Isabella Lovestory Meets Her Reflection

With a deconstructed reggaeton sound and a devil on her shoulder, the Montreal-based artist examines the dark side of vanity.

By Ben Boddez

Published on July 7, 2025

When she was attending visual art school at Montreal’s Concordia University, the Honduran-born reggaeton infused alt-pop artist Isabella Lovestory created her eventual extravagant and fashion-forward party girl persona as a school project based around creating a pop star.

Inspired by a display of some of Dolly Parton’s famous outfits in Dallas Fort Worth International Airport, the accompanying music soft launched as more of a joke – like a dedication to her cat complete with meows. As her passions and strengths grew, however, it took until now for the humanity behind the “Isabella” character to be quite so evident.

While Lovestory has never been one to shy away from references to looking fabulous, material things and all that surrounds the glamorous life in her previous work, the meaning behind her latest set of tracks, Vanity, takes more of a look behind the curtain.

Accompanied by a host of playful sonic twists and turns – like deconstructed, metallic reggaeton beats and danceable pop instincts that feel like a combination of ‘80s textures and Y2K melodies and attitudes, a personal tale of loss inspired Lovestory to examine the dark side of beauty standards and how the exhausting pursuit of them might not be necessary. Yes, even for a pop star projecting non-stop confidence.

“I’m not being like, ‘Oh, this is about self empowerment,’ in a way that’s super obvious. I think it’s about the complexity of human nature,” she says. “There’s beauty in tragedy and beauty in darkness. Even if this was written in the 1800s and we didn’t have Instagram and TikTok and all those things that are constant reminders of our appearance, I think the mirror is always going to be there, and has always been there. It’s an ancient feeling.”

The writing sessions started after Lovestory’s first-ever headlining tour started disastrously: some luggage containing all 10 of the costumes she had handmade for the stage were stolen, having to rely instead on outfits that fans sent her to make up for it. Even if Lovestory’s fans hadn’t been so generous, though, the lesson she took away from the theft was that she easily could have put on a great show, a show that still felt distinctly like an Isabella show, wearing nothing at all.

“I had all the magic in my eyes, feeling like a little girl, so innocent, about to embark on this journey, and then, boom, all my shit gets stolen. That was my first inspo to have to go inwards and surrender to life in a way,” she says. “Swag comes from within. No matter if you have the coolest, trendiest outfits, or nothing at all, I think if you emote that passion and that ritualistic performance in what you do, I think you don’t need anything. But also, it’s fun to dress up and it’s fun to decorate your existence with things. So it’s the duality of everything.”

That duality is represented on the album by tracks that are so much fun that the lines start to get blurred: sometimes you’re not sure if you’re hearing Lovestory talk, or if you’re hearing from Vanity herself, another character that Lovestory has described as “The gorgeous devil on my shoulder who never stops whispering that I need more lip gloss, more Botoxxx, more illegal activities, more perfume, more trash, more everything.”

She’s the one who perpetuates songs like “Putita Boutique” – the translated title suggesting that Vanity is running a makeover shop to turn customers into “little hoes.” Like all of Lovestory’s music, when you read through the translated lyrics – one of them says “I’ll give you a kiss and then charge you for it” – there’s an undercurrent of humour, one that suggests it’s all a bit of a scam. The title track, on the other hand, finds Lovestory at her most emotive, contemplating why her material things make her feel the way they do.

“I think it encapsulates the loneliness I feel when I’m alone in a hotel room with nothing else but myself and my reflection, and my objects that I’m just looking at and I have to romanticize to not feel as lonely,” she says. “I talk about my perfume bottles, or being alone with my mascara. How those material, banal objects can become my friends when I’m just by myself.”

All of this results in the kind of music that you could easily throw down to in the club, but hides a deeper significance if you look a little bit closer. It all represents that duality that Lovestory wanted to present: she even intentionally juxtaposes more high-brow references to Rilke and Machiavelli beside some of her most out-there lyrics. If the album itself was a perfume bottle? Lovestory says it would smell like “pulverized feathers, screws, and rose petals.”

Lovestory’s desire to bend musical rules – and the reason why you can never quite guess what the next track you hear will sound like – partially comes from a diverse background and a diverse set of influences. Her father was a radio DJ known for cutting through the mainstream reggaeton dominating the Honduran airwaves to play some tracks by The Smiths and The Cure.

Following suit – and also rebelling a little against the conservative attitudes pervading in her home country – Lovestory cast a wide musical net, latching onto anyone who did anything unexpected: everyone from Lady Gaga to K-pop artists (“They’re fearless in experimenting with how a song is structured,” she says) and Kim Gordon.

“She’s such a badass,” Lovestory says about the former RANGE cover star. “She’s always remaining authentic with her underground vibes, but also, she’s not afraid of experimenting with genres or putting that punk attitude into the mainstream. I also love how she’s older, and she’s killing it and doing stuff that’s fresher than so many young people I know that recycle the same shit over and over. I think that we can move forward in music only if we break the rules of what you think should be.”

Lovestory’s adulation for Gordon – and her attitude about making anything high fashion, no matter what kind of a price tag or a fancy logo is slapped on it – brings to mind a lyric on the track “Eurotrash”: after flexing her fake Louis bag, she says “This magazine is from last year, but I prefer that look than what you’re wearing, ew. Sometimes I love what’s fake, sometimes I like things that can break.” For Lovestory, it’s all about having the confidence to pull it off.

Lovestory has often called music the “most beautiful and complete art form” – partially stemming from some negative art school experiences that left her feeling like others’ snobbish approaches made her own work feel unwelcome. As her music draws influences from cultures all over the world, at the end of the day, it’s all about accessibility.

“What I didn’t like about the art world, maybe even films, is that things can feel really exclusive to people that have access to them through whatever it is,” she says. “I think music can combine all those things and serve it in a really accessible way to everybody, and I think that it’s a perfect way to show people all these different references. You don’t have to have an art degree, you don’t have to read all these books, you don’t have to have a Criterion account to have access to beauty and ideas.”

Despite all of this, Lovestory still says that she has ambitions of being a film director one day: “Eventually, when I’m sick and tired of being on stage and having to care about my makeup and my costumes and my visuals, I’m gonna be the old grumpy lady director for sure, just like not give a fuck,” she says. Just like her unpredictable music, or her propensity to grab some designer outfits after making an album decrying vanity itself, you’re never quite sure what Isabella Lovestory will do – just that she’ll look great and have a great time doing it.