The Legs Are the Last to Go
Re-evaluations of the ageing female popstar through Vanessa Williams' 'Legs (Keep Dancing)'
Popstar, actress, dancer, producer; Vanessa Williams has done it all. On television, she is known for her roles as Wilhelmina Slater in Ugly Betty (2006–2010) and Renee Perry in Desperate Housewives (2010–2012). Her music career proves highly illustrious too, having released 8 albums across her 40 year career, earning her a whopping 11 Grammy nominations. Her most well-known hits include ‘Save the Best for Last’ (1992) which topped the Billboard Hot 100 for 5 weeks, as well as ‘Colors of the Wind’ from the animated Disney film Pocahontas (1995), with her rendition helping earn the song an Academy Award.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F04a10984-fe46-43df-8bb0-763dc270dc69_1200x1196.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F63a95a80-60a4-478e-8a52-1f91ea3f5163_1593x1574.jpeg)
However, Williams’ original rise to stardom began quite infamously. At the age of 20, Williams was crowned ‘Miss America 1984’, becoming the first African American woman to do so. However, with 7 weeks left of her reign, she was forced to resign her title over the unauthorized publication of her nude photographs in the softcore pornographic magazine Penthouse. As a black woman in the spotlight, the backlash was instantaneous. Williams began receiving death threats daily, and consequently fell into reclusion. This perverse moment came to define Williams’ early career. From the late ‘80s onwards, Williams returned to the public eye with a successful career in both the TV and music industries, yet this early scandal lingered as a reminder of the mistreatment she received back then, both from the media and public alike. Through a tenacious work ethic and her own raw talent, Williams was able to build back her reputation as a multi-faceted performer, only toughened by her hardship. As she told People back in 1989: ‘There was obviously nowhere to go but up’ (Williams in Stark & Alexander 1989).
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd27af0b1-e910-4972-8357-ee3d1695921b_640x643.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcf9653b7-454f-4a2f-8572-c119069ba1f5_769x751.jpeg)
So, when Vanessa Williams, now 61, released her latest single ‘Legs (Keep Dancing)’ on the 26th of April this year, her first pop song in 15 years, she had something to say. Just as she was disregarded 40 years ago by the press, Williams now preaches a similar testament in which she refuses to surrender or admit defeat in her career. On the talk show Sherri, Williams divulged her inspiration for the song:
‘Diahann Carroll was on Oprah, she was promoting her book, this was probably 2008, and it was called ‘The Legs Are the Last to Go’ and she was talking about beauty and ageing gracefully and that, you know, everything starts to sag but your legs still look good! You can still, like, show them off the older you get. But it’s also the strength of your legs. You’re keeping walking, you’re keeping moving forward … So I thought it was a perfect opportunity to embrace where I am and to show people: “Don’t count me out!”’ (Williams in Shepherd 2024).
As Williams asserts, ‘Legs’ and its music video are a celebratory appraisal of ageing that highlight the skill in endeavouring for continued success into the later years of one’s life. In its discussion of ageing and Williams’ own views on what it means to age as a working woman in the (often) nefarious entertainment industry, ‘Legs’ offers a fresh, nuanced understanding to current scholarly perspectives of the ageing female popstar.
Before I examine the prevailing academic work on this topic though, an acknowledgement of authorship is required. As a cisgender white man, there is no way I can fully illustrate a comprehensive understanding of Williams’ experience as an ageing, black woman in the entertainment industry. Through ‘Legs’, Williams rejoices in the opportunity to age, both publicly and privately, by honouring its course and challenging societal expectations of how a woman is allowed to age. This piece simply aims to compare the academic literature that already exists against Williams’ own version of ageing in ‘Legs’ and, perhaps, to persuade the reader to reconsider the way in which society perceives older female performers within the popular music sphere. As Elliott and Gardner contend, ‘aging has not been addressed much across popular music studies’ (2024, p. 1) and my hope is that I can offer a contemporary, intellectual approach to the subject through the study of ‘Legs’.
