She fakes it so much, she's actually beyond real at this point. In that context, Kyary is way too cute, way too weird. While she emerged in an era when Lady Gaga and Katy Perry were wrapping Coke cans in their hair and shooting whipped cream out of their bras, today the flashy, bubbly American pop star has been replaced with a more down-to-earth creature. The pleasures of Kyary's music and persona are simpler. You're either criticized for being an inauthentic bobblehead by pop skeptics, or lauded as a genius by people who take Top 40 far too seriously. Kyary presents a reliably fun alternative to the modern Western pop-industrial complex, where artists’ every move is endlessly analyzed for signs of growth or failure. But I see a futuristic global pop fantasy: a freaky, tutu-wearing chameleon, a young woman who isn't oversexualized for the masses, a sugary pop machine who never plays her pop idol–dom too straight. So whether you think Kyary Pamyu Pamyu's fame is the sign of a coming apocalypse or a godsend is up to you.
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