When news broke over the weekend that Brigitte Bardot, the French cinema legend and animal rights activist, had died at age 91, tributes poured in from across the globe. Among those to pay homage was rising American pop star Chappell Roan, who took to Instagram on December 28, 2025, to share a glamorous photo of Bardot and write, “Rest in peace Ms. Bardot. She was my inspiration for 'Red Wine Supernova.'” The reference was unmistakable: Roan’s hit song opens with the lyric, “She was a playboy, Brigitte Bardot / She showed me things I didn’t know.”
But what seemed at first to be a heartfelt tribute quickly unraveled into controversy. As fans and followers began to respond, many pointed out that Bardot’s legacy was far from unblemished. While she was celebrated for her roles in films like ...And God Created Woman and Contempt, and for founding the Brigitte Bardot Foundation in 1986 to champion animal rights, Bardot was also infamous for her far-right political stances and repeated convictions in France for inciting racial hatred—particularly against Muslims. According to Le Monde, Bardot was “the only celebrity to openly defend the far right,” and her advocacy for animals “went hand in hand with her Islamophobia.”
Roan’s initial Instagram post, which simply honored Bardot’s cinematic and musical influence, drew swift backlash—especially from LGBTQ+ fans who were dismayed to see their pop idol praising someone with a history of homophobic and racist remarks. “The concept of a queer pop anthem being inspired by an openly homophobic person,” wrote one disappointed fan on social media, capturing the mood of many in Roan’s community.
As the criticism mounted, Roan responded the next day with a candid and remorseful update. “Holy shit I did not know all that insane shit Ms. Bardot stood for,” she wrote in an Instagram Story on December 29. “I do not condone this. Very disappointing to learn.” She added, “[Obviously] I do not condone this,” making it clear that her admiration was rooted in Bardot’s artistic persona—not her politics. According to Billboard, Roan’s clarification came after fans informed her of Bardot’s convictions and controversial views.
The episode highlights the complicated legacy Bardot leaves behind. In her prime, Bardot was an international sensation—an actress, singer, model, and fashion icon whose image defined an era. Her duet with Serge Gainsbourg, “Bonnie and Clyde,” remains a pop culture staple, and her cinematic roles often portrayed sexually liberated women, pushing boundaries in films like And God Created Woman. Yet, as Variety and Le Monde report, Bardot’s later life was marked by a sharp turn into political controversy. She was convicted five times by French courts for inciting racial hatred, largely due to her inflammatory statements about Muslims and immigrants. In one notorious instance, Bardot warned of a future “Muslim France,” writing, “They slaughter women and children, our monks, our civil servants, our tourists and our sheep, one day they’ll slaughter us, and we’ll have deserved it.”
Bardot’s associations further deepened the controversy. Since the 1990s, she was married to Bernard d’Ormale, an adviser to Jean-Marie Le Pen, founder of the far-right Front National—now the National Rally, led by Marine Le Pen. Bardot also criticized the #MeToo movement as “hypocritical” and “ridiculous,” and ranted against the LGBT community in her 2003 book A Cry in the Silence. Her outspoken positions made her a polarizing figure in French culture and beyond.
The Brigitte Bardot Foundation, which announced her passing on December 28, remembered her as “an exceptional woman who gave everything and gave up everything for a world more respectful of animals.” The Foundation pledged to continue her work “with the same passion and the same fidelity to her ideals.” Yet, as Billboard and Variety both note, any celebration of Bardot’s legacy must grapple with the darker aspects of her public life.
Roan’s situation is emblematic of the challenges artists face when their inspirations turn out to be complicated, or even deeply problematic, figures. It’s not uncommon for celebrities to reference Bardot—Olivia Rodrigo, for instance, sings on “Lacy,” “Dazzling starlet, Bardot reincarnate / Well, aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist?” Sabrina Carpenter has channeled Bardot’s style, and Bob Dylan once quipped about her in his song “I Shall Be Free.” But as Bustle and NME point out, the difference here was the context: Roan’s tribute came at a moment when Bardot’s political legacy was front and center, and her fanbase—particularly LGBTQ+ listeners—was quick to react.
Roan has made her own stance on social issues clear in the past. She launched the “Midwest Princess Project” in October 2025, supporting organizations that provide resources to trans youth and LGBTQ+ people. When she collected the Grammy award for Best New Artist, she used her platform to call on the music industry to offer livable wages and health care to developing artists. These actions stand in stark contrast to Bardot’s record, underscoring why Roan’s initial praise for Bardot struck such a nerve among her fans.
In the aftermath, some fans expressed understanding, noting that Bardot’s name had been in “Red Wine Supernova” for years without drawing controversy, and suggesting Roan’s ignorance of Bardot’s politics was plausible. Others, however, felt that public figures have a responsibility to be aware of the full legacy of those they praise, especially when issues of racism and homophobia are involved.
The debate touches on broader questions about the separation of art from the artist, and the ways in which cultural icons are remembered—or reassessed—after their deaths. Bardot’s dual legacy as a symbol of sexual liberation and as a voice for the far right is a reminder of how public figures can inspire both admiration and condemnation, often in equal measure.
For Chappell Roan, the episode served as a public learning moment. Her swift and unequivocal repudiation of Bardot’s views, coupled with her ongoing advocacy for LGBTQ+ rights, reassured many fans of her values. But it also sparked a renewed conversation about the complexities of influence, memory, and responsibility in the age of social media.
As tributes and reckonings continue to unfold, Roan’s experience stands as a case study in how quickly public sentiment can shift—and how artists must navigate the legacies of those who came before, for better or worse.