Much of the popular academic work conducted around the ageing female entertainer emphasises the objectification and commodification of the body specifically. As the majority of female pop music continues to be largely performed by younger women, there is a pressure and expectation that ageing female performers should appear ‘young, slim and beautiful’ (O’Brien 2012, p. 19) just as their younger counterparts do. As such, Naiman contends that ‘in pop music, perhaps more than other types of cultural production, and especially with female pop musicians, we see that the value of the product is intimately tied to the value of the body’ (2019, p. 273) and that ‘the very acts and traits that qualify an artist to be a pop star disrupt common ideas of appropriate behaviour for middle-aged women’ (p. 267). Jennings proposes that because female popstars are ‘objects of a sexualised eternal gaze, the process of publicly ageing poses particular challenges’ (2012, p. 35). These challenges suggest that sociocultural perceptions continue to distinguish the ageing woman mostly as ‘problematic, disempowering and in consequence, negatively’ (p. 36). For women of colour, these challenges are often amplified. Gardner posits that there is ‘an awe and uneasy fascination with the artefactual Black female body that has a long and complex history’ (2012, p. 65), dating back to the days of slavery and colonialism. Within sociomusicology, the ageing female star/performer is often synonymous with the ‘diva’ label, and as Scheper asserts, it is ‘important to note the way in which the term diva is sometimes attached, with negative connotations, to the body of older women, and especially to older black female stars, in a way that relegates them to the past’ (2007, p. 87). On the talk show Sherri, Williams speaks on this notion regarding how older women in the industry are often relegated to the past:
‘So ageing it seems like we’re out to pasture, and especially with [‘Legs’], we haven’t faded! Don’t count me out! We are still in it! We are still here in the game. We still have wisdom to share. We’ve got life to live!’ (Williams in Shepherd 2024).
Here, Williams structures her ideas of ageing less around the body itself and more around the intellect and mentorship she believes she still has to offer. The notion that she still has ‘wisdom to share’ and ‘life to live’ provokes the scholarly interpretations of ‘diva’ and ‘divadom’, concepts I will now examine.
The word diva stems from the Latin word ‘dīva’ meaning ‘goddess’, which in turn came from the masculine ‘dīvus’ meaning ‘divine one’. Originally referring to women as such – divine, godly – nowadays, definitions of the diva within common English vernacular vary. A widely accepted description delegates the diva label to a woman who is ‘difficult, temperamental and demanding’ (WNO, 2020). Within the entertainment industry, this definition has proliferated from what once ‘originally highlighted women of talent and success into an unflattering and disparaging description with its roots in sexism’ (ibid.). Bradshaw’s proposed timeline of the diva reveals this harmful narrative associated with the ageing woman, from prosperity to calamity:
‘Divadom has a relatively straightforward narrative trajectory, one that allows few deviations: underdog with big talent and/or hunger for fame overcomes hardships of impoverished beginnings to make it big; along the way makes choice to sacrifice normative womanhood for artistic and/or commercial success; with stardom comes the crisis of maintaining stardom; star inevitably dims, either through tragedy or aging; diva dies alone’ (Bradshaw 2008, 71).
