Meghan Trainor is the human to blame for that ear worm “All About That Bass”, which taught us the-already-established fact that men like asses. Yeah, Meghan, everyone likes asses. You should follow it up with a song about how women like abs and call it “All About That Bari-toned”, you hack. I’m sure it would be an instant hit, because people will consume any mass-produced garbage marketed under the guise of female empowerment even if the message it boils down to is shallow and sexist.
Trainor has yet to come up with another musical-pun/body-part hit, but her most recent song does ante up on the stupid. “Dear Future Husband” is her newest hit, where Trainor tells her hypothetical future husband how things are going to go down after he puts a ring on it. Some people are upset about the song and video for its old fashioned sexism. Trainor sings about buying her man groceries, and needing her man to buy her flowers and a ring. The video has her scrubbing a floor like a good little homemaker. As much as this makes me roll my eyes back enough to see my repressed memories, I don’t really have a problem with her playing “1950s housewife”.
My problem is that she’s made a new “anthem” telling girls to be utter dick-heads. If you look at these lyrics, Trainor is just saying “Dear future husband, you need to do everything I say and maybe I’ll let you see my boobs”. Just check out some of these lyrics:
After every fight
And maybe then I’ll let you try and rock my body right
Even if I was wrong
You know I’m never wrong
Why, why disagree?
You have to pretend you’re wrong and apologize to me, because if you don’t I will punish you by not having sex with you. I don’t have to ever say I’m wrong. If you play by these crazy rules I made up, I will let you try to bang me.
If you wanna get that special lovin’
Tell me I’m beautiful each and every night
You have to tell me that I’m beautiful every single night, because if you forget or expect me to be a grown woman with enough confidence to last a day without physical validation I still won’t bang you. There is no indication that I ever have to compliment you. That’s too much to ask.
You gotta know how to treat me like a lady
Even when I’m acting crazy
Tell me everything’s alright
I can act a total psycho, but you have to tell me it’s cool because you aren’t allowed to do anything but spoil me. Pander to my insane demands, or else no banging.
Along with lines like And know we’ll never see your family more than mine, you can get the gist that Trainor would make a terrible wife/girl-friend/person. This kind of girlfriend entitlement is not that rare. You’ll see it with posts about training your man, which instruct you to punish them with abstinence or reward them with sex. You can see it in all the wedding shows where a Bridezilla gets tyrannically drunk with power and the fiance has to take it. Or what about those precious Pinterest quotes about men having to deal with whatever bullshit you throw on them if he wants to be considered a “good boyfriend”?
The idea is: I get to do whatever I want, but you don’t. Your free will is only an illusion. That is the message of this song. Trainor isn’t horrible for scrubbing the floor of her Pleasantville fantasy-home – she’s horrible because she’s romanticizing a relationship of sexual manipulation and emotional abuse. And if you think this song is ideal or even cute, guess what? You’re an asshole.