Wet Leg's Rhian Teasdale on Fame, Fits and Rock Stars
“If you don’t love it, then there’s really no point.”
There are few things more synonymous with Rhian Teasdale than her pepto-bis pink hair, tiny outfits and, of course, her arms. The Wet Leg frontwoman has made a habit of flexing her biceps on stage while singing lyrics that veer from deadpan to downright dirty. It’s become part of a distinctly Teasdale kind of rock-star image, unconcerned with taking herself too seriously. Off stage, though, she’s far less intimidating.
Arriving in ripped jeans and a black Praying hoodie emblazoned with “Rotisserie Chicken,” Teasdale gives little away at first. A flash of her signature bubblegum hair peeks out from beneath the hood, while her soft-spoken delivery is almost the inverse of her stage presence. She asks for questions to be repeated, occasionally second-guesses an answer and takes her time before deciding what she actually wants to say. It’s a fitting contradiction for someone whose stage persona balances power poses with a shameless grin and confronting lyrics.
Since the band’s breakout single “Chaise Longue” landed in 2021, Teasdale has become one of indie rock’s most recognizable frontwomen. The song’s now-iconic lyrics, “Mummy, daddy, look at me / I went to school and I got a degree / All my friends call it ‘the big D,’” introduced the band with a distinctly unserious sense of humor, while Teasdale’s performance style gave the music an unmistakable edge.
Founded by Teasdale and guitarist Hester Chambers, the band now also includes Josh Mobaraki, Ellis Durand and Henry Holmes. They’ve gone from indie newcomers to Grammy and BRIT winners, picking up a devoted fanbase (and the inevitable internet discourse along the way), being called everything from “man-repelling” to an “industry plant.” But Teasdale seems largely uninterested in the noise. Instead, she’s developed her own version of rock-star.
“It’s sometimes unbelievably hot when you’re on stage, so incorporating hot pants and bikini tops into my regular rotation has actually been purely very practical,” she explains of her provocative outfits. “I also think it’s good to have a little bit of a uniform because it’s a strange thing being up in front of so many people. There might be days where getting dressed for the stage just takes up too much energy and headspace.” The logic is refreshingly straightforward. “Also, you can actually fit so many different bikini tops and short shorts into a really small space, so again it’s very practical.”
Teasdale’s relationship with fashion predates the rock star uniform, although she’s reluctant to call herself particularly fashion-obsessed. “When I was 15 or 16, I wouldn’t say I was into fashion, but you know the big Topshop on Oxford Street, that was like the greatest place on the earth at that point!” she laughs, in a distinct nod to her British upbringing.
It’s this combination of practicality and irreverence that makes Teasdale’s latest fashion project feel particularly natural. For a new capsule with Berlin-based label Namilia, the singer brought her own ideas to the table, namely, “I wanted thumb holes and a hood.” The resulting collection feels less like an exercise in celebrity branding and more like an extension of the wardrobe she’s already built for herself. Namilia, meanwhile, has built its reputation on pushing femininity into more provocative territory, making the collaboration a fitting meeting point for two worlds that aren’t particularly interested in behaving themselves.
Wet Leg’s music has evolved considerably since “Chaise Longue.” Their second album, Moisturiser, is softer and more romantic than its predecessor, filled with gooey love songs and moments of genuine vulnerability, but of course, alongside a good dose of dirty lyrics. Teasdale’s songwriting process, however, remains as instinctive as ever.
“The words kind of come when I’m thinking of a melody. I’ll sing out gibberish, gobbledegook and vowel sounds and then sometimes the sounds will start to sound like a sentence or word. That was how “Angelica” began; the syllables and the words just fit. It’s like a little puzzle.” Beyond that, she’s particularly attached to the demo version of “don’t speak,” which appears on the Deluxe edition of Moisturiser, released earlier this summer. “I actually kind of regret putting that on the Deluxe,” she confessed. “I think we shouldn’t have touched it and that should’ve gone on the album as is, because it’s such a perfect song in such an honest recording.”
The Deluxe also sees Wet Leg handing their songs over to artists including The Dare, horsegiirL and Fontaines DC DJs for a series of remixes. For Teasdale, there’s something exciting about losing control of a song you’ve lived with for so long. “It’s great to see someone really cool rip it up and start again.”
When asked how these collaborations came about, outside of running in the same circles, HorsegiirL was a case of simply asking. “I’m such a big fan, I just DM’d her and she said yes. She came back a few weeks later with the finished track; that was so cool.”
That openness to other people’s interpretations seems to extend beyond music. Teasdale has never appeared particularly interested in fitting into a prescribed version of what a rock star should look like, and she has an equally loose definition of what makes someone a rock star in the first place.
“Zara Larsson is a true rock star, she’s so cool, and Charli XCX. People might say they’re pop girlies, but actually you can be both. You can be a pop girl and a rock star.” For Teasdale, the title has little to do with leather pants or a certain kind of attitude; it’s something more intangible, a presence, rather than a uniform.
Perhaps that’s also why the band’s transition from indie newcomers to Grammy and BRIT winners hasn’t dramatically changed how she approaches making music. “I think because the five of us in the band have known each other for so long, it’s just easier to separate yourself from all of the noise.” The awards, she says, shouldn’t become part of the creative equation. “If anything, when that sort of stuff is happening, and you’re trying to make something, it’s best to just look the other way, because I don’t think it’s helpful.” And despite the obvious satisfaction of being recognized, for Teasdale, “The whole awards thing is such a big song-and-dance, and I don’t know if it’s necessarily for the artists.” Ultimately, “It’s a completely separate part of being in a band from the actual creative process.”
It’s an attitude that feels distinctly Teasdale and actually pretty rock and roll, this slight irreverence and disinterest in taking things too seriously. When asked what advice she would give her younger self, she keeps it simple. “What’s the rush?” Then, with characteristic bluntness, she adds: “Yeah, quit. If you don’t love it, then there’s really no point. If you’re having fun when you’re making the music, other people are more likely to have fun listening to it.”
It’s perhaps the simplest explanation for Wet Leg’s appeal. The band has never seemed particularly concerned with what it’s supposed to be doing, and Teasdale certainly isn’t interested in playing the part of a conventional star. Now, that same energy is being channelled into Namilia, with the capsule collection and accompanying Berlin pop-up offering a physical extension of her world. For a woman who’s built an entire persona around playful lyrics, tiny clothes and very big biceps, it feels like the perfect next move.
You can find the pop-up exhibition at KaDeWe in Berlin from September 15 to 29, and shop the collection via Namilia’s website.