While a quick Google search pairing the terms ‘Vanessa Williams’ with ‘diva’ leads nowhere, I theorize that Williams has actively depicted various hallmarks of the diva throughout her professional career in a more nuanced way than as defined above. While she may not be considered a diva within or for her musical work per se, there are numerous instances of divadom across her screen and stage repertoire, playing a variety of ‘authoritative and authorizing’ women (Farmer 2007, p. 146). Take, for example, Wilhelmina Slater from Ugly Betty: the character is described on Wikipedia as ‘a conceited, self-absorbed diva’. Similarly, Williams’ character from Desperate Housewives, Renee Perry, is described as ‘a trouble-making vixen’ and ‘a spoiled rich woman, appearing vain and insensitive’.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F04918bcd-d48f-43d6-b2c0-cba1f8c3eb02_736x707.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F74f163c4-f148-40e8-9a9c-be8ddfa89610_1745x1725.jpeg)
In 666 Park Avenue (2012–2013), Williams starred as Olivia Doran, the ‘coldly beautiful and sophisticated’ wife of a billionaire. In The Good Wife (2015), Williams played a recurring role as Courtney Paige, ‘a self made business-woman’ and ‘one of the most powerful CEOs in America’. In Hannah Montana: The Movie (2009), she played the titular character’s business-focused publicist, Vita. Williams even starred in a show literally called Daytime Divas (2017), playing the manipulative and bossy Maxine Robinson who rules over a popular daytime talk show as its officious host. Similarly, she starred in the holiday film A Diva’s Christmas Carol (2000) as Ebony Scrooge, playing ‘one of the world’s most popular singers’ with a ‘cold-hearted soul and nasty attitude’, perhaps mirroring her own perceived reality.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe87ed937-159c-45d7-81f1-afc17015cb50_680x695.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fdd61a926-c70d-4e7f-b6b8-8b3d81511053_731x720.jpeg)
She was a judge on RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars on the ‘Divas Lip Sync Live’ episode (2018). Currently, she plays ‘high powered music manager’ Nance Trace in Girls5eva (2021–present) and will star as none other than editor-in-chief Miranda Priestly, one of the most renowned divas in film history, in the musical adaptation of the The Devil Wears Prada (2006) debuting on the West End later this year.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc426a2c1-0023-47d7-b661-937764aa02b9_998x960.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa5b4d9a2-f25f-4cb4-8abf-5368c6a04697_576x541.jpeg)
While Williams has indeed played a vast array of characters across her screen and stage career, there is an evident through-line to many of these performances: powerful, arrogant, strong-willed, smug, and provocative women. These diva-adjacent performances suggest Williams’ penchant for such roles, and thus warrant this considered analysis.
Bradshaw hypothesizes that ‘the diva marks a cultural inability to imagine real and lasting female achievement’ (2008, p. 72). The diva is identified here as less of a significant postfeminist cultural icon and as more of a tragic tale of failure and artifice. Here, the diva ‘marks a cultural reluctance to imagine such achievement’ (ibid.), essentially implying that the diva label itself disrupts the potential fruitful evolution of a successful female star into her later years. This rings true for Williams; while she has maintained a prosperous career into her 60s, she is seemingly (and speculatively) caught in a cycle of accepting and playing the same diva-like roles quite consistently over the last 20 years or so. As Bradshaw emphasises, ‘the tragedy of the diva is not that she falls apart at the height of her career … but that she can only fall apart at the height of her career … because we cannot, will not, imagine a viable alternative ending to her story’ (2008, p. 71). While Williams’ career is yet to fall apart, there seems, thus far, no alternate ending to her story other than playing these comparable characters either; the diva, it seems, lives to serve.
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0858ccd2-c2e4-41f9-ab37-81acc4172645_540x563.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F48669ada-4fcf-484a-a6b6-7dc0780de3cb_411x402.jpeg)
