Mirrors have never been neutral. They can offer recognition, but they can also become tiny courts of appeal, places where a face is measured against rules it did not write.
On ‘Unpretty,’ Arabella Lucia takes that uneasy ritual and gives it volume. Her version of TLC’s 1999 classic is an alt-rock single alert to filters, FaceTune and algorithmic pressure, yet it does not reduce its argument to a lesson about screens.
It is concerned with the quieter damage that comes when external approval moves indoors, shaping the way a person judges herself.
In Lucia’s hands, the song’s familiar emotional core remains intact, while the force around it changes shape. This is a cover built to make self-worth feel physical again.
Lucia is a multilingual Armenian-Canadian singer, guitarist and songwriter based in London, an artist whose work draws on punk attitude, alternative rock and an infectious pop sensibility.
That mixture matters here because ‘Unpretty’ asks for confrontation without sacrificing feeling. Her approach is guitar-driven and emotionally direct, with big hooks meeting darker undercurrents and a refusal to smooth away difficult parts.
Rather than treating beauty standards as an abstract social problem, Lucia turns the song inward, confronting internalised judgement and the exhausting search for confidence on one’s own terms.
That inward motion gives this single review its force. A remake of a celebrated pop record can fall into reverence, reproducing every contour as proof of affection.
Lucia chooses a harder route. She retains the nostalgia and emotional pull associated with the original, then puts them under the pressure of crashing drums, thumping bass and layers of seething intensity.
The decision feels apt for a generation taught to assess its image at the speed of a swipe. The result is a present-tense account of how self-criticism can survive every new tool designed to perfect a face.
The arrangement is designed around escalation. Crashing drums and thumping bass give the record weight from below, while Lucia’s guitar work supplies the heat.
Her soulful, soaring solos do not decorate the song from a safe distance. They carry its frustration, especially in the expressive middle-eight solo, where the track lets its contained pressure speak through the instrument.
Lucia’s edgy vocal is central to the performance. Her voice can move from vulnerability to full-throttle intensity, allowing the record to hold tenderness and anger in the same frame without treating either as a weakness.
A painted self-portrait offers a useful parallel. The most compelling ones do not erase uncertainty from the sitter’s face. They let the marks, shadows and tensions remain, then make those marks part of the picture’s honesty.
‘Unpretty’ works in a similar fashion. Its concern with appearance reaches identity, pressure and the cost of being asked to resemble somebody else’s preferred version of you.
That is why its rock framing lands with purpose. The guitars make the conflict audible, but the song’s enduring ache comes from the gap between how a person feels and how she is told to look.
The release marks the announcement of Lucia’s forthcoming five-track debut EP, due in November. The collection will include ‘Hostage You Call Baby,’ a dark, cinematic alt-pop-meets-rock track about control, fear, survival and reclaiming agency, alongside an acoustic reworking that foregrounds voice and guitar.
Two further songs remain unheard. Taken together, the project addresses identity, ambition, vulnerability and the personal situations that leave people diminished or questioning themselves.
‘Unpretty’ offers a concise entry point into that wider concern, with appearance placed under a harsh light.
Lucia is also recording her debut album at London’s Eastcote Studios with a production, writing and mixing team headed by Oskar Winberg.
Her live appearances have included The Alternative Escape, Bludfest at Milton Keynes Bowl and Gibson Garage London’s Acoustic Sessions, spaces that fit an artist whose guitar and voice remain at the centre of her work.
For listeners drawn to alternative rock with pop instinct and serious emotional charge, Arabella Lucia’s ‘Unpretty’ offers a forceful re-reading of a song that still knows where it hurts.
It does not argue that confidence is easy, or that the mirror can be defeated in a single chorus. Instead, it turns the act of looking back at oneself into a loud, unsettled act of resistance.
When a polished feed dictates so much about how a face should appear, what does it take to keep one’s own reflection?
