by Nadia Simmons
Being a part of Gen-Z, I spend the majority of my screen time scrolling through TikTok. If you aren’t familiar with the social media platform let me explain it to you-after I’m done looking at you suspiciously because you’re lying, of course. Short clips that are no more than three minutes long are presented in rapid succession, introducing new catchphrases, spurring hit records, and sparking trends. One of these trends is the “POV” video, where content creators take viewers back to a specific time in their lives. I revel in them, because the app is dominated by my peers and I can relate to many of the videos under the trend. There is one particular group of videos, however, that have stood out to me the most: “POV: You’re a Black girl growing up in the 2010s”.
The 2010s were some of the best years I’ve had so far in my short life. I was making Rainbow Loom bracelets, sharing TBH (to be honest) posts on Instagram, and connecting with all of my friends on Kik. I also began to develop my own sense of style, music taste, and interests in this time. For me, finding myself did not happen without the influence of some role models. And who were the role models for me, you ask? Enter, the OMG Girlz.
A conglomerate of colorful hair, rapping and singing, and flamboyant outfits, they were IT for me. Beauty, Star, and Babydoll, as they were nicknamed, released “Gucci This (Gucci That)” and its accompanying music video in February 2012, and their follow up single “Where The Boys At?” four months later.
My whole world changed. My sister, best friend, and I began to choreograph routines to their music, and I was on Tumblr and Polyvore (does anyone remember Polyvore?!) looking up outfits inspired by them religiously. All that 11 year old me wanted was colorful hair, tie dye leggings, a pink moto jacket, and a studded snapback. And my parents bought me each item because I begged for them. Whatever the OMG Girlz were doing I was too.
Their aesthetic was big, colorful, and unique. They were a reflection of their music: young, bright, and brash. As their sound matured, so did their style. Tutus were traded in for crop tops and their brightly colored hair was now dyed muted tones of pink, purple, and blue. Yet, they were consistent; the mature OMG Girlz were still the OMG Girlz. When the music video for “Baddie” came out, one can note their bedazzled bra tops and two finger rings.
Everything about them was unapologetic and authentic. They looked like me. They celebrated Black girl friend groups, like the one I had. And they made music that was representative of both African American culture and the zeitgeist of the 2010s. As a preteen I didn’t understand how important representation like that was, but twenty year old me is thankful for the OMG Girlz.
Now that the “Gucci This (Gucci That)” music video is almost ten years old, and we have moved on from the saturated pictures, wedge sneakers, and crackle nail polish of the “swag” era, I look back with some nostalgia for the OMG Girlz, who no longer release music together. They were fun, they were beautiful, they were unique! I must sincerely thank them for the confidence that I found in middle school, which was one of the most awkward times of my life. They inspired me to wear whatever outfit I was feeling, to style my hair how I wanted, and to even do well in school. I think every young Black girl needs to see someone who represents them, inspires them, and motivates them. In the OMG Girlz, I found three.