However, other scholars deem the diva label as a more positive facet of a star’s persona. Weidhase and Jennings theorise that ‘the diva trope has been identified as a potentially successful performance strategy for the ageing female pop star, in which a skilled execution of this trope can capture the nostalgia of an earlier career and simultaneously accommodate and incorporate the signs of ageing in spectacular and performative ways’ (Weidhase 2015, p. 99; Jennings 2012). They suggest that implementing the diva trope as an ageing female star can often garner beneficial results, strengthening the star’s legacy. Over the last two decades, Williams hasn’t just relied on these diva-esque roles but utilised them to preserve her career and maintain continued success past (what societal standards consider) her prime. In her interview on Sherri, host Sherri Shepherd alludes to Williams’ proclivity for these roles in reference to the ‘very strong characters’ she often plays, name-dropping Wilhelmina Slater (Ugly Betty), Renee Perry (Renee Perry) and Ebony Scrooge (A Diva’s Christmas Carol). Williams responds jokingly: ‘I think it’s typecast at this point’, but as the evidence suggests, beneath her wit lies rather fascinating implications. Clearly, Williams herself is very aware of her reputation in taking on these roles, but instead of attempting a late-stage career evolution, Williams appears to entirely embrace this (often limiting) diva status in her later life, positively reinforcing the label. As Williams said on the Jennifer Hudson Show in response to how she interprets ageing: ‘it’s a privilege’ (Williams in Hudson 2023). As such, Williams’ acceptance of this typecasting supports Lister’s argument in that the cultural practise of ‘divafication’ amongst popular music audiences and media alike – in which a star is deemed a diva – seems to have ‘removed the derogatory connotation of the term “diva”, thereby helping to dismiss another negative feminine stereotype’ (2001, p. 8). While this instance of a reappraisal of the diva status proves hopeful, one must remain wary of the discursive label and the damaging synonymity between ‘diva’ and ‘ageing’. Just as Farmer contends, ‘the (post)feminist era may be decades advanced but, let’s face it, the woman who dares to lay public claim to expressive entitlement has lost little of her capacity to ruffle sociopolitical feathers’ (2007, p. 146). An insinuation persists that the diva will remain provocative or controversial, yet in a hegemonic masculine society, these traits are rarely admired.
‘Legs’ epitomises the conjuncture between Williams’ apparent divadom and other inferences of perseverance within the entertainment industry as an ageing woman. As such, Williams acts as the provocateur in ‘Legs’, embracing any possible controversy she deliberately, or inadvertently, constructs. The ‘Legs’ music video is a joyful account of diligent ageing, celebrating movement, the body, and Williams’ enduring career. The video, directed by Mike Ruiz, follows a fairly traditional and homogenised understanding of the pop video: they are ‘generally glossy productions stylised to titillate the viewer, anesthetising what we see and what we desire’ and they ‘also provide entertaining sociocultural commentaries on trends and aesthetic preferences at any particular point in time’ (Hawkins 2013, p. 467). While fairly simple at its core, the ‘Legs’ video highlights Williams’ considered interpretation of what it means to age in the public eye.
The video commences with a slow pan-up of Williams, revealing her fishnet-clad legs, chino shorts, and fitted turtleneck. With all eyes on Williams, she begins: ‘Still here / still standing / still kicking in fact / I’m the best I’ve ever been!’. Here, she rejects the notion that her career is over, promising the viewer that she is back and better than ever.
Williams stands against a white backdrop as she tells her story; her legs are the main attraction. Various dancers of all ages, ethnicities and gender identities surround her, seemingly eager to listen to what their diva has to say. ‘So, say what you say / expect me to fade? / I don’t think about it!’ she sings with a smirk on her face. Williams is utterly comfortable in her ageing body, performing choreographed moves with the same skill and dexterity as the younger dancers around her. Williams continues: ‘I’ve got work left to do / and I’m not close to through / not while I’ve still got these legs!’. Through humorous wit and reference (her 1992 single ‘Work To Do’), Williams makes sure that her audience doesn’t count her out. Another shot reveals Williams in a new outfit: red trousers, a sheer black top, and a metallic harness-like corset. Her torso is on show, exposing her stomach, decolletage, shoulders and arms. Evidently, Williams does not honour the ‘fashion norms in which older women are instructed to cover any potentially “flabby” appendages’ (Baade 2019, p. 292).
She struts around the set like a supermodel, parading to her audience what she’s got and what she still has to offer. Naiman posits that for middle-aged women, ‘there is the expectation that they will keep their sexuality confined to private spaces’ (2019, p. 267). Instead, Williams utilises her sexuality as a tool to demonstrate her defiance in ageing by exposing her toned physique. The song erupts into the chorus: ‘They say the legs are the last to go / imma keep dancing / I’m still putting on the show / imma keep dancing’. Through repetition, Williams ensures her audience that she will persist no matter what. The show must go on, and Williams displays no hesitance in proving as much. If the legs are indeed the last to go, Williams promises that she will be dancing ‘until [she] can’t do it no more’.
