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Kacey Musgraves Talks ‘Middle of Nowhere’ Fashion, Styling a New Era & Depop Collaboration
Kacey Musgraves has returned. It’s been thirteen years since her debut album, and nearly a decade since she broke out of Nashville and into the mainstream with her 2018 masterpiece Golden Hour. In that time, the singer has dissolved the boundaries of traditional country music, taking listeners on a journey tinged with pop, folk, disco, Americana, and psychedelic rock. Each new sonic evolution has brought its own changes to her personal style, too.
“There are a lot of different sides to me,” Musgraves says. “Ultimately, I always try to lean into what feels the most comfortable and authentic for the time period that I’m in.”
But if it wasn’t clear by the pedal steel guitars, duets with Willie Nelson and Miranda Lambert, and the rhinestones, denim, and Texas-sized belt buckles she’s been seen sporting at her shows, Musgraves’ latest album, Middle of Nowhere, is a love letter to home.
To usher in this new era, the singer has teamed with Depop to release several Shop Drops featuring items from her personal wardrobe (think: the Akimbo camouflage hoodie from her “Dry Spell” music video, Bode beaded Western slacks, fringe Mother jeans, and a red Serratelli cowboy hat). Proceeds from the purchases will be donated to the Young Center for Immigrant Children’s Rights, which advocates for unaccompanied migrant children in their legal proceedings.
Ahead of the latest drop, out today at 3 PM EST, W caught up with Musgraves to talk about her alt-country style, her fashion icons, and her vintage shopping finds.
How did you choose the items included in this Depop collaboration?
It’s made up of personal pieces from my own closet—from music videos, shows, and appearances over the last couple of years. It’s hard for me to let go of stuff sometimes, because each piece holds a memory for me, but I love the thought of passing it along to someone else, so they can have their own memories in it.
How did you land on the Young Center for the donations?
I just think they’re doing incredible work. I’m a big fan of what they’re out there doing, so I was adamant that this is the organization I wanted to support.
Your album dips into several different genres, including Tejano and Norteño. How did your time in Mexico seep into the fabric of Middle of Nowhere?
It’s been inspiring to spend a lot of my time there, and naturally, I’m very inspired by my surroundings. Through osmosis, a lot of those sounds wove their way into the record, but I’ve always been such a fan of Norteño and Tejano music. It’s been a fun to explore, and get to see firsthand the beautiful vaquero culture, and how it’s made its way into Texas.
How would you describe your sense of style for the Middle of Nowhere era?
Western fashion is familiar to me, because I grew up wearing it, and singing Western country and Western traditional songs since I was about eight years old. That style has always felt like home to me, and it’s fun to bring it into the modern day—play with it a little bit, and mix it up.
You have a song called “Everybody Wants to Be a Cowboy.” What’s your reaction to the most recent resurgence of Western fashion we’ve been seeing lately?
Western fashion has had such a moment over the last several years in pop culture. There was definitely a time when I felt super uncool wearing it myself, you know. Like, when I was in eighth grade and everybody else was wearing name brands and Adidas, I was wearing something that looked like it came out of the 1940s. But I’ve grown to appreciate that. And the truth is, Western style looks good on everybody.
With the song, I wanted to say that while I love the aesthetic, the trend will eventually pass—it’s cyclical, and it’s inevitable. But even when the trend fades, there are still people who live the true cowboy lifestyle every single day. It’s hard work, and I have a lot of respect for it.
Speaking of eighth-grade Kacey: What was your style like growing up?
It was a big mix of Western and then sometimes alternative style. There was a period of time when I wore my fringe-y, rhinestone Western pearl snaps with high-top Converse, and studded bracelets. It was definitely a huge convergence of two very different facets. And that was reflected in my musical tastes. I was always trying to find the balance, and lean into both of those sides authentically.
Do you have any holy grail secondhand finds? What are you on the lookout for when you’re vintage shopping?
I always have my eye out for a great pair of vintage Levi’s, or vintage Wranglers. I love a great pair of beat-up cowboy boots, and authentically Native-made turquoise. I’m actually standing in my closet right now—it’s just such a big mix of things. Honestly, I love a great score more than a designer find. I love getting something you’ve been truly searching for. And if it’s $10, then even better.
Every Texas woman knows the power of a good accessory to bring together an outfit. What accessory makes you feel like you’re ready to walk out the door?
I love a really good belt buckle right now, but the key is getting the foundation right. Getting the fit of your jeans just right, and then add on to that. But I also do love some big hair.
I have to say, your hair as a guest judge on RuPaul’s Drag Race is a standout fashion moment for me.
Oh my god, it was neck-breakingly big. [Laughs] But hey, there’s definitely a time and a place. I love some high camp.
Who are your style icons?
I would say Selena Quintanilla, Dolly Parton, Ralph Lauren.
Do you have any fashion regrets?
I would have to think on that one. I feel like we all made unfortunate choices in the mid 2000s.
What’s your go-to two-stepping outfit?
Oh, anything that you can move and sweat in.
1943 would mark the final year in the decade’s output of Lantz cartoons to feature a mix of product by various directors. By the end of the year, the reins of the studio’s work would be turned over entirely to James “Shamus” Culhane, who would give his films a distinctive, minimalistic and stylized background style somewhat predicting some of the work of UPA. Character animation, however, remained fairly fluid, and improved particularly in energy, posing, and camera angles, beginning to rival the dynamic feel of the Warner and Avery influences. However, having only one production unit took its toll on the number of issues per year, cutting output to only seven or eight films a season. Andy Panda, while continuing to make sporadic appearances, was not a favorite of Culhane, and takes little prominence during this period (with the exception of a rare Oscar nomination for Culhane’s Fish Fry, a film that features nothing new in the way of music, mostly based upon variations of “Polly Wolly Doodle”). The Swing Symphonies continued to be the primary proving ground for new ideas and new songs, and Culhane was there to breathe life into their work. Meanwhile, Woody Woodpecker remained the reliable laugh-getter and fan favorite, but was still undergoing transition in finding his voice after the departure of Mel Blanc. As luck would have it, a chance for a musical plot presented itself, requiring the seeking out of someone who could sing well in the voice of the character. They eventually found the right man – and how! 
