Alright. Listen up.
Grab a coffee. Sit down. Shut up.
I’m about to articulate the silent scream building in the chest of every sane person on the planet. The scream you’ve been suppressing every time you open your phone and see another multi-millionaire, multi-award-winning, “icon” debase themselves for a scrap of attention.
The trigger this time? Rihanna.
Another one has fallen. Or, more accurately, has willingly jumped into the sewer.
The news outlets, the “culture commentators,” the simpering fan pages are all buzzing with the same manufactured excitement. “Rihanna stuns!” “She’s breaking the internet!” “A fashion moment!”
No.
Let me translate their pathetic, weak, matrix-speak into the truth.
Rihanna has joined the indecent nipple display trend.
She’s out there, in some “artistic” day out, a new mom trying so so hard to prove she’s still so hot , and the main event, the talking point, the calculated “shock” is the outline of a nipple. Again.
And you’re supposed to clap. You’re supposed to call it “powerful.” You’re supposed to think this is the pinnacle of female empowerment.
You are being lied to. You are being played. And I am sick of it. We should all be sick of it.
Let’s break this down with the cold, hard logic the world is so desperately missing.
This Isn’t Power. It’s Poverty.
What is the single most valuable commodity in the modern world? It’s not money. Money is a consequence. It’s attention.
And what do you do when your actual talent—your music, in Rihanna’s case—is no longer the main source of that attention? When the well of genuine artistic innovation has run dry? When you’re more focused on building a Fenty lingerie empire than a musical legacy?
You resort to the lowest common denominator. The most primal, basic, biological trick in the book.
You flash some skin. Specifically, you hint at a nipple.
Think about the absolute poverty of this. You have one of the most famous faces on the planet. A voice that defined a generation. Billions of dollars. An entire business empire. And the best idea you, or your team of overpaid “creative directors,” can come up with to stay relevant is to make sure people can see the shape of your areola through fabric?
How is that powerful? How is that innovative? How is that anything other than pathetic?
A powerful woman commands a room with her intellect, her presence, her competence. She doesn’t have to rely on the pre-programmed, lizard-brain reaction of a man seeing a secondary sexual characteristic. That’s not power. That’s using a biological cheat code because you have nothing else of substance to offer in that moment.
It’s the cultural equivalent of hitting the “easy” button. It requires zero talent. Zero creativity. It’s the last resort of the artistically bankrupt.
The Con of “Empowerment”
They’ve sold you a brilliant, toxic lie. They’ve told you that parading your body, that reducing yourself to your most basic physical components, is “owning your sexuality.” It’s “reclaiming your body.” It’s “sticking it to the patriarchy.”
Wake up.
Who is the “patriarchy” you’re sticking it to? The male executives at the fashion house who designed the dress specifically to reveal the nipple? The male photographers who are getting the perfect, high-resolution shot? The male editors at the magazine who greenlit the concept because they know it will generate clicks?
You think you’re rebelling? You’re following their business plan to the letter. You are the compliant product in their commercial transaction. You are doing exactly what they want you to do.
True empowerment would be to show up and be celebrated for your mind, for your strategy, for your business acumen. Rihanna has that. She’s a billionaire mogul! But instead of leaning into that power—the power of the boardroom, the power of the deal—she reverts to the power of the bedroom. She degrades her own immense achievement by reminding everyone that at the end of the day, her primary value in the public sphere is still, fundamentally, sexual.
It’s a con. And you’re the mark if you believe it.
The Matrix is Making You Weak
This trend is a symptom of a diseased culture. A culture that has forgotten honor, dignity, and mystique.
What is more valuable? Something that is readily available for everyone to see, or something that is rare, protected, and cherished?
The matrix wants everything to be cheap. It wants to strip all value from everything. It wants to turn every sacred thing into a public commodity. Love, relationships, the human body—all of it must be monetized, displayed, and made common.
By constantly revealing what was once considered private, you aren’t “liberating” anything. You are devaluing it. You are making it ordinary. You are robbing it of its specialness.
There is a reason the most captivating, intriguing people in history have an air of mystery. You can’t put a price on that. But you can put a price on a paparazzi shot of a nipple. And it’s a pretty low one.
This trend is toxic because it teaches young women that their quickest path to validation is through indecency. That to be seen, you must be uncovered. That to be heard, you must be half-naked.
It’s a lie. It’s a trap.
I’m not a prude. This isn’t about religion. This is about strategy. This is about respect.
Demand more for yourselves. Demand more from your “icons.”
Rihanna is better than this. Or at least, she used to be. She has conquered the music world and the business world. She is a mother now, for God’s sake. And yet, the narrative is still “look at her nipple.”
What a tragic, pathetic downgrade from the narrative of “look at her empire.”
This is the final sign of a decaying society. When its greatest heroes have no more heroic acts to perform, so they perform the most basic biological ones instead and call it revolution.
It’s not a revolution. It’s a surrender. It’s the surrender of the mind to the body. The surrender of substance to spectacle. The surrender of a queen who would rather be a court jester because the laugh is immediate and the crowd is easy.
I reject it. You should too.
Stop clapping. Start asking why.
Top Slaylebrity out.
Instagram: @badgalriri
Followers: 148.7 Million
Another one has fallen. Or, more accurately, has willingly jumped into the sewer. The news outlets, the culture commentators, the simpering fan pages are all buzzing with the same manufactured excitement. Rihanna stuns! She's breaking the internet! A fashion moment! No.
