18 minute read

THE SAWEET LIFE

Saweetie, 26, was photographed for The Red Bulletin outside of Red Bull North America’s HQ in Santa Monica on July 7.

After a summer of viral hits, the breakout rapper Saweetie opens up about fame, identity, love, her new album, Pretty Bitch Music—and the work ethic that turned her desire for success into reality.

Words LAKIN STARLING Photography G L ASKEW II

As a Bay Area native, Saweetie embraces the region’s culture, style and “hyphy,” or upbeat spirit.

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elieve it or not, Saweetie has always been the underdog. It’s not immediately evident by her beauty, raving fan pages, pristine jewels and her ability to smash the internet with rap hits. But proving others wrong with her quiet charm, laser focus and work ethic has always fueled her ability to beat the odds.

For many artists like Saweetie, whose virality creates a pipeline to stardom, one may assume that their track to success was swift and without hard work. It wasn’t so easy in Saweetie’s case. Before the glitz of her “icy” career, she was an undergraduate student at USC with big rap dreams. When she wasn’t in class— or working one of her three jobs—the go-getter was uploading Instagram videos of herself rapping in her Jeep.

Gradually, she built a buzz on social media, and in 2017 she dropped the video for “Icy Girl.” Sporting long platinum tresses, a fur coat and expensivelooking satins, she embodied the attitude and luxury that she would ultimately manifest into her current reality. The viral video catapulted her into the spotlight, and she hasn’t looked back since.

Born Diamonté Quiava Valentin Harper, the 26-year-old Northern California native grew up across enclaves of the Bay Area. As the daughter of young parents who were often busy with work, Saweetie moved around a lot and was mostly raised by her maternal and paternal grandmothers. The frequent relocations often made her the new kid at school, which forced her to gain confidence and learn to adjust quickly.

Although her classmates picked on her as an outsider and underestimated her abilities because of her looks, Saweetie tuned them out by excelling at sports like volleyball, skateboarding and track and field.

Now, as a rapper, Saweetie is breaking records with nonstop bops like “My Type” and “Tap In.” Her songs capture the Bay Area’s hyphy, upbeat spirit and encourage listeners to have the maximum amount of fun and selfconfidence. Her message is not about having a specific look, but more about expressing a bossed-up energy that grants fans permission to shower themselves with love, good times and, of course, beautiful things. Saweetie admits that she’s learned a lot about her artistry since her earlier EPs and guarantees that her evolution is apparent in her debut fulllength album, Pretty Bitch Music, which releases this fall. It’s a more textured project, with a ranging production that lets her audience discover more of her layers as a woman.

With 7 million followers on Instagram, Saweetie has mastered the art of giving fans a taste of her extraordinary life—like when she’s trying out her brandnew skateboard.

the red bulletin: You’ve brought a lot of fun to Instagram and social media while we’ve all been stuck inside. What’s that experience in quarantine been like for you?

saweetie: I always tell people if I wasn’t an artist, I probably would post like once a year. Why? I don’t know. Social media used to give me a lot of anxiety, especially when I first popped off, because it was so many people with things to say, and it just gave so many people access to me so quickly. It made me kind of become a recluse from social media, but then I realized that social media is an imaginary world. Good and bad things happen there. Once I was able to develop my mental toughness and learn how to steer through social media, it became fun for me, and that’s when I started selectively showing my personality.

You also show a lot of family and loved ones on social. How does their energy impact who you are?

They bring out the best of me. If I’m working, it’s not that I’m not comfortable, but no one else can bring out my personality like my family. I can just be myself.

Which family members have been the most influential in your life?

My grandmother, because I lived on and off with her throughout my childhood. A lot of people don’t know that, but my grandmothers really raised me, and I feel like they did a really great job. I had really young parents who were always out working, so definitely my grandmothers, on my Filipino/Chinese side and then on my Black side.

They come from different cultures, but they had the same in the work ethic. They were always working. They were always getting their hair done. They always smelled good. They always kept their house clean. As a little girl, that was normal for me. When people say things like, “What inspires you to be a boss? Like, what makes you wanna empower women?”—these are things that were just regular for me growing up, like women in my family, all different types, shapes, sizes, even attitudes, right? You know how that goes. [Laughs.] But no matter what, no matter what the circumstances, it was always love and support. So for me, that just comes naturally.

