Wet Leg’s Rhian Teasdale: ‘Not everyone is going to like you, and that’s OK’

“Not everything is about you” reads the screen to the right of Wet Leg’s Rhian Teasdale in a fuchsia pink almost as sickly as the exaggerated italicised Georgia font it’s typed in; a deliberate act on Deutsche Telekom’s behalf to empower Gen Z, so that they can ‘own their own world’ and not get so caught up in everyone else’s.

We’re in an abandoned Mercedes factory in Moritzplatz, West Berlin, for the launch of Telekom Electronic Beats’ latest campaign, NOT A PASSENGER, fronted by Wet Leg, who are performing an assortment of tracks from their latest album Moisturizer in addition to original fan-approved hits including ‘Chaise Longue’ and ‘Wet Dream’. The campaign itself sees Teasdale covering The Cardigans’ My Favourite Game, all while reenacting front-woman Nina Persson’s manic driving. Only, in Teasdale’s case, such mania is needed as she tries to navigate an endless void of meaningless symbols, noise, and unsolicited advice before taking hold of the wheel to steer the car (and herself) back on track. The same flashy car makes an appearance at the band’s Berlin gig as they use it to drive themselves onto the stage. It’s silly, it’s fun, it’s also kind of brilliant. Mainly because it really is just so Gen Z. “In an age of content overwhelm, filled with noise, opinions and pressures, Gen Z is fighting to tune into their own identity’, notes the brand’s Chief Officer Ulrich Klenke in the press release. “[There are] many opportunities that the digital world has to offer, but the power lies in making it work for – not against you”. Teasdale has some thoughts, too.

“Whether it’s online or IRL, I find that people are always very quick to lend you their opinion,” she tells me, referring to the merry-go-round of hatred people spit online for the sake of, well, spitting. “It could be someone who knows me very well, or it could be someone who I’ve never met and doesn’t know me at all… unsolicited advice knows no boundaries.”

Of course, if you’re someone like Teasdale, who just about falls into the ‘young millennial’ category at 33, being able to tune out the irrelevant fuss and noise that is par the parcel with being online is much easier, especially if you had the privilege of growing up in a time when nowadays’ so-called ‘burner phones’ were all the rage. “I find it’s not often very useful to take on others’ opinions or advice unless it’s me, myself that has reached that decision”, Teasdale continues. “When you’re making music or art of any form, it’s often so closely linked to your own identity that if what you’re making doesn’t feel completely aligned with how you yourself want it to be, then stuff just starts to feel ick”.

Like with any band in the public eye, Wet Leg put as much effort into their identity as they do music, even if the identity in question doesn’t necessarily have a curated look or feel. “I brought in my own stylist, Suz Walsh”, Teasdale mentions, referring to the campaign’s video. “And before arriving on set, we agreed with the glam team that my hair and make-up should be simple and as close to how I normally do it as possible”. That said, Teasdale’s definition of ‘normal’ has sure had its stages. You only have to wind back five years, and 2026 Teasdale remains almost wholly unrecognisable to the one in the Chaise Longue music video, her cottage-core dresses and dark brown hair swapped out for a more seditious look that harmonises Teasdale’s newly bleached hair, tank tops and hot pants with the band’s punchier sound, described by critics as more ‘abrasive’ and ‘guttural’ this time around. As a result, it feels less packaged and more candid. It’s also nice to see Teasdale embrace her own style rather than the cottage-core dresses commonly associated with indie rock.

As for social media’s influence on the band’s makeover? It’s hardly worth considering. “I only use it for work… I don’t really hang out much on there”, she tells me, before mentioning how “when you’re writing, it’s especially important to block out the outside world and remove all sources of unadulterated influence”. A sensible decision, especially in an age when apps like Instagram and TikTok have so much sway over how we think, act, dress and even talk, making it harder for people to know what they like and dislike when everyone is fed the same content.

“Of course it can feel like everything’s becoming a bit homogenised”, Teasdale admits. “Everyone’s being algorithmically fed the same things in this endless feedback loop which sucks”. However, she’s quick to point out that sometimes, or at least when it comes to ‘finding your true self online’, the pros can almost certainly outweigh the cons. “If you’re growing up somewhere small and isolated, like where I’m from on the Isle of Wight, being able to see people expressing themselves freely online can be really encouraging… it can make you realise that there are so many different ways to exist and there’s definitely something to be said for the sense of community you can find online too, you just need to tread carefully and look in the right places. At its best, it can lead to inspiration, experimentation and invention”.

So, does Teasdale feel the need to steer herself back into control as she steadies into the whirlpool that is fame? Not completely. “There were definitely moments where I felt like I’d lost control and let go of the wheel a bit”, she tells me, referring to the whiplash that naturally came from navigating the band’s breakthrough moment during the lockdown to mainstream success that saw them snag a Grammy only a couple years later, in 2023. “It was definitely a shock at first… It all went from zero to one hundred. Everything was just moving so quickly, and we didn’t know any better”.

You certainly wouldn’t think it when watching the band perform live, each member exhibiting the dream balance of cool, calm, and collected chaos needed to make it all seem au naturel and ‘in the moment’, which also happened to mirror the crowd’s zealous passion mixed with bizarre apathy, or at least made bizarre by the fact there wasn’t a single phone in sight.

It’s a welcome rarity when viewed in light of recent news, touting 2026 as the year on stage performers finally had enough: Rosamund Pike halted her own curtain call at Wyndham’s Theatre at the beginning of summer to admonish an audience member for texting through Inter Alia, telling them they’d “broken the bond between cast and audience”, while Lesley Manville used a BBC Radio 4 interview that same month to call photographing her curtain call in Les Liaisons Dangereuses “insulting”, urging audiences to let a show “live in their souls for five minutes”, before reaching for their phones.

Of course, music stars are undeniably more used to being recorded, especially during performances, but it’s still off-putting, no matter the reason. “If you wanna film whole songs or the entire gig, you can’t be in the front row. Get your clip, get your memory, but also be present”, Teasdale affirms.

Of course, much of the debate boils down to performers simply not being able to concentrate when they’re confronted with a sea of screens rather than faces but there is also a much seedier narrative to consider, one that, with it, brings a voyeuristic undertone to the conversation, helped along by Meta’s recent release of its Meta glasses, allowing anyone to secretly film at any given moment. Teasdale isn’t having it. “I’m banning Meta glasses”, she says, only half joking. “All Meta glasses will be snapped in half and stomped on, and you will be refused entry for buying them in the first place”, she tells me.

What Telekom Electronic Beats says about not everything being about you is true. It’s also a message Gen Z is in deep need of hearing. “Not everyone is going to like you, and that’s okay”, Teasdale advises, a refreshing observation that lands the brand’s message of individuality rather nicely, separating Deutsche Telekom from today’s capitalist-driven pop world where all the biggest dogs want to be associated with all the biggest brands and even bigger stars for the sake of a bigger payout.

As for Wet Leg’s next move? You can place your bets that it’ll be just as unexpected as the last. “The more unlikely things that happen to us, the sillier it all feels”, Teasdale says. She clarifies: “Like, getting to go to the Grammys is objectively ridiculous. None of it feels like real life; it still somehow feels like a game.’”Unexpected moves are the name of the game when it comes to Wet Leg, especially considering how the band’s laissez-faire origins stand up against their Deutsche Telekom partnership. That said, it’s all part of it. “I definitely don’t think doing a brand campaign means we’re suddenly taking ourselves more seriously lol [sic]. Touring as a band is expensive. It’s nice to get paid”.