The change seemed to happen in an instant. You go to bed one summer evening and wake up the next morning hearing talk of “brat summer” and things being “so Julia.” Suddenly a seemingly innocuous (yet somehow obnoxious if you’re being honest) shade of lime green (or chartreuse, if you’re being obnoxious) is everywhere, including all over U.S. Vice President and potential presidential candidate, Kamala Harris’ X account. You see 20-somethings doing something called the “Apple” dance all over TikTok and talking about “bumpin’ that.” But bumpin’ what?
The answer lies within pop sensation Charli XCX’s sixth studio album brat which, thanks to a combination of genius marketing, an uncanny understanding of the current pop zeitgeist, and a tracklist of veritable “club classics,” has become quite the sensation itself. Brat is more than the album of the summer or even a meme; it’s a way of life.
In her own words, Charli defines “brat” as “just like that girl who is a little messy and likes to party and, like, maybe says some dumb things sometimes, who like, feels herself and then also maybe has a breakdown but then like, kinda parties through it. It’s very honest. It’s very blunt, a little bit volatile.”
Brat girls, like actress Julia Fox, name-dropped in the line “I’m everywhere, I’m so Julia” from Charli’s song “360,” and internet-popular girls (Gabriette Bechtel, Emma Chamberlain, Alex Consani, among others) in the corresponding music video, demonstrate the nearly ineffable quality of the brat girl. In a lot of ways, the messy yet magnetic brat girl is the antithesis of the “clean girl” aesthetic of recent years. Yes, she’s the life of the party but she’s also just as likely to feel like she doesn’t belong at the party at all. That dichotomy between acting like you don’t care while actually caring quite a lot is part of the appeal of being brat.
The brat craze took off organically, thanks in part to how easy it is to replicate the album cover. Though a loud minority of angels (what Charli’s fans call themselves) disliked the album cover originally, the loud chartreuse (Pantone 3570-C according to Billboard) color and the simple Arial font are almost begging to be meme-d. Naturally, the green has shown up everywhere from brands like Duolingo’s to Kamala Harris’ campaign headquarters’ social media accounts. Pictures of paint swatches and trucks have been deemed Brat on the basis of being colored that signature green shade.
Like brat, brat summer is difficult to define. Part of the term comes from the brat album releasing in June and our collective tendency to coin an aesthetic for the season, like “Hot Girl Summer” and “Barbenheimer” in 2023. In an interview with The News Movement, Charli described brat summer as something that can both be “quiet luxury but also like, so trashy. Just like a pack of cigs and a Bic lighter and like, a strappy white top.” It’s an aesthetic reminiscent of the late 2000s Indie Sleaze movement, born out of sweaty nightclubs and the messy mornings the day after partying all night.
That’s not to say one has to be into partying to have a Brat summer — numerous fans of the term use it in a tongue-of-cheek manner to refer to their comparably tame summers — but you can embody that brat energy even in your day-to-day life. Brat may be somewhat of a “Femininomenon” but like the best internet trends, it’s also whatever you want to be. And that’s really brat if you ask me.