The way she croons “all eyes on auss” reminds me of playing dress-up as a kid, wearing my dad’s XL white T-shirt as Cinderella’s wedding dress. It’s reaching for a half-understood idea of sophistication, a dalliance with a different self. But it’s also unapologetically goofy, her equivalent of a Dollar Store fake beard and sunglasses. It’s clear that it’s an act—we never lose sight of the American Britney underneath. I like that, because having an utterly convincing foreign accent has often left me a bit confused about where I belong.

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