This story was originally published in 2018, although it feels extra-relevant today since former Danity Kane singer Aubrey O'Day is the butt of the news cycle again following a small scandal four years ago that placed her as Donald Trump, Jr.'s alleged “other woman.” This time, the headlines are less salacious and more peculiar: after announcing last July that she’d be leaving the U.S. to “start a new life,” her Instagram feed has been filled with photos of O'Day doing highly dramatic things in exotic locales including Bali and Santorini, although each one appears to be blatantly Photoshopped.
The fact that the singer possibly inserted herself into other people's photos—or maybe just stock vacation backgrounds— wasn't lost on TikTok, with a user named Sophie making a skeptical video (that's since been deleted) about O'Day's whereabouts. “She either just steals content from other content creators or Photoshops herself into random promotional images with these very inspirational Instagram captions," Sophie, who runs @residualdata, said. “In an era where social comparison is so high and has real effects, why are we doing this?”
Why indeed, although that question hasn't been answered by O'Day. Instead, she briefly made her IG private before posting the mother of all Photoshopped destinations, a mystical place known as heaven. “Took the PJ to Heaven in the last 24.. wanted to share with y’all how beautiful it was,” O’Day captioned the OTT photos, adding that she “also ran into Jesus and we hugged it out” before alleging Mr. Christ had some pretty raunchy advice for the “lil bird on TikTok."
O'Day also told her haters a thing or two about how she hustles, writing “I do all of my creative from my music to my flicks.. everything from my hair, glam, nails, styling, backdrops, editing, shooting, & the weather isn’t always perfect when I shoot, and I vacation alone.. I don’t need to be flown places. Let alone the fact that a lot of the shots I give y’all are in places you have to spend hours scaling mountains to get to. Respect my aesthetic, I work hard to give y’all beautiful content that feels the way the places I travel vibrate.”
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So that's that for now! O'Day will presumably continue to travel and scale palm trees in some of earth's most intriguing locations (and maybe even a few outside the confines of our precious planet.!!) Do you, Aubrey.
And you, reader: Come for the Photoshop shenanigans and stay for the O'Day backstory on the original It girl of Making the Band, below.
Original story: In 2004 I bought a pair of baggy orange cargo pants. Not because I liked them, exactly, but because Aubrey O'Day lived in them while she was murdering the choreo on Making the Band, and—I say this with no trepidation—I wanted to be her. Is it weird to classify myself as an Aubrey O'Day fan? Can that particular breed of "celebrity"—reality show pot stirrer turned pop singer turned personality you'd expect to see at an opening of Millions of Milkshakes even have fans?
Maybe fan isn't the correct word, but since the moment I started watching O'Day on the MTV reality show 14 years ago, I've developed a personal, oddly enduring interest in her, which is why I'm equal parts bummed and captivated she's found her way into the trending news cycle for an alleged affair with Donald Trump Jr. But maybe not surprised.
From the first episode of season three of Making the Band, it was clear she had that thing; that intangible It Factor people are always referring to. The series featured dozens of pretty and talented young women vying for a spot in a Sean "Diddy" Combs' girl group, but I couldn't look away from the tan one with the aggressive blond highlights, ridiculously flat abs, and impressive collection of crop tops. Diddy couldn't either—at one point while watching her dance, he asked if she "hung around black people" because she moved like it; a compliment coming from him.
She was cool, stereotypically hot, supremely confident—everything I wanted to be, especially at that point in my life which included first job, first apartment, and first experience with dating an asshole who would openly and frequently gawk at girls that looked like O'Day in front of me. But instead of resenting her, I became invested in her. I bought a bunch of hip-hop fitness DVDs, a one-piece bathing suit with side cutouts I'd wear with baggy cargos (my abs weren't up to crop-top status), and toyed with the idea of getting hair extensions. The year was 2004, and sporty-cheesy-sexy was the dream.
From her first audition for Diddy, it was a given that Aubrey was going to win the show. And although she did so with four other talented women, there was no question she was trying to be the Diana, the Gwen, the Fergie, the Camila, the Beyoncé of the group that went on to become Danity Kane (purveyor of undisputed bangers including "Damaged" and "Showstopper"). The one who usually stood in the middle during photo ops, the one who made the other girls look like her backup dancers onstage. She even left the band like a star: In 2008 Diddy gave her the boot himself, citing the age-old fame-to-head scenario. ("Your attitude is gonna have you in a dark and lonely place…. What you need to do, at the end of the day, is humble yourself.")
It's here that O'Day's real story begins, the one that seems made for TMZ, or at the very least Radar Online. After Danity Kane, she debuted an enhanced new look and leaned into reality TV—she starred in her own Oxygen show, All About Aubrey, and appeared on Celebrity Big Brother, Marriage Boot Camp, and Famously Single. She dated Jersey Shore star Pauly D. She turned up on hundreds of middling red carpets, boobs blazing, pastel-dyed puppies in tow.
She also appeared on Celebrity Apprentice in 2012.
Earlier this week reports starting surfacing online that claimed O'Day, now 34, had an affair with Donald Trump Jr. after meeting on the set of the reality show in 2011, although he was married and expecting baby number three. “When it started, they were very serious all of a sudden,” a source told Us Weekly. “He told her it was over with his wife, that they were separated and he didn’t love her—all of that stuff…. Aubrey fell for him hard. She thought they were going to be together for real.”
Adding fuel to the fire: A clip that surfaced on Twitter showing O'Day proclaiming on the record that she'd had a "very big crush" on Junior, and renewed interest in two of her solo songs that appear to be uncannily about the President's firstborn. "DJT" features a phone call between Aubrey and a man, with her asking, "You want to believe that everything with me was a lie? A fantasy?" and him replying, "I'll always want you and always wonder about it, but it doesn't matter because I have to stay here," and a remixed version of Gotye's "Somebody That I Used to Know," which kicks off with this opening line: "Now and then I think of when we were together, like when you told me that your marriage was a lie."
The court of public opinion, predictably, has been out for blood, with Twitter calling O'Day a "homewrecker," a "thirsty bitch," and a "ho." According to TMZ, sources close to the singer say she did have a sexual relationship with Trump Jr., but not until the show was done filming, and he'd told her his marriage had fallen apart and he planned to leave his wife, Vanessa. The affair reportedly ended when Donald Trump Sr. told his son to "knock it off" with Aubrey and try to make his marriage work (which, LOL x 100.)
This is a story that should—and, in any other circumstance, would—be filed away in the cliché canon after a few juicy headlines, except now the man is the son of the President of the United States, and that casts a tricky shadow on O'Day. This isn't just petty gossip about a couple of washed-up reality stars; it's a prurient plot line in an already massively fucked-up narrative.
I wonder what will happen to O'Day—a sit-down with Savannah? A Wednesday-night shotski with Andy? A book deal? A New York Times op-ed? A Danity Kane reunion concern? (Please though?)
I started watching old YouTube videos of Making the Band today, and I found myself feeling remarkably sad and nostalgic. I understand how the hot girl with the hot moves got here—if you can't have fame, you settle for infamy—but it stills feels kind of tragic that, 14 years after I C-walked around my apartment in orange cargo pants, O'Day is as famous as she'd probably wanted, for reasons she probably didn't. But, because I've been clicking on her for over a decade, I keep clicking.