Where exactly did you grow up in the Bay?

I grew up all around the Bay, primarily in Hayward. One of my grandmothers lived in the city and the other one lived in Sunnyvale. I lived in San Jose as well, but I used to move around as a little kid because my parents were so young, so everybody used to babysit me.

But it just made me develop a tough skin, bouncing around from schools. It made me an adapter, because if you’re constantly changing new environments as a little kid, you never really become comfortable. You learn how to make the best of your situation. I really resented my childhood because I don’t feel like I grew up as a regular kid, but I felt like it prepared me to be in this business. I’m persevering no matter what the circumstances and dealing with different types of people, problems. It made me a really strong young woman.

What about the Bay Area culture and style has influenced you as a person and an artist?

A lot of people are surprised that I’m able to do my own glam. I can do my own hair and makeup, but in the Bay Area, everybody wants to look good but be unique, too. I’ve always been colorful; I’ve always been dying my hair. I’ve always been trying to make myself look good. It inspired me to want to be fly. I love the Bay Area because it’s like home of the pretty girls with bomb-ass attitudes. We’re so down to earth, we know how to party, but we still like to

“I love the Bay Area because it’s like home of the pretty girls with bomb-ass attitudes. We’re so down to earth.”

look good and handle our business. That’s what made me who I am on the day-to-day and who I am as an artist. A lot of creativity and uniqueness comes from that.

Some people have tried to discredit your credibility to wear classic Bay Area styles like long nails, bamboo earrings and baby hairs. In your defense, some fans pulled up your childhood photos. Talk to me about how it’s always been a part of you.

Because I went to college and I can speak properly, people feel like they can question my “authenticity.” But who says a girl like me can’t go to college? Who says a girl like me can’t wear long nails because I got an education? There are all these false theories and stories about me because my success makes people feel a way. But when I think about it, I’m like, “Damn, I’ve always been this girl.”

But what really stripped me, as a woman of color, was college. When I went to San Diego State—and especially USC—it’s predominantly Caucasian, and I felt like I couldn’t be myself. College made me feel like I couldn’t be who I truly was because I had to conform. It took me about a year or two to feel comfortable with raising my hand and participating in class because I came into college talking so much slang.

I go to these classes and they’re using all these big words, and I’m like, “What’s going on?” I didn’t have the confidence to be vocal because these other kids just had a different type of education preparation. It made me feel like I had to change. So that’s why I love spending time with my family and getting back to my roots. [College] made me robotic because I felt like I had to be what society expected a student at a prestigious university to be like.

You also played sports, right? When did you start?

Girl, I came out of the womb playing sports. [Laughs.] On my grandmother’s side, it’s like all boys, so all the girls are pretty much tomboys because we’re always kickin’ it with the boys. I used to race in the streets with no shoes on. [Laughs.] We used to race all day and play football. I would try to mimic the older kids. Tetherball, kickball and baseball—whatever was around for us to play, we did, or we made up our own game.

My dad used to tell me I smell like “the great outdoors.” [Laughs.] I would come in with mud all over my jeans. Tree branches stuck in my hair because I was climbing trees—just super dirty, so I was always in the streets as a little kid.

I played a lot of basketball. All the girls in my family played—my cousins, my aunties—but it just wasn’t my cup of tea. I couldn’t hang, going up and down that court, so my mom forced me to try out for the volleyball team, and I hated her for it. But I immediately fell in love and started playing volleyball around sixth grade. Whenever school had Powder Puff, I would always play quarterback. I have an arm. And in high school I ran track.

In terms of success or hard work, how did sports impact the way you read or operate in the world? Any long-lasting impact?

I honestly feel—not to get super sentimental—like, this is purpose. This is God’s plan for me because I went through so much shit growing up. I also had to deal with fighting in the athletic world because I was a transfer student all the time. I was always the new girl and people weren’t so welcoming.

