LADETTE embraces the bold, unapologetic behaviours of ladette culture, exploring them through agency, identity, and movement. The British term was coined in the 1990s, when some women adopted a traditionally “laddish” way of expressing themselves. As a young girl, I found that rebellion inspiring - a direct response to the expectations placed on how women should behave. What stands out now is that those women were criticised for adopting “masculine” behaviours, simply for being themselves, or for rejecting the pressure to conform to a more palatable, “feminine” ideal. At the same time, it is important to acknowledge that ladette culture existed within a “lad culture” movement shaped by lad mag culture and media narratives around gender and desirability, which some critics now see as tainted by problematic attitudes towards women.    

Beneath the surface, LADETTE reflects a broader cultural tension. We are caught between lingering conservative values and a growing desire for people to live openly and confidently within their own identities. The film doesn't attempt to define ladette culture as right or wrong - it asks what it reveals about us, and our cultural reflex to moments of social change.

Choreographically, I tuned into my own movement history, starting out in classical ballet - defined by poise, control, and etiquette. From there, my body resisted its own discipline, shifting into something more raw, weighted, and strength-driven. This tension becomes the central language of the piece.

Rather than opposing forms, the choreography exists in the friction between them. Tradition is interrupted and control gives way to desire. This push-pull reflects a broader negotiation of identity - how the body holds multiple influences at once.

The film is set within an ivory-coloured grand hall, lined with elegant pilasters, where a mass of 42 dancers engulfs the space - at times militant, at others playful and fierce. The styling extends this tension: Adidas sportswear sits alongside bras, petticoats, and ruffs, merging ideas of power, physicality, and tradition.

Since making the film, I’ve found myself reflecting on the 1990s altogether. Did ladette culture offer a kind of freedom - a no-fuss attitude that feels harder to access now? Today, that sense of possibility feels more complicated.

I expect LADETTE to divide audiences - and I welcome that. Some may feel seen or energised by it. Others may feel relieved that this era has passed. And some may resist the conversation entirely. For me, that tension is the point.