Sabrina Carpenter released her seventh studio album, Man’s Best Friend, on 29th August, igniting a vibrantly controversial debate across pop culture.
Prior to its release, Carpenter dropped her bold, statement-making album cover depicting the artist herself on all fours with her hair being grabbed by an unknown male figure. Though intending it to be a playful image of a man toying with her hair, the visual quickly sparked questions of the role of the male gaze and if perhaps she had taken it too far.
So, which is it? A clever commentary on how society polices and constructs femininity, or a project which feeds right into the centre of the male gaze itself?
Carpenter told CBS News that the target audience for this project was not for “any pearl clutchers,” implying that she defends and welcomes her use of brazen sexuality. It’s clear from her previous work and ongoing tours that she is not afraid of her use of sexual imagery and exclaims that those offended “need to get out more.”
These statements, coupled with the album cover, perhaps point to a wider conversation within the music industry and beyond. The flurry of debates points to some darker undertones within modern feminist discourse. By romanticising hyper-feminine sexuality, does Carpenter herself play a role in reconstructing the walls of the male gaze?
Many fans disagree and defend the artist, claiming that freedom for women is the freedom to choose. Defending herself to CBS, Carpenter explains the cover is about “being in on the control” but also the “lack” of it. In some ways, she manages to explore the duality of womanhood. We have the power to choose, yet still find ourselves in positions of submission.
But are these ideas clear from the cover? Does the male gaze care if she is trying to be clever? Carpenter’s choices do not exist in a vacuum; instead, her imagery and messaging are public and pervasive. With much of her audience being made up of young women, the question arises: do any satirical intentions fail to be understood when confronted with the stark image of a woman being walked like a dog?
Perhaps Carpenter’s use of provocation is somewhat different. Yes, it is indeed inherently sexual, and she is not trying to hide away from that. But as described by Zane Lowe, Carpenter is a naturally provocative artist. She is not trying something new, but maybe something different. She is drumming up a new kind of conversation, a conversation which insists that there are no boundaries anymore. Her previous album, Short and Sweet, exhibits many similar themes; however, it is much more subdued than Man’s Best Friend.
The new album rejects subtlety entirely and instead is an unapologetic, raw extraction of Carpenter herself. To Lowe, she describes the writing as being “straight out of a diary” or as if it is from a “conversation with two girls.” She has produced a piece which eliminates the boundaries between her and her fans; it is for them and only them.
So perhaps it is not a carefully crafted piece of subversive feminism, but also not a setback for modern womanhood. Like all art, it cannot be boiled down to just two things. Despite its explicit nature, at its core, the album is left slightly ambiguous. Who are these men? Are they one man, or are they showcasing all men? She wants us to have questions, she wants us to react, to laugh, to blush, to scream. It is a wonderfully ridiculous snapshot of the many questions she may have in her own life. So, she is throwing it all up in the air and telling us: ‘here you go this is where I am, take it or leave it’.
And for that we can only sit back and applaud.
“Sabrina Carpenter – O2 Arena 2025 – 007 (cropped)” by Raph_PH is licensed under CC BY 2.0.