Why Emma Chamberlain is the Chosen One

Foray 004: Article

May 05, 2024

Try to find a corner of popular media that Emma Chamberlain doesn’t intersect with. I dare you.

There’s the Met Gala, the Vogue Interviews, the meme of her and Jack Harlow. There’s the recent ‘receding gum reveal’ TikToks, her interviewing Tim Ferris on depression and sipping espresso martinis with Kendall Jenner in their newest brand collaboration.

Between sitting front row at Louis Vuitton and staring you down from billboards as the face of Cartier, it’s getting hard to escape her. Not that you’d want to.

These are all relatively recent examples, in the last few years or so. Simply the ashes of her blazing presence in the entertainment industry, a Gen-Z snake charmer. She’s transcended past the YouTuber echelon into full-on celebrity status, yet by and large she’s still the darling of her fanbase.

Frankly, very few of her peers can make the same claim. To age with your fanbase, to keep them close as you all pass through life, is a feat few creators or artists can attain. How has she managed to stay catnip for all of us twenty-something girls who’ve been watching her since we were in high school?

The para-social power is strong with this one, simply because she lets her real self be seen. The difficulty, vulnerability and power of that simple act can not be overstated. In a hyperreal world saturated with images of images of women instead of the flesh and blood, to be real is to immediately be resonated with.

When we see her, no makeup, top bun proudly donned like a helmet for battle, discussing the quagmire of tricky questions around what to do next, we see our friends. Ourselves. The part of our lives which has impacted us the most but has no visual representation among the starlets of society.

There’s been so much talk of girlhood lately. Between bows, Barbie and coquette-ification, it feels like we can’t move without stumbling on yet another cutesy aspect of our communal childhood brought back to life. The pink and pretty aspects which we were taught to shun as we grew up, we now reclaim.

And that’s beautiful, but that’s only half the story.

Anyone who’s been through girlhood knows it’s so much more than that. Girlhood is gross, messy, surreal, plain, tiring and so deeply ‘unfeminine’. I don’t say these things as insults or judgements. It’s unpalatable and proudly so. It’s the glue of girlhood; all of the best, most bonding and informative experiences fall within these categories.

Yet because of the unseemliness of these very experiences, they’re fundamentally resistant to marketing, pretty packaging and quick exportation. Making them untouchable by the mass media except for a select few who dare to delve into the girl mess.

Emma Chamberlain is one of them. The poster child of real girlhood.

Sitting alone, sipping an ice coffee, staring at the wall, skin pale, top bun up, expression blank. There is so much happening here.

That’s why when she’s interviewing celebrities for Vogue or wearing a diamond necklace from Cartier that weighs more than my arm, we cheer her on. It’s almost like seeing someone from the same little town you’re from make it to the big leagues. She’s from girl town and we love her all the more for it.

This isn’t to say there hasn’t been rough patches. She went on a YouTube hiatus, has done a couple of creative 360s and rebranded herself completely multiple times. There’d be backlash, we’d miss it for a bit but then we’d see what she’s up to, the new projects she’s started and think ‘wow, I actually connect with this more’.

She’s had the wherewithal and guts to do what so many artists and creators rightfully fear, allowing herself to change despite the frantic desire to cling onto what made her famous in the first place. And in the process has evolved alongside us, her audience, as we move into our twenties and beyond.

That’s why Emma Chamberlain is the chosen one. Her inner strength defies the flimsy superficiality of any algorithm, any onslaught of likes or trends. Together, we’re in on the joke of growing up, of being a girl, of being gross. When we feel like the world is hostile to our real person, she gives us the gift of giving it the middle finger. And God bless her for it.