The Dizzy Acrobat (5/31/43) – Woody Woodpecker had been undergoing some voice changes lately, with Mel Blanc having left voice duties at Lantz and concentrating his work at Warner Brothers. Here, he is voiced by Kent Rogers, who tries his first hand at making Woody sing. His voice perhaps doesn’t quite fit, seeming to have a bit of a New York accent that might have better suited an attempt to do a formative Bugs Bunny. Nevertheless, he provides a somewhat memorable rendition of “I Went To the Animal Fair”, as Woody surveys the layout of the menagerie and sideshow at the circus grounds. He gets stuck like a broken record on the line, “And what became of the monk, the monk, the monk, the monk…”, then pauses to inject his own personal observation – “Well, who cares?” 
Though the musical selection is old hat to this article series, it is too tempting to pass up mention of Woody Woodpecker’s The Barber of Seville (4/10/44), which of course uses the standard aria from the work, Largo Al Factotum. Woody takes over a barber shop when he finds that its proprietor never came back after leaving to take a draft board physical, (“Maybe I can cut my own hair. I cut my own teeth.”), then inflicts chaos upon its customers (an Indian chief, and an Italian construction worker). What is notable about this film, besides being a tour de force for Woody himself and for James Culhane’s energy-filled style of direction (watch for a scene of Woody calling everywhere for Figaro, developing into a pyramid of six Woody’s standing one atop another), is the uncredited vocal performance by Lee Sweetland, a concert-trained baritone, who proved to be the perfect singing match for Woody’s spoken voice when his voice tracks were speeded just right. Little seems to be written about Sweetland, but his connection with animation dates at least as far back as Disney’s Farmyard Symphony (1938), where he provided the voice of a singing farmer operatically calling his pigs. His most commonly-available photo shows him singing to an NBC microphone, indicating his obtaining of radio work, and he was a regular vocalist with an Olde Tyme group, Georgie’s Tavern Band, on Decca. He would record several concert-style operetta works with Paul Weston’s orchestra for Capitol. His wife, Sally Sweetland, would have her own singing and acting career, and the two of them operated a voice studio to teach their art for years. Lee’s sterling performance as Woody in this picture not only puts over a fine rendition of the aria (if you have capability to play the track slowed-down, it must have been a task to sing the piece with extended holds of notes in slow motion, yet come across with convincing dramatic effect when the track is played in Woody’s key), but is even climaxed by a singing version of Woody’s laugh, which again seems an absolutely perfect vocal match to what we would expect from the character’s vocal chords. 
Pass the Biscuits, Mirandy (8/23/43) – Had it not been for affixing a wartime ending to this film, this cartoon might have fit well in TV rotation among Lantz’s other product, and perhaps be remembered alongside such hillbilly epics as Tex Avery’s “A Feud There Was”, Disney’s “The Martins and the Coys”, and the like. Based on a number introduced by Spike Jones, the film initially follows the plot of the song lyric rather closely, and keeps connection with the Jones recording by hiring vocalist Del Porter for the soundtrack, who also sang it on the record. After a hard day of “shootin’ everything [and everyone] in sight”, a hillbilly craves food, and our principal head of household calls for Mirandy’s biscuits, and some gravy to sop ‘em in. Mirandy, who rather closely resembles Mammy Yokum from L’il Abner, prides herself on her buscuits, which won her her man. However, she also prides herself on having no recipe – just throw in the kitchen sink, including glue and chicken feathers to make ‘em light, mix the dough on a washboard, flatten it out in a washing machine wringer, and slap in in an old stove with a spring-release ejector to pop ‘em out when they’re done. For all their renown, the biscuits have one problem – they’re entirely inedible. Chomp down on ‘em, and upper and lower teeth warp in opposite directions. Slap ‘em with an axe, and watch the steel bend. Toss ’em out the window, and knock down the neighbors’ shack. The rival family declares from the rubble, “Mandy’s baking them blockbusters again”, and come a-runnin with their shotguns blazing. Following the song, Mandy’s old man gets the brilliant idea to load all the clan’s rifles with biscuits instead of bullets, to drive the ornery cusses off. In the original song, the idea doesn’t work so well – causing the mountaineer’s gun to explode in his face. Here, however, the biscuits work like a charm, racking up score after score on the rival feuders. The whole fracas is interrupted by someone posting an official war office bulletin on a post nearby, ordering that all families in the area must work or fight. Work? No hillbilly ever heard of it. So both families wind up on the front lines, with Mirandy still supplying the ammunition as a member of the WAAC’s. Hitler, Mussolini, and Tojo make an appearance in a command tank, and are blasted by the baked bombshells, and transformed into a German sausage, a bowl of spaghetti, and a dish of steaming rice. The hillbillies sing in celebration, while the end title asks us to buy more war bonds for victory. There are three known recordings of the song – Spike Jones on Bluebird and on Standard Transcription, and the Merry Macs on Decca – also a quite entertaining version. Spike would also get to perform the number on film, in an unusually gag-laden and highly-entertaining Soundie. 
