Is The Mainstream Ready For LIL' KIM? - Interview

Ebony, Oct, 2000 by Kevin Chappell

SPEND some time with Lil' Kim, and it won't take long for the pint-size queen of hardcore hip-hop to suck you into her self-proclaimed "ghetto-fabulous" world. That's because as she perches her 4-foot-11-inch frame on a black leather couch in the back room of a New York City recording studio, she has the uncanny ability to make her high-maintenance, high octane, high-drama existence sound good, real good, like nirvana or something.

Listening to her describe her much-publicized life, you get the feeling that if you had twice your guts and half of her ambition, maybe you would have already been there with her, as she puts it, getting "paid just for lying in the shade taking pictures with a glass of lemonade."

In her world, she doesn't hold back and doesn't look back. She takes no prisoners, and has no regrets. She acts on her impulses, pursues her desires, says what she feels, and does what makes her feel good.

It's an equal-opportunity world, where even a runaway and high school dropout like herself can rise from a broken home and an unsavory past to have a legitimate shot at becoming a prime-time media darling and public icon.

But how legitimate is that shot? While the possibilities in her world are indeed endless, the more important question might be: Is it possible in the real world for an ofttimes maligned Black female rap star to achieve widespread success? Oh sure, Lil' Kim may be ready for the mainstream, but is the mainstream ready for her?

Over the last few months, it has become obvious that, in a fashion similar to her best friend, singer Mary J. Blige, Lil' Kim is more determined now than ever before to become a crossover superstar. She has poured all of her energy into her career, first creating a stir by being as anti-mainstream as possible, and now seeking the media spotlight whenever, and however, she can in more mainstream roles.

She has toned down her songs, started her own music company, Queen Bee Entertainment, and is pursuing other business opportunities. She has acted in one movie, one television show, and is actively seeking other roles. She also has become a sought-after runway model for some of the world's top designers. And as if that weren't enough, Atlantic Records is marketing her new album by pushing her as everything from "a pop icon, born out of hip-hop to the toast of the fashion elite" to a Catholic schoolgirl who "loves animals and has two little dogs."

It's a full-court press to introduce a kinder, gentler Lil' Kim. But is it too late for her to make that mainstream transition? Has the 25-year-old already worn out her welcome with language and skimpy dress?

Reversing course in midstream is always a risky proposition. First impressions have been formed, opinions set. And if it doesn't work out, there is no guarantee she can go home again. In fact, the one thing the hip-hop world hates most is a perceived sell-out, someone who's not true to the game. Oh, you can go mainstream, but you best not look like that's what you're trying to do.

Right now Lil' Kim is doing a masterful job juggling both worlds. But only time will tell if it will last. Her journey to this seemingly higher ground began in earnest in 1996, with her first solo album Hardcore, which sold 1.5 million copies and laid the groundwork for her raunchy reputation. And it continues today with her new album, The Notorious K.I.M., which shipped platinum this past summer and debuted at No. 4 on the Billboard charts.

But the real story is what happened in the four years between her first and second albums. Instead of fading into the background like most other artists, Lil' Kim's persona grew. She used the time between albums to flaunt her personality and her body. She got breast implants, and began wearing blond wigs and blue contacts. She appeared at parties and awards shows wearing next-to-nothing and boasting that she was "the Queen Bee" of rap.

People began to talk about her, and soon she became a sex symbol of sorts. And in the process, she became perhaps the only female rapper whose personality preceded her rhymes. She was so successful at creating such an unreachable, untouchable, over-the-top image that the haters bashed her AND tried to be like her--all at the same time. And all she could do to comfort them was to say' "If I were you, I'd hate me, too."

Lil' Kim had mastered the art of using her sexuality as the great equalizer. To some, it's reminiscent of what icons like Dorothy Dandridge, Lena Home, Marilyn Monroe and Madonna were so good at. To Kim, being a diva is much like being a rapper--it's all about claiming your spot, marking your territory and letting the whole world know that you are the best at what you do.

"I'm a trendsetter," she says, sporting low-cut designer studded jeans and a revealing white bikini top. "That's what I do. That's just me. What I'm looking to do is set a trend. That's it. You will hear a lot of female albums that have the same feel as mine, the same sound, the same look as me. I don't worry about anybody taking my style anymore, because I know what I have. I'm going to keep going and going and going, and just when they think they have caught me, I'm going to be gone again."