Christina Aguilera has clearly spent her life on set. The performance begins at the entrance of her dressing room; when she’s finally ready to emerge from hours in glam, her own BTS videographer captures the walk — a powerful strut and determined face — like she’s on a runway towards our cover shoot camera. She becomes Xtina, the provocative ultra-“Dirrty” pop legend, at one point flipping into a downward dog while keeping perfect eye contact with the photographer. In that pose — an odd choice that somehow really works — it’s apparent to everyone watching why she’s lasted this long at the top of entertainment. At 43 years old, Aguilera has carved out a legacy of surprising but committed choices, and is more clear-headed than ever with her next moves.

For now, though, she’s celebrating 25 years since the release of her first album, Christina Aguilera. With a fresh-faced, entirely inoffensive cover, the 1999 breakout was a massive commercial success and reached No. 1 on the U.S. Billboard 200 with three No. 1 singles: “Genie in a Bottle,” “What a Girl Wants” and “Come On Over Baby (All I Want Is You).” This effort made Aguilera globally famous and won her a Grammy for Best New Artist, but it wasn’t necessarily the type of creative endeavor she was soul-searching for. The albums that followed would showcase the fearless artist we know today. Most notably: Stripped, with its queer anthems about self-empowerment and fighting back; Back to Basics with its studied reinterpretations of jazz and blues; and the ever-controversial Bionic, which was misunderstood upon release but has become a cult favorite.

On her debut’s official anniversary, PAPER caught up with Christina Aguilera to reflect on nearly three decades of music-making.

Christina, how are you?

Just getting back from Japan, so getting regulated again to LA time.

Is the jet lag intense?

We had a lot of late nights. I don’t really do good with trying to plan out the sleep. I just kind of go with the flow, but I’m okay.

You looked amazing. Everyone was dying over your hair, specifically.

Iggy [Rosales] killed that hair. He was like a surgeon, it was precision in the back of my head. I can’t see the back of my head, clearly, I saw photos after the fact. I knew it was sick, but I didn’t know it was so beautiful and precise. I think it was his happy place, too, so we just went in and had the most fun with the creativity. How can you not when in Japan? It’s the most inspiring place I know.

Iggy always kills it. I also love the video clip going around of your mic falling out of its stand in Japan. What better way to show that you’re delivering a live vocal during “Ain’t No Other Man”?

[Laughs] I know, it’s hilarious. The top of the stand was loose, it wasn’t together, so… somebody’s got to know about that. It popped out and I was like oop, and just hit that note right in time. But I’ve had worse happen on stage, so–

In moments like those, do you just laugh and keep it moving? Or are you an extreme perfectionist in that way?

I am an extreme perfectionist as far as prepping and making sure the details are together. I do as much as I can to prepare because I’ve been through it all after so long, but at the same time, when it does hit the fan it’s like, Whatever. There’s more important things to life than a mic falling off a stand. You’ve got to laugh and roll with it as a performer.

Have you always had that perspective, or is that something you’ve had to grow into and learn? The art of letting go.

I have a really good sense of humor about myself. At the end of the day, I don’t take myself and fame so seriously. I’m in it for the love and the creativity, and how I can connect and hopefully spread messages. But as far as the fame itself, it’s never been the goal. That’s the most frustrating part for me: having to over give myself when I’m such a private person, especially with this age of social media. Everybody wants something of you. But having such a history in the business, I learned very early on that it’s impossible to strive for complete perfection and to please every single person in every way. I am a perfectionist, but there’s an element of being raw that I love with live performing. Being too strategic loses the element of living in the moment as an artist. I’m a weird juxtaposition of things, but now more than ever I get comfortable with the idea of letting go. And you have to be an example to your kids, too. You can’t fall apart, shit’s gonna happen, things are gonna get messy. So I try to keep a positive headspace for them.

When you’re younger and first starting out in your career, everything feels like the end of the world. But you realize quickly that another day comes, and then another day. So you really have to let things go in order to have a healthy perspective.

Only time will teach you that. When you’re young, you don’t know anything else, so you have this sense of narcissism where you think it is all about you. Then you grow up, and at the end of the day people move on, people don’t care. I’m into finding my own joy now, I don’t put my joy in the hands of other people. I think that’s why I’ve never followed the standards with exactly how my albums should sound or fitting a mold. I’ve always tried to be about where I’m at creatively and look at the big picture.

I’m into finding my own joy now, I don’t put my joy in the hands of other people.

You’ve definitely been a rule-breaker, but your debut album captures such a collective moment in pop culture and music, both in what it looked and sounded like. When you look back on that, do you feel like you had creative control?

