Glitter or Gold: True Womanhood in a Celebrity-Loving World

Have you ever wondered why we’re so drawn to women beyond our reach? We catch sight of an untouchable star, often unaware of how we hope her light might touch our own lives.

It’s tempting to think that “celebrity” is a new phenomenon, but women have been looking up to female figures for centuries. Think back to the last time you walked through an art museum or stood in a hallway filled with historical portraits. Picture the paintings of religious icons, queens and noblewomen, and admirable women of history. In medieval Europe, the images and stories of female saints circulated as aspirational models of courage and faith. Later, female monarchs became semi-mythic for their authority and elegance. 

As the early modern world unfolded, the shift from lineage to individual brilliance happened as women commanded attention in print or on stage. Even in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, actresses and opera singers were adored for their daring artistry and their beauty. The divine glow once reserved for icons of the church or royal family was replaced by spotlights highlighting creativity and charisma. 

Fame today, of course, isn’t all that different. Our modern stars tend to gain attention through visibility rather than virtue, but they still offer us a portrait of what it means to be a woman. 

Earlier this month, Taylor Swift released her latest album. Taylor and I grew up together—not because I knew her personally, but because she’s a-year-and-a-half older than I am, and her meteoric rise happened during my more formative years. 

Taylor isn’t a saint or a queen hanging in a museum, but in many ways she occupies that same imaginative space. Her new album has drawn praise because it promotes the pursuit of marriage and family, criticism because of explicit sexual content, and a wide range of other takes on the ways she portrays female domesticity, empowerment, and identity. 

With this recent album, I found that some of the past sparkle—the kind that originally drew many of us in our younger years—has dulled. Sin, after all, sings the same old song. It cloaks itself in novelty, glittering on the surface, but in time, it becomes clear what is not gold. 

Still we behold her. We’re interested in what she’s doing. I realized with this latest release that part of the reason is because she’s not just selling music; she’s offering commentary on what it means to be a woman. And we want to know.

Whether you’re a diehard fan or pride yourself on never having heard one of her songs, she’s an illuminated portrait in our cultural hallway. Through her life and lyrics, she offers a model, a mirror, and a measuring stick for her particular brand of femininity. The pull of her star doesn’t just ask for our attention—it asks for our alignment.

You may be thinking that you’re exempt from this. Maybe you don’t follow current celebrity culture at all. Perhaps you couldn’t name a current A-list Hollywood actor if you tried. But we all have our icons. 

Who is the woman who has captured your attention? She could be an author or Christian influencer whose Instagram stories you watch from afar, a women’s ministry leader at your church you wish you knew better, or a colleague whose confidence you can’t help but notice every time she speaks. Whose life seems brighter, bolder, and somehow touched by something beyond your reach? 

That which begins as inspiration often becomes a template. Even when you follow a woman whose faith is admirable, it’s possible to model your life more after her femininity than after the design given by God Himself. If you are beholding her rather than fixing your eyes on Him, your understanding of biblical womanhood will lack the depth He’s called you to reflect. 

Behold Rightly 

This isn’t a post about Taylor Swift, nor is it a call to distance yourself from those who inspire you. It’s about a deeper question: Where are you getting your definition of womanhood? 

We live in a time when we have greater access than ever to hear from women—including godly leaders—about what it means to live out true femininity. It’s wise to pay attention to what they have to say; after all, Scripture commends learning from those who walk faithfully and teach younger women what is good (Titus 2:3). But it’s easy to let our beliefs be shaped more by the voices we follow or the people we admire than by the eternal, unchanging Word of God (Matt. 24:35). 

Does that describe you? Consider these questions to help discern what may be shaping your understanding of womanhood: 

• If you were to create your own museum-style “Hall of Women,” filled with the faces of those who have shaped the kind of woman you aspire to be, who would be on display? 
• Would you say that your beliefs about womanhood have been formed primarily by the truth of God’s Word or by other voices?
• When you envision the kind of woman you want to become, does she resemble a cultural ideal or the character of Christ?
• When you consider what makes a woman “successful,” is your standard rooted in accomplishments or in faithfulness to God? 
• When the Bible’s vision of womanhood feels countercultural—or even uncomfortable—how do you respond? 

The more accustomed we become to the world’s views of womanhood, the more we risk missing out on the goodness of God’s design (Gen. 1:27, 31). His Word offers more than moral clarity; it reveals the beauty and stability that come from rooting our identity in truth. 

We may catch glimpses of true womanhood even in imperfect reflections, but they can’t tell the whole story. Taylor’s recent album includes elements worth noticing and even enjoying, yet they remain incomplete. Many Christians have celebrated her apparent preparation for marriage and family with her husband-to-be—and rightly so. These are good gifts, part of God’s gracious design.

Personally, I’m both happy for her and also thankful that, as a single woman, God’s pattern for femininity isn’t defined by relationship status. His calling isn’t tied to reaching certain cultural milestones, which means that women like me can still experience the fullness of womanhood as God intended (1 Cor. 7:34). 

When we fix our eyes only on cultural ideals or the examples of womanhood around us—and fail to build on the foundation of God’s Word—we miss out on so much: 

The beauty of dependence on God—flourishing not through self-sufficiency or self-definition but by abiding in Jesus (John 15:5). 

The purpose of nurturing life wherever we are, whether through motherhood, mentoring, or other forms of ministry—serving others and cultivating spiritual fruit (Titus 2:3–5). 

The power of godly influence—the kind that shapes generations through steadfast faith and gentle wisdom rather than fleeting visibility or fame (2 Tim. 1:5). 

The sweetness of submission as strength—mirroring Christ’s humility and entrusting ourselves to His perfect authority (Phil. 2:5–8). 

The freedom of grace over performance—resting in who we are in Christ rather than endlessly curating how we hope to be perceived by others (Gal. 2:20–21). 

The courage of contentment—learning to trust God’s goodness in every place, whether our roles are public or hidden, and whether our efforts are celebrated or unseen (Phil. 4:11–13). 

The wonder of being pursued by Christ rather than endlessly chasing love or validation elsewhere (John 10:27–28). 

The freedom of repentance over reinvention—knowing that true transformation comes not through crafting new versions of ourselves but through being made new by grace (Titus 3:5).

The safety of being known and loved—not just admired—by God Himself (1 John 3:1). 

The redemption of every season—knowing that in Christ nothing is wasted—not heartbreak, suffering, or obscurity. All the chapters of our lives serve an eternal story, one where God’s glory and our joy intertwine (Rom. 8:28). 

Behold the Real Beauty

Centuries from now, it’s hard to imagine future historians walking through museum halls, studying the lives of women from our time. Surely there would be portraits—selfies and social media posts—of celebrities and viral moments, capturing the priorities of our day. 

But what if the informational plaque on the wall of our era’s exhibit told a different story? Imagine it explaining that, while the female cultural icons depicted in the room set some of the trends of the time, countless more ordinary women shaped the culture by beholding God in His Word above all else. 

The plaque might highlight how their lives illustrated His eternal beauty and enduring truth—serving in unseen ways, nurturing younger generations, and creating art for God’s glory. It would tell how they shaped the culture not through the fading glimmer of personal fame, but by reflecting God’s light—leaving behind a legacy of faithfulness, wisdom, and grace that stood the test of time.