Honestly, the internet basically melted down when Billie Eilish stepped out in a tank top. You remember the photo. It was 2020, middle of the pandemic, and she was just walking around LA in a beige camisole and shorts. For anyone else, it’s a Tuesday. For Billie, it was a "scandal."
People were so used to her wearing neon green beanies and Louis Vuitton sets three sizes too big that seeing her actual silhouette felt like a glitch in the matrix. But here's the thing: the conversation about Billie Eilish without baggy clothes has always been more about our own weird hangouts with women's bodies than it is about her fashion.
She wasn't trying to make a statement by going to the store. She was just living. Yet, that one photo launched a thousand think pieces and, unfortunately, a lot of gross body shaming from people who really should've known better.
Why she wore the baggy clothes in the first place
It wasn’t just a "vibe." Billie has been super open about why she buried herself in oversized Gucci and streetwear for years. In that 2019 Calvin Klein ad, she straight-up said it: "I never want the world to know everything about me."
By wearing clothes that hid her shape, she took the power away from the paparazzi and the trolls. If they couldn't see her body, they couldn't have an opinion on it. Or so she thought.
Actually, it turned into a double-edged sword. While she was trying to avoid sexualization, some people started using her style to shame other girls. She’s mentioned how even her parents' friends would praise her for "dressing like a boy" so she didn't look like a "slut." Billie hated that. She wasn't trying to be the "modest" poster child; she was just trying to feel safe in her own skin while her career was exploding.
That 2021 British Vogue moment
If the tank top photo was a ripple, the June 2021 British Vogue cover was a tsunami.
Platinum blonde hair. Custom Gucci corsets. Lingerie. It was a complete 180.
The record-breaking post—reaching a million likes in under six minutes—showed a version of Billie that was "traditionally" feminine and pin-up inspired. Some fans felt betrayed. They thought she’d "given in" to the industry. But if you actually read the interview, she was the one driving the bus. She told the magazine, "It's all about what makes you feel good."
She was nineteen. People forget how much you change between fifteen and nineteen. You're basically a different human being every six months. She wanted to explore a different side of herself, and honestly, why shouldn't she?
The hypocrisy of the "Role Model" label
One of the weirdest things about the shift away from the signature Billie Eilish without baggy clothes look is how people reacted to her "losing her values."
As if wearing a corset suddenly made her music worse?
Billie called this out perfectly in the Vogue piece, saying, "Don't make me not a role model because you're turned on by me." It’s such a sharp point. We put these young women on pedestals for being "different," and the second they show a bit of skin or embrace their womanhood, we act like they sold out.
The reality is that she spent years struggling with her body. She’s talked about how she hated her reflection and how she’d sometimes starve herself or take "weight loss" pills as a kid that just made her sick. The baggy clothes were a shield for a very real, very painful insecurity. Stepping out of them wasn't a marketing ploy—it was a sign of healing.
"Lost Cause" and the internet's obsession
Then came the "Lost Cause" music video. You've seen it—the slumber party, the dancing, the Skims loungewear.
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Suddenly, the "baggy clothes" era felt officially over, and the internet did what it does best: it got weirdly aggressive. There were accusations of "queerbaiting" and claims she was suddenly "too sexual."
It’s like she can’t win.
- If she wears baggy clothes, she’s "hiding" or "not a real woman."
- If she wears fitted clothes, she’s "selling out" or "showing too much."
She addressed this head-on during her Where Do We Go? tour with that powerful short film Not My Responsibility. In it, she slowly removes her clothes while a voiceover asks, "Is my value based only on your perception? Or is your opinion of me not my responsibility?"
The Met Gala pivot
Look at her 2021 Met Gala look. That peach Oscar de la Renta gown was massive. It was "Old Hollywood," it was elegant, and it was definitely not a hoodie.
But even there, she was in control. She only agreed to wear the dress if the brand stopped using fur entirely. She used her "body-conscious" moment to force a major fashion house into a more ethical stance. That’s the real Billie. Whether she’s in a XXXL jersey or a corset, the core person hasn't changed.
What we can actually learn from this
If we're being real, the obsession with what Billie wears is a mirror of how we treat women in general. We want them to be accessible but not "too much." We want them to be role models but stay in the boxes we built for them.
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So, what’s the takeaway here?
- Autonomy is the point. Billie isn't "choosing" a side between baggy or tight. She’s choosing herself. Some days she wants to look like a skater kid, and some days she wants to look like a siren. Both are valid.
- Growth is messy. You aren't the same person you were at fifteen. Expecting a global superstar to stay frozen in her "Ocean Eyes" era is just unrealistic.
- The "Male Gaze" is exhausting. Much of the criticism of her style shift comes from a place of wanting to control how she is perceived. Rejecting that control is her most "punk" move yet.
Instead of scrolling through more photos of Billie Eilish without baggy clothes trying to find a "gotcha" moment, maybe we should just let her be. She’s a generational talent who has had to navigate puberty under a microscope.
The next time you see a celebrity change their "brand," ask yourself if they're actually changing, or if they're just growing up. Usually, it's the latter. And honestly? Good for her.
If you want to support artists like Billie, focus on the craft. Listen to the evolution of the production on Hit Me Hard and Soft. Watch the way she directs her own videos. The clothes are just the wrapping paper; the art is what actually matters. Stop worrying about the silhouette and start listening to the lyrics. That's where the real story is anyway.