That was my first go at creating an album and knowing what that whole experience felt like. Also, discovering myself as an artist at a time when pop artists were very label-driven. Now, artists are coming out and having more of a say and creative control, even in their own voice, with what they can put out over social media. It’s a more self-controlled world out there, which is great. But growing up, there was a mold that was clear to me they wanted me to meet. And I get it, you want to sell your records. I grew up on the Mickey Mouse Club, I was a Disney kid, so I knew about following a schedule and doing what you can to get ahead and follow this dream. It showed me early on what it feels like to have massive success and still not feel creatively fulfilled.

So I started accumulating and writing what would be Stripped, while I was having that massive success and charting. I noticed it wasn’t about that for me. Of course, my dreams were coming true and it was fantastic to feel that wave and see that I was being received by fans, people that would later call themselves “Fighters,” but it showed me that it’s not about charting or numbers. Because when you have that and you’re on stage doing songs that don’t speak truly to your heart, then what’s the point? I need in my soul to be more fulfilled than that. So that’s where Stripped was able to be birthed. You’re going to get criticism from both sides no matter what you do, so I learned that I might as well be doing what I want to do and get criticism for it.

It’s like, what’s worse: being criticized for something you made that you love or being widely praised for something you don’t connect with?

For me, it’s about the truth. I have to feel strong in my message and my core and what I’m doing out there. I think it’s been apparent throughout my career that I’ve taken risks and chances. It’s very easy to play it safe for public perspective, so that they feel safe. People are comfortable with what they know, and when you change the script on them and change your sound — which I purposely did with every record — wanting to explore, wanting to experiment and not wanting to stay the same. I didn’t want to be a one-dimensional ballad singer, I didn’t want to be known for one specific thing. That’s where I started with Stripped, showcasing every side of myself unapologetically: from “Dirrty” to the vulnerability of “Beautiful” to the strength of “Fighter.” It caused a lot of commotion and conversation, but I welcomed it. I was like, Why does this not sit well? Why does this bother you so much? It opened up a lot of conversations about politics and sexuality and double standards. I’m really proud, looking back, that I was that young and able to express that and do it passionately.

It makes me think about the question, What is the role of a pop star in our culture? Pop stars are like mirrors to the world, in the things that we love or fear. With “Dirrty,” obviously everyone is sexual to a degree, but for whatever reason they also can be afraid of sex. So when a public figure, a pop star like yourself, makes something addressing that, it really shakes people up in exciting ways.

You can make these choices. You can make them to play it safe and go along with the flow, or you can do things that really move people and shake it up. And I don’t intentionally, I think it’s corny to do things intentionally for pop culture, noise and for attention to stay quote-unquote “relevant.” That becomes its own weird animal that gets away from artistry, period. So you can be a pop artist and genuinely do what you do, and still come through with messages and change it up. I never was interested in making the same record over and over again, that’s my worst idea of music. It’s part of our jobs as musicians to see where music is moving and see what’s happening socially. It really is about connecting and trying to bring people together.

I will never be a part of the creative world in a way that jeopardizes my own integrity.

How do you know that something you’re working on is going to resonate in the way that you’re describing?

When you connect with your gut. When you get into a space where it becomes about a gimmick, when it becomes about trying to fit a mold, when it becomes about trying too hard to get a charted record, you lose the authenticity there. And that’s why the formulaic pop route was always a place I tried to stay away from. Yes, I do pop music. Yes, I love writing things that people can sing along to. I’ve done things for soundtracks or that fit a specific genre and a purpose for clubs that are free and not as deep as I would personally go. But when it comes to making my albums, that’s how you really connect.

Even my kids, they get very upset when I don’t include [my 2010 song] “Bionic” in my set list. My son doesn’t listen to pop music at all. He’s off the grid, but he goes back to the Prodigy and that’s when I was coming up. Certain things really do stand the test of time and are ahead. “Bionic” was not a huge song, but I can’t tell you how much love I get for that specific album. You listen to that song now and it holds up. At the end of the day, you look at the actual body of work. Whenever I’m not around anymore, for generations to come, they can enjoy different aspects of what I did and the music lives on. This is about the bigger picture.

I lived through all your album cycles and Back to Basics was massive for me, so it was interesting to see Bionic received in a much different way. What was it about the timing of that album release?

Back to Basics was a bit more relatable. It addressed sounds that we’ve heard and grew up on: soul music and blues and jazz, things that are very familiar. The imagery too, I was inspired by old Hollywood and glam. In comparison, Bionic was an adventurous album. I was very inspired at the time by electronica music, by M.I.A. and Ladytron, Switch and John Hill, who are incredible producers. They knew how to piece together these intricate electronic sounds, and these are newer to the ear. At the end of the day, sometimes things happen in pop culture that people aren’t ready for. But it’s not for me to really know and dissect, because I put something out there that I truly loved and still love to this day. “Bionic” and “Vanity,” these records that are so fun to perform live and get the audience hype and stand the test of time.

