When Perrie Edwards first auditioned for The X Factor in 2011, 17 years old, blonde hair nest-like on her head, biting her lip, anxious of the roaring crowd as she geared up for a rendition of Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know”, she couldn’t have known what was coming.
Nor could Jade Thirlwall as she sang The Beatles, or Leigh-Anne Pinnock with Rihanna, or Jesy Nelson as she warbled, “I bust the windows out your car”. In weeks, the teenagers would be pulled together: first confused and reluctant, then relentlessly determined, through gruelling training and rehearsals into the first band ever to win the competition. Grey Wool Felt Conveyor Belt
“We were thrown into it,” says Edwards, now 27. “We loved our experience and got to live our dreams, but it was tough.”
It is nine years later and the women have wrangled control. In Little Mix The Search, they are embarking on their own hunt to put together a band to join them on tour. “I don’t want people to feel like they’re on a conveyor belt,” says Edwards. “Because that’s how we felt – we weren’t actual humans.”
We are squeezed into a trailer at the back of a production studio in Essex, where the quartet have spent weeks filming the audition stages and preparing for live shows which will, naturally, be delayed. It is February, and they are huddled close, sequins gleaming under big hoodies the only clue that they are pop stars, which really, is the key to their success: besides intelligent, infectious songs and gorgeous harmonies, the reign of these multimillion-selling, multibillion-streaming Brit Award winners has lasted so long precisely because they are hardworking, shrewd, open, funny and normal.
They have been fiercely guarded by their fans, both throughout the competition and ever since, not because of careful, Spice Girls-style “pick a favourite” branding but because, while they might have started out as soloists, being in a band was the girls’ only chance, so they bonded quickly, and formidably.
“We’re all from working-class backgrounds, and this completely changed our life,” says Thirlwall, 27. “We knew the way to get through it was to do it together. I think that’s the main reason we’re still around now, not letting anyone else get in our heads or separate us or create a rivalry. Which is what the media over the years have constantly tried to do, but we never gave into it. We’ve grown into women together.”
Little Mix The Search is bright, sugary, and almost impossibly positive: it is no stretch to see this as a deliberate break from talent shows like the one on which they were formed. Gone are the dated, humiliating or “sob story” auditions, which audiences have long turned away from: instead, the girls lounge on a sofa in the pastel-pink audition room, tactile and sisterly to each contestant, each of whom has access to hair and make-up, vocal training, choreography, anything to make them less nervous and more comfortable. The priority, Edwards says, is that everyone, whatever the verdict on their singing voice, has a “good day out”.
“Maybe we shouldn’t, but we form an attachment,” says Pinnock, 29. Having been on the other side, doling out rejection is “mentally draining”, says Edwards. “We’ve got our professional heads on, but we know how they feel emotionally.” The women insisted that a substantial proportion of the budget was spent on contestant welfare. “When they don’t get through, it isn’t just a phone call – it’s weeks of aftercare,” says Nelson, 29.
And when they are successful, contestants will be carefully guided through the music industry to ensure artistic control. “We didn’t want them to be forced to sign with a certain group of people or label or management,” says Edwards. “They might want to make their own decisions,” Edwards continues. “We never had that.” In 2018, Little Mix broke with Simon Cowell’s label, Syco, amid rumours their relationship had gone sour. He launched his own doomed rival talent show, X Factor: The Band, shorly after The Search was announced. “He wanted to get his out before ours didn’t he?” Pinnock laughs. “We weren’t bothered.”
‘It’s a never-ending cycle of being the dark horse. We’re constantly having to prove to people every day why we deserve our success’
They have only praise for their mentor on The X Factor, Tulisa Contostavlos – to whom they remain close and whose guidance they want to emulate. However, looking back, Nelson admits: “We were so scared of being thrown off the show if we were to say no to things. We wanted to please people. I wish we’d had more support. We didn’t have any.”
From the start, the band made clear that they never intended to be role models, but have consistently wielded their considerable influence for good on issues such as sexual consent, feminism, LGBT+ rights and mental health. Still, they have struggled to be respected.
