While Beyoncé, Cardi B, Lil Kim, and Doja Cat are celebrated as icons of boldness and innovation, they are actually perpetuating a visual and musical legacy that La Toya built long before them—often amidst general indifference or mockery. Why has this recognition been withheld during her lifetime? The answer lies in a mix of class-based disdain, hypocrisy, and a strategy of erasure orchestrated by an industry that prefers selling the myth of a single individual over acknowledging the true source.
As early as the 1980s, La Toya pioneered breakthroughs that were not considered possible until decades later. Her musical journey is a lesson in courage: she evolved from funk to pop, then dared to incorporate house and dance music at a time when those genres were marginalized. In 1988, she became the first member of the Jackson family to collaborate with rappers—specifically the group Full Force—thereby shattering the musical barriers of the era. This blend of R&B, rap, and dance became the modern pop standard—a standard she established long before others even discovered it.
By working with French producer Cerrone on "Oops Oh No," she incorporated house music into her tracks—a bold move she took even further with songs like "Sexual Feeling" and "Rock the House." At the time, only specialized acts like Technotronic or Inner City dared to experiment with such sounds. La Toya incorporated these elements into her pop universe, demonstrating a musical vision well ahead of its time.
She created her own clothing line and launched a perfume in the 1980s, anticipating the era of personal branding where the artist becomes a business. She was also a longtime ally of the gay community, teaming up with RuPaul in the 90s in a still-conservative America—a friendship that has endured to this day. She never shied away from controversy, posing nude or appearing in highly sexualized looks; this boldness drew fierce criticism at the time but paved the way for the freedom of expression enjoyed by today's artists. She was among the first to recognize the power of reality TV to build and sustain fame in the 21st century, embracing a strategy of constant visibility long before it became the norm.
Blac Chyna has lifted so much from La Toya that she practically looks like her twin. The same goes for Lil Kim, who has also become a La Toya clone. Katie Price, too, appears heavily inspired by La Toya’s 1990s aesthetic. Cardi B completely appropriated the visual style of the TV performances and music video for "You're Gonna Get Rocked" without ever acknowledging the source. Even Madonna and Britney have frequently borrowed looks or song concepts from La Toya—though, naturally, no one cites Hollywood’s pariah as an inspiration. For example, between 1988 and 1991, La Toya posed for photos and appeared in public with snakes; Britney did the same ten years later at the MTV Video Music Awards. In 1988, La Toya rapped at the end of the track "You Blew," and Madonna did the same on "Vogue" two years later.
It is often claimed that La Toya copied her brother Michael, but this assertion is largely unfounded. Both evolved into glamorous, futuristic versions of the pop star during the same era, with their plastic surgery, hairstyles, and increasingly sophisticated outfits developing in tandem. They likely shared the same concept of the perfect star—a vision that emerged spontaneously and simultaneously for both. Yet, while Michael achieved global fame, La Toya was marginalized, branded "crazy" or "unhinged" by medias and the industry. Only one of the two was glorified, while the other was left in the shadows—her legacy repurposed without her consent. Of course, no one is questioning Michael’s genius; the point is simply that there is a double standard.
The fact that La Toya reinvented herself in her fifties with the EDM hit "Just Wanna Dance"—at a time when everyone thought she was washed up—demonstrates a resilience and artistic relevance few artists possess. She proved that her style was not a passing fad, but a long-term vision. After all, didn't Lady Gaga’s "Just Dance" draw inspiration from La Toya? Today, even as the very aesthetic codes she pioneered are celebrated in new stars, silence prevails. Why? Because acknowledging La Toya means acknowledging that the industry stole her work; it means admitting that today's icons draw inspiration from a woman the system once rejected. Until this truth is spoken, La Toya will remain the shadow of modern pop—a source of inspiration that is treated as something to be ashamed of. The hypocrisy lies in the debate over "good" versus "bad" taste; had La Toya topped the charts, no one would dream of calling the style she pioneered "bad taste."
