Once upon a time, there was “Hot Girl Summer” – a 2019 trend that became shorthand for women feeling bold and confident. It started as playful and self-assured, but like many “empowerment” trends before it, became quickly marketable, full of brand deals and poses engineered to look carefree, read: toxic positivity. When that market got too saturated, “Clean Girl Aesthetic” arrived: dewy skin, gut health, minimalist, polished, perfect.
Older waves of feminism gave us hashtags, hustle culture, and insincere solidarity. #Girlboss. #WomenSupportingWomen. But if your empowerment depends on being palatable,—or stepping over other women to get to the top, I have one question. What are you really building?
In summer 2024, Charli XCX dropped brat, an album unleashing a digital tantrum of visceral, unhinged honesty. Lyrics that, like many of us, were collapsing, dissociating, and unraveling in real time.
Brat is another form of rebellion against being too much. Brat chews with her mouth open. She’s confrontational. And deeply vulnerable. Contradiction is the point.
So what does opting out actually look like here in Bali, where aesthetic is everything… but so is authenticity.
In Bali, brat energy shows up in the cracks between curated aesthetics. On Finn’s feed, you’ll see the slick bun and green juice girl, but you’ll also see the one cannonballing into the pool with last night’s mascara still on. At the café in Pererenan, where the quote on the wall insists to“come as you are,” I’m greasy-haired with writer’s block while the next table workshopped a brand deck on “effortless authenticity.” And at ecstatic dance, while unsettlingly photogenic healers circle you with sage, I am outside inhaling a questionable pastry from the temple stall. The clean version of me would’ve been there, next to the healer performing transcendence. The brat version chose connection over choreography, carbs over chakras, and survived another night.
None of this is about dragging the Clean Girl down. There is no right way to ‘be’ a woman, and heck, most women are simply trying to survive the lens of patriarchy. The problem starts when there is only one way to exist, one filter, one body that counts. Brat says, “Yes, and.” mirror to the machine and a hand to the girl beside you.
If there is anything that I have learnt while being in Bali, is that you can’t do this alone. If you’ve cried in public in a foreign country, you know the woman who notices. She doesn’t tell you to fix your face. She waves you over, pulls up a chair, feeds you off her plate, and listens while you unravel. Two weeks into Ubud, I found mine. They werethe loudest girls in the corner of Donna, cackling like they invented joy. I sent over a drink, they adopted me in four seconds flat, and we’ve been screaming together ever since. It’s scary to put yourself out there, but take the chance because most women have been where you are.
In Bali, there are several ways for your inner brat to exist. Take note:
Grab the 2-for-1 pizzas and oversized Sangria pitcher from Milk & Madu on Wednesdays/Sundays, and head to Berawa beach at midnight under a full moon. Wear your bitchiest sunglasses, curse your ex’s hairline, and be the witches who were burned at the stake in the 1600s. Be delusional, unbearable, and alive.
Feel like dinner with friends, but on a budget? Meet Girl Dinner: chaotic, simple pleasures in excess. Fill one glass with cheese puffs, another with a milkshake to dip your family-sized fries into. Pro girl dinner tip: order delivery off the kids’ menu using Gojek (no one can verify if you’re over the age of 11) and undo the top button of your jeans under the table so you can indulge. No matter what wellness trend you’ve committed to, enjoy the spontaneous cravings that may not be acceptable, but neither are we.
You may be nodding yourself into burnout because people here will tell you ‘everything happens for a reason’ until you start believing every opportunity is fate. My take? Say no more often, especially when your body says no first. Each “no” chips away at the architecture that expects your yes.
Still spiritually confused? Go to a drag show – Inklusive Warung does karaoke after. Lose your voice and bring your sassiest self.
Brat Summer might be over, but the chaos isn’t. This one’s for the girls who seem to be drawn to honest mess over curated mindfulness. If that’s you, girl, I see you, and I’m saving you a seat.