Some of the songs that felt so bizarre at the time could come out now and really hit.

Like “Woohoo,” for instance, is so fun with Nicki [Minaj] on it. And even “Elastic Love” is one of my favorites that I did with M.I.A. That is such a weird song, but we used a really cool effect on my voice and I was excited to use my voice in different ways.

Peaches has an incredible guest verse on “My Girls.” How’d she get involved?

All I listened to was The Teaches of Peaches for the entire Stripped album as I was recording it.

Were you working in-studio with all these Bionic collaborators?

It was a lot of in-person, like Ladytron came to my studio. Sia, she was a very special one, because I was such a fan of hers. I enjoyed being with her and her support while I was recording vocals. She made me laugh a lot and her songwriting is epic. It was such an incredible album with so many different moving parts.

It’s definitely tricky making art for public consumption. With magazines, it can feel similar. In the case of Bionic, when people had polarizing opinions, how did you work through knowing that you love it regardless of anyone’s criticism?

I make that decision before I release it. It’s almost like you’re protective of your child: If I send this out into the world, it’s not mine anymore. You want to protect it and love it, and you don’t want people to be mean to it, like a child. But at the same time, I’m not going to shy away from a challenge. If you’re a real artist, you’re gonna put yourself out there. You get it to a place where it’s like, No matter what somebody can say about it, I love it. It can’t be broken because it’s a part of me, it’s real. That’s why I don’t hold weight in numbers or in other people’s opinions, because it’s so easy to critique and cast judgment. But it comes with the territory, I get it. You have to be able to stay authentic, or else you’ll lose your own sense of self and creativity.

I always wonder why we place so much value on art being the most wide-reaching and resonating with as many people as possible, versus making something that really speaks to a focused group of people. Why does everything need to be for everyone?

Well, you’re speaking to the wrong person. I’m not a machine, I’m not a number. I’m a human who wants to connect on a very human level. To a lot of people, it is about numbers because numbers generate dollars and that’s when it becomes business and stale and, to me, the ugly beast of the creative business. Success is great, it brings people together. It generates conversation. But I will never be a part of the creative world in a way that jeopardizes my own integrity.

There is a new me that has been growing and building, and it is so ready to emerge.

Looking back to the first album and pivoting into Stripped, do you feel like you would have had as much creative agency if you didn’t have the success of your debut?

I’m definitely grateful for that. It set me up with a platform and a fan base. When you’re popular and you have that kind of success, people are waiting for you to fall, as well. Having that experience, I don’t know that Stripped would have been as impactful for me and my fans because I was so boxed in with that record [Christina Aguilera] that I needed to break away from feeling confined in what pop meant in that bubble. At the time, I wanted to get away from it so much and express who I was.

Sometimes in order to break the rules, like you did with Stripped, you have to understand and play inside the rules first. Otherwise you’re just senselessly screaming into the forest without making an actual impact like you did with “Fighter” or “Beautiful.” It’s because you got into the music machine and were successful that you were able to make a change.

I was taught many lessons with [my first album], not only about myself and where I wanted to find joy in music, but when you have that level of success so early on there’s so much disappointment that comes because people change around you. I was surrounded by a lot of male figures, where I constantly heard things you don’t need to hear. I was caught in all of that and learned a lot early on to create “Fighter.” Even “Dirrty,” like stop with your ideals of me being in this little bubble of being sexy, but not too sexy. Be sweet, but not too sweet. Get all these ideals off me. I’m 21, I’m going out to clubs and having fun with my dancers. You work so hard when you’re in that world of having multiple charting hits and you’re on this wave. You’re in such a blur of a schedule that you can’t even think straight. It was a lot and it all went into the artist that I was going to become.

In the early 2000s, there was definitely this weird cultural obsession with youth and innocence that we don’t really have anymore.

It’s inappropriate and you’d get canceled for it, yeah. People are being held accountable now in a way that they were never before.

[Christina’s daughter briefly interrupts the conversation]

Yes, my love? I’m just doing an interview right now, baby, do you need something? No, you’re just checking in. Okay my love, are you hungry? Give me a minute. I love you, I’ll come get you when I’m done.

I’ll give you a little more time. I’m so sorry.

No, you’re so fine.

We’re full of love.

Does she come with you on the road?

It’s a family affair. We are a close-knit bunch. I actually went a week earlier [to Japan] just to have a family vacation there because it’s such a special place for me.

I’m going to be that voice that I didn’t have growing up for my mother, be that voice for other people that feel voiceless in their own circumstances.

