Miley Without the Mouse

Miley Cyrus decided the best way to leave Hannah Montana behind was to show up completely naked in a magazine shoot. Terry Richardson photographed her for Candy, no softening, no art direction to hide behind—she’s just there without her clothes on, in scenarios that make it clear she doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks. A cop uniform, leather, on her knees. Completely unbothered.

What I find myself thinking about is how earnest it all is, weirdly. There’s no winking at the camera, no ’look at me being dangerous’ performance. It reads like someone who’s decided her body is hers to use however she wants and doesn’t need anyone’s permission or approval. The people who watched her grow up on Disney will have whatever reaction they’re going to have. I get why she’s done it—she’s erasing that image completely, replacing it with something that can’t be softened or made family-friendly.

The pictures are crude and direct. Maybe that’s all there is to it. She’s stated her position: she’s not the girl you thought she was. You can look if you want, or don’t. The magazine exists, the images exist, and she’s moved on to the next thing. But there’s something I respect in the absolute lack of apology or performance around it all.