Sabrina Carpenter made her big breakthrough after starring in a Disney series.
She received six nominations at the 2025 American Music Awards.
Two of her songs reached number one in New Zealand.
Sabrina Carpenter is sexy. She’s also a woman. She’s a sexy woman. So far, so heteronormative. But can she be a sexual woman? The answer, apparently, is “no”.
On June 12, the 26-year-old American pop star revealed the cover of her new album, Man’s BestFriend. Carpenter is depicted on all fours, wearing a short black dress and heels, pawing at an unidentifiable man standing over her in a suit as he pulls her by the hair like a dog’s leash.
Now the internet is on fire. Her fan base of mostly women is especially mad. Their arguments can be summarised by the following comments found online:
“ ... will be having a conversation with my ... daughter about whether we can continue to support Sabrina’s music.”
“How is this not just appealing to [the] male gaze?”
“There’s a time and a place for this kind of satire and it ain’t now.”
Charli XCX and Sabrina Carpenter attend the Grammy Awards. Photo / Getty Images
It’s very on-brand for Carpenter to exude sex in her art. Her fans know this and love this. While performing her hit track Juno during the Short n’ Sweet tour last year, she went viral for the “Juno position”: it’s Carpenter asking the crowd, “Have you ever tried this one?” and then acting out an NSFW sexual position on stage. The crowd went wild. Every time.
Why are the same fans cheering about Carpenter getting freaky then howling about her getting freaky now?
Carpenter’s sex appeal is a big reason why she sells like hotcakes. Don’t take my word for it – take hers. In a new Rolling Stone interview, Carpenter says: “Those are the songs that you’ve made popular.
“Clearly you love sex," Carpenter continues. “You’re obsessed with it. It’s in my show. There’s so many more moments than the ‘Juno’ positions, but those are the ones you post every night and comment on. I can’t control that. If you come to the show, you’ll [also] hear the ballads, you’ll hear the more introspective numbers.”
Fans from day one know Carpenter often mocks incompetent men while playing both sides of the gender war in her songs. In her new track Manchild, she retains her characteristic playfulness and Betty Boop aesthetic in a fun, catchy tune, drawing attention to the men who contribute jack-all to the relationship.
It’s not the first time female artists have stirred moral panic. Oasis’s Noel Gallagher called Miley Cyrus a “god-awful woman” after she appeared naked in the Wrecking Ball music video. Beyoncé’s 2014 Time magazine cover pushed feminist scholar bell hooks to call her a “terrorist”. Christina Aguilera’s hit Dirrty and Madonna’s underwear-showing Like A Virgin performance at the MTV Video Music Awards also unhinged the masses. Don’t even get me started with Britney Spears.
The idea that Carpenter is “setting women back” decades is dumb as hell. God forbid she is sensual. The album cover isn’t a nod to domestic violence either – it’s kink. There’s consent. Carpenter’s the one calling the shots. In the world of submissive kink, reclaiming that power of choice is what makes it appealing.
Why must we insist that Carpenter isn’t in control? That she couldn’t be? Is it so revolutionary to contemplate that maybe, just maybe, she is self-aware and reclaiming these tropes to shape her own narrative?
Or – perhaps more radically – must Carpenter be trying to achieve anything for women at all?
It’s almost like we don’t want Carpenter to be grown-up. We want her to be the kid; to shut up, be pleasing and let us control her. One comment online put it this way: “It’s because the same fan base that enjoys [sexualising] her, also enjoys infantilising her the exact same time ... They enjoy viewing her as this like barely legal fantasy instead of acknowledging that the girl is in her mid, almost late 20s.”
The overwhelming criticism of the album cover speaks to women’s sexual repression. This is a case of projection. When male artists portray satire and sexualise women, no one seems to care. But when a woman sexualises herself, she is scrutinised. Why are we so afraid?
“I truly feel like I’ve never lived in a time where women have been picked apart more and scrutinised in every capacity,” Carpenter told the Rolling Stone. “I’m not just talking about me. I’m talking about every female artist that is making art right now.”
Some have argued that in a time when women’s rights are under threat, the album cover is inappropriate. The US Supreme Court’s overturning of Roe v Wade has refreshed conversations on women’s rights over their bodies in the West, and femicide is on the rise globally. In Donald Trump’s America, Carpenter appears to be concerned (when he won the election last November, her message to fans was that she’s “sorry for our country”).
What critics fail to answer, however, is when would be a good time – and if indeed there ever has been a good time for women.
I’m not saying Carpenter represents feminism. She’s probably not the deep philosopher setting out to bring about a feminist revolution through her music. Society is projecting its fragility after seeing a woman simultaneously submissive and in control. Carpenter is a grown woman, not a child; let her cook.