That’s amazing. Going back to the topic of innocence, a quick scan of the interviews you were doing around the success of “Genie in a Bottle,” people would talk to you about how provocative the song was, but then try to maintain your innocence in an uncomfortable way. It really was more so a reflection of everyone else at that time. How do you look back on it?

It definitely was a time to hypersexualize the little girl playing innocent thing. That’s why “Dirrty” was so important to me. I hated feeling like I had to play both sides of the coin in a way that I wasn’t comfortable with and in a way that I felt was inauthentic. I’m not trying to be cutesy for nobody, I need to rough this up, whether you like it or not. As I said, I was surrounded by a lot of older males, it was a different time. But it’s definitely an environment to this day I don’t like being around: the macho male gaze. I just can’t do it, it’s a really uncomfortable place for me to be. A lot of people can stomach that, but I’m just not that girl.

“Dirrty” was you taking full ownership of your sexuality, then.

Thank you, yeah.

My first big tour ever was for Back to Basics. I remember I convinced my dad to bring me because I was like, “There are real instruments, a real horn section. She’s throwing it back to the classics.” And then, of course, it was the Pussycat Dolls and Danity Kane opening, a very sexual show. There was just me and my dad watching it together in Minnesota. Those types of moments are so important. Do you think about the lasting impact you’ve had on certain people throughout your career, especially young queer kids like myself?

I’ve gotten the feedback of how certain videos like “Beautiful,” to show two men kissing, were very meaningful for a lot of people and made them feel okay to come out. “Beautiful” addressed things that people don’t want to talk about, things that people don’t want to reveal and I revealed them in that video. We could have made a very different video where I was playing it safe, very cliché, but I went to a place of forcing it upon the public. Looking back, I’m so proud. It was early on in my life where I didn’t even think twice about it. There’s a lot to be said about why something makes you uncomfortable. What is that? Let’s get into it, let’s talk about it. It takes a lot to be able to look inwards and challenge your own beliefs. Most people can’t do it.

As a pop artist and a public figure, you give people the permission to explore these parts of themselves. It’s a very important part of our society, almost religious.

This is why the messages are so important. Coming from an abusive household and seeing my mom feel voiceless and disempowered ignited something in me very early on. I grew up singing in front of people. I could see the reaction as a little girl, when I opened my mouth to sing. I was born with something I believe to be a gift, and I don’t take that lightly. I’m going to be that voice that I didn’t have growing up for my mother, be that voice for other people that feel voiceless in their own circumstances. It was very hard for me to stomach a lot of what I saw growing up, so I made a very early decision that I would come with something to say.

Creatively, what inspires you today? You’ve been performing a lot, but are you working on new music?

I have done a lot of traveling and I’m definitely ready for some new material to bring to the show. I took a minute to really put together my Spanish album. I had always wanted to do that and follow another Spanish album from my debut. I came home with a Latin Grammy, it was such a beautiful experience. I had the best time in Miami recording that. Music is dying to come out of me. At this point, there is a new me that has been growing and building, and it is so ready to emerge. It’s going to take a little longer than I wanted it to, but it is what it is. Being a mom is super important to me, my private life, finding things outside of the stage that truly bring me inner joy. You have to have a balance of both. I would not be happy if I didn’t have the stage and my creativity and my music to express myself, but also having my personal time to do yoga and be in my own backyard and have time to be a kid or be with my kids is so vitally important to me.

If you’re always working, there’s no space to be creative. I’d imagine it’s difficult to find balance.

I definitely need a moment to be left alone, to make my art and come up with what I have to say. But I have so many lyrics at this point. I have so many thoughts and feelings, and I’m a different person than I was even last year. I’m growing at a very fast rate, and I notice a lot about myself and the kind of life that I want to live and the kind of peace that I want to have in my life. What I will tolerate now and what I won’t. Not allowing myself to go places that I know are going to disrupt my happiness and peace and joy. Releasing all of it into an album is going to be a part of that joy and peace that I get. It’s just going to take a little bit longer than I wanted it to, but it’s coming. I believe that it will be the most authentic work I’ve ever done.

Photography: Erica Snyder
Styling: Chris Horan
Hair: Yuichi Ishida
Makeup: Hector Espinal
Nails: Zola Ganzorigt
Set design: Natalie Falt

Digitech: Graham Austin
Photo assistants: Brandon Yee, Andrei Kvapil
Set design assistant: Natasha Romano
Production assistant: Ricardo Diaz
Styling assistants: Greer Heavrin, Ian Elmowitz
Retouching: Yelena Popova

Editor-in-chief: Justin Moran
Managing editor: Matt Wille
Editorial producer: Angelina Cantú
Cover type: Jewel Baek
Publisher: Brian Calle