Part 2
Here's the thing people miss about Dolly Parton: her entire brand is authenticity. She didn't look like the polite, long-dress-wearing female country artists of her era. She had big hair, big boobs, and a bigger personality. She wrote her own songs. She controlled her own image. She was, in her own way, a rebel. And Miley Cyrus is the same kind of rebel. Her brand, as she put it on Late Night, is "not listening to anyone" — except Lorne Michaels. That's not a contradiction. That's a lineage.
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The Dolly Pigeon joke is the perfect illustration. When Seth Meyers asked how Dolly would deliver a fax, Miley didn't miss a beat: a pigeon with long acrylic nails, big boobs, and a blonde wig. It's funny because it's affectionate. It's funny because it's specific. And it's funny because Miley knows Dolly well enough to parody her with love, not mockery. That's not dependence. That's intimacy.
Contrast that with the typical celebrity godparent relationship. You know the type: a famous older star agrees to be a godparent, shows up to a christening, maybe sends a birthday card, and then disappears. It's transactional. It's a photo op. But Dolly and Miley have built something real over decades. They've done a Super Bowl commercial together. They've recorded music together. Dolly made Miley a demo on a cassette, then voice-memoed it onto a flip phone, then had someone transfer it to an iPhone. That's not a publicity stunt. That's a genuine, weird, wonderful friendship.
And here's the part that really dismantles the "Dolly carries Miley" myth: Miley's biggest recent success has nothing to do with Dolly at all. Her 2023 album Endless Summer Vacation spawned "Flowers," a global smash that broke streaming records and spent weeks at No. 1. It's a song about self-reliance, about not needing anyone to complete you. Dolly didn't write it. Dolly didn't sing on it. Dolly didn't even know about it until it came out. That's Miley standing on her own two feet, and she's been doing it since Bangerz in 2013 and Plastic Hearts in 2020.
So when people say Dolly is the talent and Miley is the beneficiary, they're ignoring the actual dynamic. Dolly is a legend, yes. But legends don't stay legends by accident. They stay legends because someone younger, hungrier, and just as stubborn picks up the torch and runs with it. Miley is that someone. She's not copying Dolly's moves. She's infusing herself into Dolly's music, exactly as Dolly wants. And in doing so, she's introducing a whole new generation to "Jolene," to "9 to 5," to the idea that a woman can be big-haired, big-voiced, and completely in charge of her own story.
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That's not riding coattails. That's carrying a legacy forward. And if you still think Miley is just lucky, consider this: luck doesn't get you a fax from Dolly Parton. Respect does.
The Lightning Strike and the Fax Machine: Why Miley's Career Is a Masterclass in Resilience, Not Luck
The consensus goes something like this: Miley Cyrus got lucky. She was born into fame, landed a Disney show, and then—just when her career could have faded—Dolly Parton swooped in like a rhinestone guardian angel and handed her a second act. The story writes itself: a charmed life, a famous godmother, and a series of fortunate breaks. It's a tidy narrative, and it's dead wrong.
Luck doesn't keep you on a plane that's been struck by lightning. Luck doesn't make you get back on stage after an emergency landing in the middle of South America. Luck doesn't turn a fax machine into a symbol of artistic devotion. What Miley has isn't luck—it's resilience, work ethic, and a level of intentionality that would make Dolly proud. And that's the part the consensus keeps missing.
The Lightning Strike: When the Sky Literally Falls
Let's start with the moment that should have ended the tour. In 2022, Miley was on a private plane en route to a festival in Paraguay when the aircraft was struck by lightning. The plane had to make an emergency landing in the middle of South America. The show she was flying to? It had already been flooded and canceled. The stage was sinking. Her band, a group of rock 'n' rollers, were ready to rally—'We got to get to the fans!' they said. Miley's response, as she later recounted, was essentially: 'We're in the middle of the forest in a broken-down airplane. There's floods where we're supposed to be going.'
She was scared. She cried in her mom's lap. That's not the behavior of someone who's been coasting on a famous last name. That's a human being in a terrifying situation. But here's the thing: she didn't quit. She and her crew were allowed into Brazil a few days early, took time to recuperate, and then—she went back out there. She continued the tour. She didn't cancel the rest of the dates. She didn't retreat to a mansion and never speak of it again. She got back on stage.
That's not luck. That's grit. And it's the kind of grit that doesn't show up in a headline about her godmother. It shows up in the quiet moments after the storm, when you have every excuse to walk away and you choose to keep going.
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