“When you’re in a girl band, you might be deemed not pretty enough, but when you are pretty enough, you’re just seen as a puppet, just a pretty girl band member, so then you have to prove that you’re talented as well,” says Thirlwall.
“But then you’re trying to prove why you’re just as credible as any male artist. It’s a never-ending cycle of being the dark horse. Yes, we can write music; yes, we can actually sing; yes, we’re businesswomen; yes, we are in control of our brand. We’re constantly having to prove to people every day why we deserve our success.”
Last year, Nelson won a Bafta for her searing BBC Three documentary Odd One Out, in which she spoke about the trolling that led to depression and a suicide attempt. Pinnock is making her own film for the channel about the racism she has faced as the only black member of a girl band.
“People love to see you get to the top in this industry and then, as soon as you get to the top, they love to try to take you off it,” says Thirlwall. “It’s such a f**ked-up way of thinking. And it’s usually women.”
Little Mix: The Search is a kinder take on the TV talent show — Simon Cowell should take note
We are speaking three days after the death of Caroline Flack and the band members are sombre: she was a friend and the presenter of sister show The Xtra Factor the year they won. Perhaps, it was hoped, there had come a tipping point in how we treat people in the public eye: #BeKind flooded tributes across social media. But, says Nelson, “The public don’t see celebrities as real people. This can’t be something that just settles and is forgotten.
I’ve seen so many people campaigning, a petition to take it to parliament to stop the media from publishing stories that aren’t true. I think it’s so vital. It’s something we struggled with in the beginning, we’d read so many stories written about ourselves and they weren’t true and we’d think, ‘what the f**k?’ It’s so frustrating because when I wasn’t in the industry, I know for a fact that whenever I was in the Co-op or Tesco or the hairdresser’s and I’d see a story about someone, I’d believe that. I didn’t know. It’s so damaging to peoples families, their mental health, and it shouldn’t be allowed.”
“What makes it worse,” says Edwards, “Is you’re also told to sit quiet. You’re told to read that false information, and you’re not really supposed to bring light to it, so then you’re even more frustrated.”
“So many people are dying,” Nelson continues. “Why is nothing being done about it? I wish we could go back to the days of no social media.”
Were things easier then? Thirlwall thinks so. “Say the Spice Girls had someone hating on them, they’d send you hate mail, but you didn’t have to read that. Rip it up! You could avoid it. You can’t now.”
Edwards agrees. “If people had to go down to the post office and sit and physically write a letter of hate then lick the envelope, put a stamp on it, send it off, then sit and hope that they’re gonna read it… It wouldn’t happen, because who the f**k has the time?” It means the connection between artist and fan has never been closer, but all agree with Pinnock: “The curse is overriding the blessing at the minute.”
‘They say, ‘you wanted to be famous, so what did you expect?’ Well, I didn’t really ask for this…’
Surely, then, they must feel a conflict about encouraging other young people, especially teenage girls, to follow in their path? “I have my fears,” Nelson nods. “It doesn’t matter what a contestant looks like to me, but when we put them in the outside world, knowing what I had to deal with when I was with these girls, I think: ‘Oh God, is it going to happen to them? Do I want to put them through that?’”
“They get education on social media,” says Pinnock. “Every person who comes through has a warning: you will be on TV, you will be known, and there is a chance for people to have an opinion about you. We didn’t have a warning.” It gave them the chance to live their dreams, to travel the world – it gave them each other. Still, I leave the women – brilliant, illuminating, sharp – wondering whether the price they’ve paid was worth it.
“It’s a, ‘you asked for it’ mentality,” says Thirlwall. “‘You wanted to be famous, so what did you expect?’ Well, I didn’t really ask for this…”
“I just wanted to sing for people, make people happy, do what I love, because singing gives me a funny feeling in my tummy,” says Edwards. “I’m not like: ‘I can’t wait to be written shit about on Twitter later!’ Who wants that? Nobody.”
Little Mix The Search begins on Saturday at 7pm on BBC1.
The band’s sixth album, Confetti, is released 6 November.
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