On Their Exhilarating New Album Pirouette, Model/Actriz Take Their Biggest Swing Yet
There's definitely a stronger directness and candor to the songs this time around; some of them, like 'Cinderella,' are even addressed to a childhood self. What was some of the new terrain you were looking to explore lyrically, Cole?
Haden: I think there was a lot of room for interpretation with the lyrics on Dogsbody, and one of my biggest fears or anxieties is being misunderstood and misinterpreted. I am proud of that writing, but I knew that I needed to, for my own sake, be more transparent about what the songs were about. It really was a direct response to Dogsbody. I think the record is basically what I learned from the first album, because those were most of the new experiences that I was getting in those two years—and a lot of those that related to the vision of what I saw for myself as a kid. I'm both speaking to me as a child, and thinking about the kind of person I am now. What would my younger self think of that person?
Where did the title Pirouette come from? It captures the energy of the record so brilliantly.
Haden: What drew me to the word was that dichotomy of being on the verge of falling out of balance, but needing an incredible amount of skill to maintain your posture, like a ballerina. There's something both delicate and athletic about it, which is our process of making things.
Having worked together as a band for so many years now, do you feel that sense of being in sync, almost like a dance ensemble? Listening to the record and seeing how you perform, it appears that way…
Shapiro: When it's working, for sure. Nothing's ever perfect, though, and we're not necessarily striving for something perfect. But I do think there's a common theme of elegant machinery or something that comes in. It sounds like a hot, dancing robot.
Jack Wetmore: I think there's a delicateness to the word pirouette that doesn't give away the athleticism and coordination behind it. And I think we've constantly been trying to bring a delicateness and beauty to heavy music, so the word pirouette feels like the thesis in a lot of ways.
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'Unlike fashion shows or magazine editorials, which often feel unattainable, television brings fashion into real-life narratives. Viewers don't just admire what their favorite characters wear; they emotionally connect with them.' People's favorite shows don't just influence the clothes people want to wear, according to Krylova; they also shape why they want to wear them. 'And that's where the real power lies — in showing viewers that fashion isn't just about trends; it's about telling your own story through the choices you make every day,' she says. And Just Like That… costume designer Danny Santiago, who also worked on the two SATC movies, noticed that a lot of younger audiences who've newly discovered the show find inspiration in its '90s and Y2K fashions. 'They want to have that sort of aesthetic to them,' he says, 'so they do seek that type of look out — the certain type of handbags and the way that the skirts are falling, and the crop tops and all that sort of stuff, layering … I see it on Instagram all the time,' he tells Yahoo Entertainment. In that sense, we could call Carrie Bradshaw our first fashion influencer. So why are self-appointed style critics on social media hating on her gonzo outfits? The simple answer is that many people hold an antiquated, narrow-minded view of how 'women of a certain age' should dress and behave. Rogers and Santiago certainly heard more than their fair share of these opinions in the lead-up to the series premiere of And Just Like That … in 2021. 'We got so many questions about, 'What are you gonna do with them? They're at a certain age,'' Rogers recalls. 'I am at that certain age … and I was like, 'I don't know why we would dress them like they'd had lobotomies.'' Santiago agrees that the idea that older women should abandon their personal styles is 'old-fashioned.' Maybe women felt this way 30 years ago, he posits — 'like they needed to become something else, in a way of maturing as who they are in their lives. But I feel that [idea] doesn't exist anymore.' But to some fans, Carrie's wardrobe has slowly crept away from its original genius. While Krylova believes that the writer's personal style evolved beautifully in the original series, subsequent appearances of the character in film and on AJLT are a different story. In those productions, she says, 'Carrie's style gradually wore itself out. It became less and less realistic and more and more theatrical, eventually turning into something completely unsupportable.' The way Krylova sees it, she and other fans began shying away because Carrie's 'fits 'had become too theatrical and out of touch with reality.' Nevertheless, she admires the way that Carrie 'continues to challenge the outdated notion that women should remain invisible, modest or reserved as they grow older.' Love them or hate them, Krylova says Carrie's new outfits have 'sparked conversations about women's freedom and the right to dress however they want at any age. And in that sense, Carrie's fashion still does exactly what it was always meant to do — provoke, break boundaries and, most importantly, remind us that self-expression has no age limit.' There might also be a third reason that Carrie's wardrobe is not playing quite as well with its target audience. In the original series, Carrie's unique fashions amplified her position as an outsider — which made her more relatable to an audience that, for the most part, would also have felt out of place among New York's high society. Now, she's as wealthy as anyone else, with the palatial Gramercy Park townhouse to prove it. Within that context, her expensive, enviable wardrobe could feel like an expression of a social standing that viewers will never achieve. In the original series, Carrie's high-low wardrobe mirrored the way she stood with one foot in each of two worlds. On one hand, her spending was the stuff of fantasy. 'It wouldn't be possible to acquire that closet — even in terrible debt — without going bankrupt,' Castaldo Lundén says. At the same time, she says Carrie's wardrobe echoes a concept that first emerged in the 1800s: Those from outside the aristocracy often adopt wardrobes that mimic that class in the hopes of joining it. Men would do so in order to do more business with old money, while women did it in order to marry rich. Just look at who Carrie married. By achieving her ultimate fantasy with Mr. Big (Chris Noth), Carrie completed her Cinderella story — the one that made viewers fall in love with her in the first place. That might have fundamentally shifted the way audiences relate to her, clothes and all. The good news? Carrie has never dressed for anyone but herself. Rogers and Santiago argue she wouldn't give anyone's wardrobe criticisms a second thought. 'If real-life Carrie was walking through the park and people were commenting on her hat like they comment on Instagram, I think she'd ignore it,' Rogers says. 'She'd ignore it,' Santiago agrees. 'Totally.'