I remember when I tried out [for volleyball], it was very uncomfortable. None of the girls liked me, and they said all I wanted to do was play sports so I could show off my ass, and other weird rumors. It was almost bullying, but like, mentally. People were trying to count me out. I had to fight to prove that I’m

“People like to question my ‘authenticity.’ But who says a girl like me can’t go to college? Damn, I’ve always been this girl.”

“I came out of the womb playing sports,” Saweetie says. Although she played basketball, she fell in love with —and excelled at— volleyball as a teen.

“You have to be headstrong, believe in yourself and be comfortable with making your own mistakes.”

athletic. I told one of the girls on varsity, “I’m gonna take your spot,” and I did. I always had that competitive edge to me. It made my determination, my ambition and my ability to persevere. It made me mentally tough, and in this industry, you have to be mentally tough.

At what age did you know that you wanted to be a rapper?

Definitely when I was a sophomore in high school, because these boys are rapping in class. I was like, “OK, y’all cool, but I’m gonna go home and write my own rap.” So I came back and when I spit my shit in Algebra 2 the whole class went crazy, so I thought, “Wow, maybe I could do something like this.”

In college you started rapping from your car on Instagram. Were you like, “Let me try this out and see what happens,” or were you actively trying to make it big?

It was like, “I can’t afford the studio.” As a new artist, it’s sometimes very difficult when you’re not blessed with a great engineer. When you are inexperienced and a new artist, you sometimes don’t know when you’re dealing with a weak engineer because you’ve never done it before. I had a rough start because [my first] engineer just outright sucked. I was like, “I’m tired of wasting my money, and I’m gonna just record online because everybody knows I wanna rap so I’m just gonna start posting it.” That’s why I was using all of these classic beats, because I didn’t have any connections to any beatmakers.

A lot of new artists struggle to get their songs on the radio and the charts, but “Icy” went viral, “My Type” was a hit, and “Tap In” keeps getting bigger and bigger. What’s your formula?

You know what, girl? I have no secret formula. When I meet upcoming girls, whether it’s Tay Money or Mulatto, because I did hop on their songs, I try to share as much as I can, because I feel like I made a lot of mistakes early in my career because I had no guidance.

I loved sharing what it took me to get to this point. You have to be headstrong, you have to believe in yourself, and you have to be comfortable with making your own mistakes. I can’t sleep at night when I do something that someone told me to do. I didn’t even believe in it, but I didn’t have the courage to make my own decision. And then I have to take it to the chin because I took so many other people’s advice.

Work hard, develop a great team and make sure that they’re the right team. Just because you have a team doesn’t mean that they know what they’re doing. Get the right mentors. You should always have someone to go to who can be insightful, who can play devil’s advocate.

I do my own treatments. I pick my beats. I co-produce a lot of stuff. There’s a common denominator between great workers and artists, and nothing that I’m doing is new. Anytime someone asks me something, I’m always excited to share, because if I could save someone the time that wasn’t saved for me, I’d like to do that.

Women in rap have been making the most interesting music lately, but there’s a sentiment that there isn’t enough space for them to exist equally and be successful. What do you say to that?

The numbers prove that that’s a lie. [An identifier] that I would love to just be removed from the conversation is “for a girl” or “for a female rapper.” Like, we’re just rappers, and our fanbases, our charts and our numbers all prove that we’re equals. I used to hate the comment— especially at USC—“Oh, you’re pretty for a Black girl.” No, just say I’m pretty. I feel like it’s a backhanded compliment and although “for a female rapper” isn’t as in your face, you’re still telling me that female rappers aren’t doing their part. But we are. And we have to do that, plus more, because we have to get our weaves done, we have to do our lashes, our nails. You know that shit takes five to six hours a day. That’s a lot. And lots of money. My overhead is somebody’s tuition per month, so quit playing with us because we really go hard.

Some people have an unfair tendency to underestimate or simplify a woman who looks really good, but you’ve embraced your beauty. Has that ever made you feel like you’ve had to prove more or go harder?

Pretty privilege has been associated with my brand, but if anything, it’s been a hindrance. When people see a “pretty girl,” they associate her with being mean, with getting her way all the time—but my lifestyle was the exact opposite of that. So I didn’t want to shy away from it. I’m a bad bitch, so I’m going to be proud of it and give that power to my fans.

