Then there’s “P-ssy Palace.” Not subtle. A full-on, middle-finger-to-the-world, giddy anthem about female solidarity, pleasure, and power. The song you blast when you’re ready to reclaim your life, and maybe even your dignity. Allen’s unapologetic attitude is contagious; you feel taller, braver, more “I do what I want” in your bones. And yes, it’s the song that will haunt David, echoing in the minds of people around the world as they hum its addictive melody.
And let’s not pretend Lily is alone. Adele’s heartbreak diaries, Taylor Swift’s meticulously plotted revenge arcs, Charli XCX’s sardonic pop rage - they’re all doing this. Women are taking their pain, frustration, and indignation, and turning it into art. We don’t blame them. We cheer. We cry. We plot.
Personally, I’ve been on that journey too - learning to speak up, realising it’s okay to feel anger and disappointment, understanding that silence isn’t the only option. Listening to women like Allen reminds me our feelings are valid, and calling out mistreatment isn’t just acceptable - it’s powerful.
This album is a strange mix of guilty pleasure and empowerment. You laugh at Allen’s wit, wince at her honesty, and secretly cheer because it feels like she’s speaking for all of us. For anyone ever told to “stay calm,” “don’t make a fuss,” or “just let it go,” this album is a shockwave: call it, call them, call it out.
Yes, she’ll be criticised. She’ll be called “over the top,” “dramatic,” “too much.” Good. Let them. Watching her navigate heartbreak and infidelity with humour and bite? A little revolutionary.
And now? I can’t stop listening. Lily Allen isn’t just making music - she’s reminding us all that silence is optional. Power is ours. And sometimes, revenge is a dish served piping hot… with a number-one hit on the side.
