"I've always been drawn to a bit of glamour and the theatrical side of things"

An attraction to glamour and the theatrical signals a belief that heightened presentation can carry truths that plain realism sometimes cannot. Glamour isn’t merely sparkle; it’s a visual language of intention , lighting, silhouette, choreography, an economy of gesture that tells a story before a lyric is sung. The theatrical impulse embraces character, staging, and narrative arcs, inviting an audience into a world where emotions are saturated and time is measured in cues. Rather than masking reality, it reframes it, giving heartbreak a spotlight, desire a costume change, and irony a wink. It is an ethics of attention: if feelings matter, they deserve production value.

For a pop artist, this orientation becomes both palette and armor. Glamour offers control over the gaze, turning vulnerability into poise; theatricality supplies structure, allowing risk to be choreographed rather than chaotic. The lineage is rich, cabaret, disco, New Romanticism, and camp, traditions that treat exaggeration as a pathway to sincerity. In that context, polish is not deception but craft, the disciplined labor that makes joy legible at scale. The stage persona is not a lie; it is a tool, a lens that concentrates feeling until it glows. Authenticity, then, is fidelity to one’s sensibility, even when that sensibility prefers glitter to grit.

There is also an invitation to play. Audiences enter the collusion knowingly, suspending disbelief to share in a ritual of make-believe that reveals connections. Dancefloors, videos, and concert halls become temporary utopias where understatement gives way to color, symmetry, and styled emotion. Theatrical glamour punctures everyday monotony, but it also critiques it, reminding us that life is edited by the choices we make about light and angle. What some call artifice can be a humane technology: a way to hold pain elegantly, to celebrate without apology, and to transform private feeling into communal sparkle.