In the next verse, Williams continues to ignore any detractors: ‘My time is managed doing much better things than tryna prove myself to you’. This line seems to hark back to Williams’ days as Miss America when she was renounced and exiled from the entertainment industry. She realised it then, and continues to believe now, that there is no use in vying for the wrong eyes. Rather, Williams chooses to live her life the way she wants to, and to age in the way she is most comfortable with. Through sarcasm, Williams details her process: ‘So here’s what I do / I step in these shoes / and then I use these legs of mine!’. I argue that she possibly even refers to the expectations of divadom when declaring; ‘If I gotta sing, you’re gonna find me dancing too’. Williams’ star persona will not be contained by the boundaries of societal standards. She will engage in whichever facets of her career she wants to, when she wants to, and with whom she likes.
As such, Williams has rapport with her fellow dancers, giggling and bantering with them while flaunting moves back and forth. This manipulates her diva status: she is the mentor and idol, but also the friend and confidant. Her role as a permanent judge on the singing competition show Queen of the Universe (2021-2023) supports this idea, that she is now, later in life, an expert in her field. Furthermore, this dual role she takes on in the ‘Legs’ music video is referenced by Watson and Railton, in their analysis of female performers’ late-stage career renewal: ‘For those who engage in a career switch it is important to instil a distance between the youthful singer and the mature expert in a different field’ (Watson & Railton 2012, p. 140). Williams portrays both: the boss and the coworker, the star and rookie. In an extended cut of the video, this notion is further solidified when Williams counsels a group of dance auditionees who can’t seem to nail down the choreography: ‘Let me show these children how it’s done’. But she isn’t just the teacher, as soon after she joins in with the group and their antics, becoming a peer again. Williams won’t be boxed in, and she ensures her audience is aware of this fact.
Watson and Railton believe that maintaining pop music success later in life is ‘less about self re-invention in the present than a re-creation and re-presentation of an earlier self culled from the past’ (2012, p. 140). Williams achieves this on ‘Legs’, utilising her various acting roles as the diva within popular media and restructuring them to amalgamate into a new and indispensable aspect of her professional career; the ageing popstar. She actively defies ‘the norms of gendered ageing [that] dictate a re-positioning of [her] image in line with the expectations associated with women’s process through the life course’ (p. 141).
However, while Williams rejects the expectation that the female performer ages modestly, she also defies the natural processes of ageing in ‘Legs’. On Sherri, Williams spoke of her health and wellness practises:
‘I do it all … I lift weights, but I also kickbox which I love … It gets all that energy out of you when you’re punching that bag … We talked about menopause before. I do bioidentical cream, so I’m on progesterone, testosterone, oestrogen, so keep those in balance, because you know — you got to! I do microcurrent and nanocurrent … which basically tightens [the skin]’ (Williams in Shepherd 2024).
Here, Williams exposes aspects of her extensive workout regime and skincare routine. When detailing the list of hormones she takes/applies, she exclaims that ‘you got to!’, suggesting that to age gracefully, one must alter their body’s chemistry through intervention. This also insinuates that one must have access to progesterone, testosterone and oestrogen creams and supplements which are often not very affordable or available. Similarly, the specific ‘microcurrent and nanocurrent’ product she speaks of (the ‘ZIIP HALO’ device) retails at $675. This presents an almost unattainable version of ageing, a charade only available to some. As such, I theorize that what Williams actually means here is that this regime is something that she has got to do as an ageing pop performer. She is employing her star status here, detailing the methods involved with continuing commercial career success into a female performer’s post-menopausal years. Williams states that she has ‘go to’ participate in this process of age defiance, and the pop ideology proves this fact as it always ‘seeks to imprison women in the strictures of youth’ (Watson & Railton 2012, p. 151). It is also important to note Williams’ comment on menopause here as the cultural narrative of ‘women’s short lives as public performers … locate[s] the true calling of mature women in domesticity and motherhood’ (Baade 2019, p. 286). Not only does Williams use clever lyricism and nimble movement to defy the expectations of ageing in ‘Legs’, she also alters her actual biology through clinical and cosmetic procedure. Williams is attempting a youthful illusion here, reverting to a previous age, pre-menopause, wherein she could operate and function in the pop industry just as her female peers would. This precedence on the importance of youth is a long-held principle within pop music, and Williams’ successful masquerade of such within ‘Legs’ ‘demonstrates that the physical status quo remains an intrinsic part of a pop star’s appeal’ (Whiteley 2003, p. 194).
