The day Dolly Parton died, the whole world felt that loss. The singer-songwriter, philanthropist, and 11-time Grammy Award winner was known for her many projects, including her Imagination Library and over 3,000 songs. But on a larger scale, she was known for her kindness, generosity, and the rhinestone she left on the butterfly wing that is girlhood.
In an article published in Variety Magazine in 2023, she recalls one of her dear friends and fellow musician Chet Atkins telling her to “tone down [her] look” early on in her career. Her response? “‘Well, okay, I’ll take that to heart, Mr. Atkins. Thank you for your advice.’ And of course, I just got worse with it.”
Her extravagant and glamorous look became part of her brand over the span of her career. She became recognizable for her big blonde hair, bedazzled outfits, platform heels, and long acrylic nails. Additionally, she was very open and honest about her many cosmetic surgeries, often poking fun at them. She would say, “It costs a lot of money to look this cheap.” Her shamelessness and confidence around her looks and image gave permission for many women to feel just as powerful.
I can still remember my first introduction to Dolly Parton; my mom is a huge fan, and I remember my grandparents gifting her a vintage Christmas poster featuring Dolly with fellow country artist Kenny Rogers when I was about seven or eight.
I asked, “Who is that lady?” and my mom replied, “The queen of country.”
Once I had become aware of Dolly and was able to start recognizing many of her songs that I already knew, it felt like she had always been there. The house was always full of her music; growing up in a single-parent, all-female household, her albums were the anthem of my childhood.
My mom and I watched “Dumplin’” (2018) together, a beautiful movie about a mother/daughter relationship and a beauty pageant, tied together with a big sparkly Dolly-shaped bow.
For holidays and birthdays, we were given Dolly-themed kitchenware and various decorations, including everything from posters to spatulas.
Every year, we listened to her holiday albums on the way to my grandparents’ house for Christmas. My favorite song is “Hard Candy Christmas.”
It seems that, although I can clearly remember learning her name for the first time, there was never a point in my life that couldn’t be defined by a Dolly Parton song. She was just always there, doing good and spreading good and singing beautifully, all while being authentically Dolly.
The day she died, my heart broke.
I called my mom first thing, and it was the first time I’d ever heard her cry over a celebrity death.
Because Dolly was so much more than a celebrity.
I grew up in that weird period in the early 2000s where girls were taught to act like boys to be seen as “tough” or “strong.” For a long time, I thought that to have ‘girl power,’ I had to reject all those “frilly” traits that were associated with femininity, which therefore made me seem less than. Dolly Parton not only helped me to stop thinking that way, but she helped me to reclaim so many symbols of girlhood and see them as powerful: makeup, the color pink, dresses, etc. She helped me to learn that I can feel empowered and independent and also care about not wanting to chip a nail. She made me realize that what I wear and how I choose to present myself does not define the levels of strength within me.
Her unapologetic-ness surrounding her femininity resonated with so many women and gave so many the power and confidence to be themselves truly and faithfully.
I can see her legacy when I’m scrolling on Instagram, and I see reels of women playing dress-up with their daughters.
I can see her legacy when I’m surrounded by my female peers every day wearing all types of outfits, all of which are fabulous.
I can see her legacy in color, in music, and in laughter. I saw it on the day she died, when it felt like everyone at Chico State was brought together by her universal message of love and kindness.
Her presence made the world feel like an easier place to live in. No matter your political or personal beliefs, the knowledge that Dolly Parton was alive and spreading goodwill to children and to those in need was a comforting thought.
Although she is gone, I know that her life’s work will be continued, because it has to be. What she stood for cannot die. As long as sparkle and glitter exist, so will Dolly, because we all know how impossible it is to fully get rid of glitter. It lingers. And so will her memory.
Rest in peace, Dolly Parton, singer-songwriter, philanthropist, 11-time Grammy Award winner, and all-around champion of girlhood.