Dear Future Husband
Ah, 1950s suburbia. Green grass, pink flamingos, perfect pastel houses with perfect pastel husbands and really cool shrubbery. Those were the days — a simpler time of domestic bliss and brushed-under-the-spotless-kitchen-table misogyny.
Add a little bit of leather and some surprisingly feminist undertones to the traditional ’50s aesthetic and, hey, you’ve got yourself a hot new music video from Megan Trainor, queen of bass.
Bubblegum doo-wop accompanies an explosion of colors when you hit play on “Dear Future Husband” — it’s exciting, visually enticing and just really freaking cute. Trainor “tests out” a variety of studly fellas throughout the three and a half minutes. “Hey future husband,” she inquires in her day dress, can you cook a meal that covers more than an inch of the plate? The first suitor fails miserably, bringing her a bleak, lone scallop and one green bean. That doesn’t contribute to the well-being of bass. Out with him.
She won’t settle, and in that light, the video’s kitschy, retro persona becomes sugarcoated satire. Gender roles are challenged — ideas of ’50s “womanhood,” lusciously lampooned. Outfit changes (Trainor and her cat-eyed eyeliner look better than ever) and blue skies continue as she sings, “You got that 9 to 5, but, baby, so do I, so don’t be thinking I’ll be home and baking apple pies.” Cue: an apple pie engulfed in Hades’s flames.
Got that, future husband? Respect and equality is all it takes. Oh, and a box of pizza — the gent carrying a greasy Italian pie wins out in the end. It’s not delivery; it’s feminism.