And a lot of people—especially men—are upset by women rapping about their bodies. You have lyrics, like in “Pretty Bitch Freestyle,” where you definitely are celebrating your sexuality.

I can attest to a moment like that. I remember when I did the song with Kid Ink and Lil Wayne, “Yuso,” and I was so proud of this moment. I was like, I’m gonna hop on that nasty song because I got some shit to talk. And I always tell myself if I’m gonna be nasty, I’m going to be like Missy. I love Missy and Missy’s nasty, but she’s gonna make you laugh with it. I worked really hard so that my bars were creative, fun and in my opinion, tasteful. When “Yuso” dropped, I got negative responses like, “Oh, she’s the college girl,” or “She’s classy, she can’t be talking like that. Wow, she just ruined her brand and her career.”

“I have an arm,” Saweetie says. And indeed, she does. Here she’s captured right before she lobs a bomb across an empty parking lot.

Saweetie admits she likes the “finer things,” but she’s also a tomboy. “I’m not just some robotic pretty girl. I’m a human,” she says.

Yes, I went to school, but when I see my man, I’m gonna get freaky. I just call them “confused fans,” because your mama nasty, your grandma nasty, your great grandma’s nasty, too. When you make people uncomfortable, the easiest thing they can do—without really being a critical thinker—is go to their first thought. So that’s where the tweets and the hate came from. Celebrate whoever you are as a woman because people say, “Oh, she’s too conservative. Oh, she’s too nasty. Oh, she’s too this. Oh, she’s too that.” You’ve gotta block those people out and just do you the best way you can.

You’ve recently opened up about your relationship with your boyfriend, Quavo. What’s it like to navigate being two very real humans and young people in love who are also both public figures?

It’s difficult, but I feel like it’s very grown-up. I feel like this is my first relationship where we’re very mature about a lot of things. I think it’s important, especially in Black love. I feel like communication is really important because—I don’t wanna generalize what it is—but for a while, I struggled with expression, because as a kid I was taught to just suck it up and move on. But you can’t do that in love. It’s not healthy; it builds resentment.

Healthy Black love was important to us and we know that we wanna be together and stick together. We both just learned from past mistakes of our own and we’re working together to be healthy. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about being healthy. It requires both people to participate; otherwise it’ll fail.

Talk to me about the album Pretty Bitch Music. That title is an acronym, right?

It took me so long to start saying “bitch” in my rap. If I’m going to use this word so my listeners can have that much more relatability to me, I’m gonna let them know what “bitch” stands for. So that’s why I broke it down: BITCH means Boss, Independent, Tough, CEO, and I’m from the Bay, so the H means Hyphy. When I sift through my fans’ comments, they say that I make them feel pretty, I make them feel confident, I make them feel like they should go out and get their bag, so it’s like I make “pretty bitch music.” I have all these layers and all these moods that can be shown in my project.

How would you describe the layers that you peel back in this album?

As a woman, I do like the finer things in life, but I’m also a tomboy. I’m also a family woman. I also can get my feelings hurt. I do have emotions. I’m not just some robotic pretty girl. I’m a human and through these songs—whether they’re sentimental, personal, uplifting or fun— you’ll be able to get that because the project is over 15 songs. I’m really excited. I’m finally figuring out what my artistry is.

And the sound? You’ve said this is not what people may expect from you.

I didn’t have the right guidance at first. The people around me kept trying to go to the big hitmakers, and no one could really understand me as a person because I’m complex. But with this new project and working with people who truly know me as a person, I’m finally able to have everything interconnect. I’ve been hearing, “When people listen to this, they’re gonna be able to meet you before meeting you.”

Are you opening up more and showing other sides of yourself?

I’d say I’m learning how to. At first, I didn’t know how to have my personality come over a beat, which was super hard when it wasn’t a beat of my own. I’m learning how to take a song into my own hands and execute it the way Saweetie would do it.

“Healthy Black love is not about being perfect; it’s about being healthy. It requires both people to participate.”

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