Seven of you predicted this, and (seemingly) correctly pegged it to Spiderman: Homecoming, so I hope you are all VERY smug and proud of yourselves and that someone you love — or at least like — takes you out to a celebratory dinner.
This cover is wonderful. In truth, of the high-fashion magazines, W might have been more fun — more likely to take the chameleonic, high-fashion, uber-artistic aspects of Zendaya and splash them all over its cover — but Mario Testino’s interior pictures do at least include this amazing pink-feathered one that I deeply hope is a subscriber cover. It’s divine. And I can’t really complain about how the cover turned out: She looks beautiful and connected and interesting on the cover. Vogue isn’t the magazine that’s going to play up her youth, anyway, except in the context of her inner mogul and wisdom-beyond-her-years. Which it does well. It is the ideal formidable-star-on-the-rise piece, with a graceful and eye-catching photo to front it.
I found the story engrossing, in part because I hadn’t read much about Zendaya and so I found myself hungry for the details. For instance, I knew she did Disney shows, but had no idea she’s still on one, K.C. Undercover. Or that when she negotiated for it, at a time when she was famous with her fan base but hadn’t transcended it yet, she was not shy about shaping it to her liking:
“First they would need to make her a producer. Next she objected to the show’s title, which at the time was Super Awesome Katy. “I was like, ‘The title is whack. That’s gonna change.’ ” She then rejected her character’s name (“Do I look like a Katy to you?”) and insisted that the show feature a family of color. There were other conditions: “I wanted to make sure that she wasn’t good at singing or acting or dancing. That she wasn’t artistically inclined. I didn’t want them to all of a sudden be like, ‘Oh, yeah, and then she sings this episode!’ No. She can’t dance; she can’t sing. She can’t do that stuff. There are other things that a girl can be.” Zendaya issued some final requirements: “I want her to be martial arts–trained. I want her to be able to do everything that a guy can do. I want her to be just as smart as everybody else. I want her to be a brainiac. I want her to be able to think on her feet. […] I have so many friends who say yes to everything or feel like they can’t stand up for themselves in a situation.” She is now pounding a fist on the dining table at Soho House. “No: You have the power.”
That’s a tattoo in the making.