There is a stark similarity here between both Williams’ and Madonna’s approach to ageing. O’Brien contends that Madonna’s status as a sculpted, fit, mature popstar reinforces the cultural notion that ‘the female body at the heart of the pop mainstream is one that has to be controlled. Ageing and its effects need to be defied’ (2012, p. 19), or if not defied, ‘hidden away’ (p. 27). Williams employs the former method here, just as Madonna does, resisting the natural development of the ageing body. Just as Williams maintains a rigorous wellness regime, Madonna too had her own intense process when gearing up for the release of her 2005 album Confessions on a Dance Floor, at the age of 47:
‘Every day she did an hour of Olympic level Ashtanga yoga, an hour of Pilates and an hour of aerobic exercise. She took business calls on her StairMaster, and ate a finely-tuned macrobiotic diet, allowing herself one glass of wine with Sunday lunch’ (O’Brien 2012, p. 27).
Both Williams and Madonna repudiate their age through athletic, clinical, and cosmetic intervention, all while revelling in their own (ageing) stature within the entertainment industry. They reject the idea that women must obey the standard model of ageing femininity, rather choosing to rebuke the cynical understanding that older women must stay modest and maternal. What they achieve is the ‘re-authoring [of] gendered scripts of ageing in a way that presents a challenge to discourses of attractive older femininity’ (Watson & Railton 2012, p. 151).
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F7a942eb4-d5ff-477a-8a1d-de2915fee789_788x730.jpeg)
![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_720,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ffe03e7da-b0da-4cda-95fe-baacd5994c70_746x769.png)
This reauthoring of ageing femininity lies at the root of what ‘Legs’ seeks to contribute to the ongoing dialogue around the ageing female star. Williams’ body remains on display throughout the ‘Legs’ video as a reminder of her defiance of both the societal expectations of ageing women, and of the natural ageing process. Williams problematises the very notion of ageing through her candid attitude both challenging and embracing the process. She commends herself and other older working women, all while proudly resisting ageing’s biological course. While Williams’ doesn’t necessarily depend entirely on the ‘preservation of an image of the youthful performer’ (Watson & Railton 2012, p. 140), she does indeed ‘rely on the redaction of the initial image of youth by overwriting it with contemporary images that record later successes’ (ibid.). This is where her many roles as the ‘diva’ on screen and stage help amplify and legitimise her return to pop music. Williams isn’t relying on her musical persona from the 90s, but rather utilising her acting work over the last 20 years to delineate a fresh, reinvigorated star identity both connected and disassociated from her past.
‘Legs’ is a tour de force in its analysis of ageing in the public eye as a female performer. Williams complicates the ageing process through her subordinative behaviour within the music video, exploring an ageing femininity that doesn’t rely on modesty and restraint. I contend that Williams portrays an entangled depiction of ageing; an entanglement of positions and insights that generate a refreshing depiction of older femininity and sexuality often absent from the popular music scene. While that ‘for women in pop music, ageing is the last taboo’ (O’Brien 2012, p. 31), Williams prefers to chase this taboo, reconfiguring it to her liking. She answers to no one on ‘Legs’, and offers no explanation or reasoning for her innovative approach to ageing.
Rather, she finds ‘there’s only one thing left to say … Watch these legs!’.
BIBLIOGRAPHY –
Baade, C. (2019). ‘Vera Lynn 100: Retirement, Aging, and Legacy for a “National Treasure”’. in S Fast & C Jennex (eds.) Popular Music and the Politics of Hope: Queer and Feminist Interventions, pp. 283-97. Abingdon: Routledge.
Bradshaw, M. (2008). ‘Devouring the Diva: Martyrdom as Feminist Backlash in The Rose’. Camera Obscura 67, 23/1, pp. 69-87, Duke University Press.
Elliott, R. & Gardner, A. (2024). ‘Aging, Time, and Popular Music Special Issue Editorial’. IASPM Journal 14/1, pp. 1-4.
Farmer, B. (2007). ‘Julie Andrews Made Me Gay’. Camera Obscura 65, 22/2, pp. 144-153, Duke University Press.
Gardner, A. (2012). ‘Framing Grace: Shock and Awe at the Ageless Black Body’. in R Jennings & A Gardner (eds.) ‘Rock On’: Women, Ageing and Popular Music, pp. 65-83. Surrey: Ashgate Publishing.
Hawkins, S (2013). ‘Aesthetics and Hyperembodiment in Pop Videos: Rihanna’s “Umbrella”’. in J Richardson, C Gorbman & C Vernallis (eds.) The Oxford Handbook of New Audiovisual Aesthetics, pp. 466-482. New York: Oxford University Press.
Hudson, J. (2023). ‘Vanessa Williams Says ‘It’s a Privilege’ to Get Older’. Jennifer Hudson Show, online at:
(accessed 12 June 2024).
Jennings, R. (2012). ‘It’s All Just a Little Bit of History Repeating: Pop Stars, Audiences, Performance and Ageing – Exploring the Performance Strategies of Shirley Bassey and Petula Clark’. in R Jennings & A Gardner (eds.) ‘Rock On’: Women, Ageing and Popular Music, pp. 35-51. Surrey: Ashgate Publishing.
Naiman, T. (2019). ‘Resisting the Politics of Ageing: Madonna and the Value of Female Labor in Popular Music’. in S Fast & C Jennex (eds.) Popular Music and the Politics of Hope: Queer and Feminist Interventions, pp. 267-81. Abingdon: Routledge.
O’Brien, L. (2012). ‘Madonna: Like a Crone’. in R Jennings & A Gardner (eds.) ‘Rock On’: Women, Ageing and Popular Music, pp. 19-33. Surrey: Ashgate Publishing.
Scheper, J. (2007). ‘“Of la Baker, I Am a Disciple”: The Diva Politics of Reception’. Camera Obscura 65, 22/2, pp. 73-101, Duke University Press.
Stark, J. & Alexander, M. (1989). ‘Ex-Miss America Vanessa Williams Overcomes Her Disgrace by Showing and Singing the Right Stuff’. People, online at <https://people.com/archive/ex-miss-america-vanessa-williams-overcomes-her-disgrace-by-showing-and-singing-the-right-stuff-vol-31-no-4/> (accessed 12 June 2024).
Shepherd, S. (2024). ‘Vanessa Williams Shows Out with "Legs" | Sherri Shepherd’. Sherri, online at:
(accessed 12 June 2024).
Watson, P. & Railton, D. (2012). ‘Rebel without a Pause: The Continuity of Controversy in Madonna’s Contemporary Music Videos’. in R Jennings & A Gardner (eds.) ‘Rock On’: Women, Ageing and Popular Music, pp. 139-54. Surrey: Ashgate Publishing.
Weidhase, N. (2015). ‘Ageing Grace/Fully: Grace Jones and the Queering of the Diva Myth’. in D Jermyn & S Holmes (eds.) Women, Celebrity and Cultures of Ageing, pp. 97-111, Palgrave Macmillan.
Welsh National Opera (WNO) 2020, Diva: criticism or compliment?, online at <https://wno.org.uk/news/diva-criticism-or-compliment> (accessed 20 June 2024).
Whitley, S. (2003). Too Much Too Young: Popular Music, Age and Gender. Abingdon and New York: Routledge.
Williams, V. (2024). Legs (Keep Dancing) [music video], dir. Mike Ruiz. Mellian Music, Warner Music Group Corp, online at:
(accessed 27 June 2024).