In just three short years, Héloïse Letissier – better known as Chris from Christine and the Queens – has transformed from critically acclaimed musician to a bona-fide icon-in-the-making. This is the story of how refusing to be anything other than herself made 2019 her biggest year yet.

Héloïse Letissier does not want you to call her a role model.

Since her first album, Chaleur Humaine, became the UK’s biggest-selling debut of 2016, she has been nominated for two Brit Awards, performed with Sir Elton John and Madonna, counts Sir Michael Caine as a fan and played out the season finale of RuPaul’s Drag Race (while harbouring a secret crush on drag queen Sharon Needles).

Few musicians have enjoyed such mainstream success while so openly and authentically putting two fingers up at the straight, sexualised, male-gaze-dominated world of pop. Yet still, Letissier does not want you to call her a role model.

It’s four in the afternoon, after a five-hour shoot that has seen her transform in front of the camera from a delightfully goofy, 4ft 11in girl-next-door into a break-dancer, belly dancer and – at one point – a Saturday Night Fever-esque disco queen. Laughing with the crew in between shots, every move in front of the camera is a masterclass in self-expression.

“You deserve to be yourself,” she asserts as we sit down to chat in the now-deserted canteen above our studio in Paris. It’s a rally cry that sounds so simple, but it’s the challenge of doing exactly this that has not only shaped her career but made her the role model she shies away from being.

“I have always been wary of that title,” she says almost fearfully, wrinkling her nose. For her, she explains, the pressure of those words is almost menacing. Instead, she prefers to be seen as “a hint of something” new. “Some artists were a hint for me. When I was really young, I saw Life On Mars by David Bowie and realised that maybe there are ways to be in the world that are different. I like that idea way more than being a role model. I’m afraid of role models.” But try as she might, it’s hard to deny she is one.

When Letissier first defined her sexuality to the French media in 2014 not as bi, gay or straight but as pansexual, she says “it was like a detonation. When your sexuality is not the norm, you have to find words to express it. Sometimes I was made to feel dirty, or like it was obscene. It’s just a sexual orientation – there’s nothing perverse about that. Just being young, sexually active and proud of your sexuality is a problem for women. You’re a ‘slut’, so you’re shamed… ‘Christine’ was born out of feeling frustrated that people would say no to me because I was a woman. She was this anger. Christine was a fantasy of escaping that.”

Fleeing “the worst f*cking heartbreak I ever had”, Letissier escaped from Paris to London in her early twenties. The refuge she found was a troupe of no-nonsense drag queens, in Soho’s now-closed Madame JoJo’s, who helped repair her. Over the course of a few weeks, “Christine and the Queens” was born, becoming her coat of armour. Now, three years on, Christine has evolved into Chris. “Me and Chris are completely intertwined now. It’s a gesture of allowing myself to become who I want to be. Chris is me. I was just afraid to be it before.”

"Sometimes I was made to feel dirty, or like my sexuality was obscene"

Funny, easy-going and self-deprecating, being who she wants to be seems to be working out pretty damn well, from the outside. But, despite the veneer of contentment, the dark side of fame remains an ever-looming spectre in her life.

Bullied at school for being “a funny little thing reading a lot of books talking about gender politics”, Chris finds the cliquey world of celebrity parties uncomfortably familiar at times. “I see people with their phones out, checking who’s the next most famous person to hang out with. To me, it feels like high school all over again.” Even when it comes to her talent, and songwriting and recording abilities, that notion of being an outsider lingers. “At one point I did a studio session with Mark Ronson, but I had a panic attack,” she recalls. “I was like, ‘I’m not worthy of that. He’s going to think I’m so stupid.’” She finished the session early, the pressure getting the better of her. “We should do it again – see if I’m in a better place,” she laughs. “I’m so shy. Sometimes I panic.” Yes, even best-selling pop stars grapple with the same imposter syndrome and anxieties that dog all of us in the middle of the night.

It’s easy to see how phoenixing from shy Letissier into the badass Christine or Chris could be freeing, but even here – in the persona she has chosen and made entirely her own – she is cautious. Talking about finding love under the fierce hot light that fame brings, she, true to form, tells it exactly how it is. “I will never know if someone really digs me or not. I remember watching a documentary – In Bed With Madonna – and was fascinated by the immense loneliness of the figure that is Madonna. Is that my destiny?” The question hangs between us for a second. “There is an element of loneliness that comes along with being exposed because people can’t always understand

what you’re going through.”

"The celebrity world feels like high school all over again"

Always teetering on the edge of possible heartbreak and grand, earth-shattering Romance with a capital “R”, it’s clear that love fuels her both professionally and personally. “I read too many books. Jane Eyre shaped my love life. It had to be extreme. I was like, ‘Do you want to be my Rochester?’ They’d be like, ‘Chill out!’” she says, laughing. So what does her own epic love story look like? "I have love stories no matter the gender. It’s neither identifying as lesbian or bisexual. I’m really pansexual." Tonight, she says, with a bit of mischief in her voice, she’s “going home to figure out if I’m single or not. I have boyfriend drama. I’m exhausted.”

While Chris’s sexuality, gender identity and refusal to be defined has created hurdles at every turn, queer culture has simultaneously become more mainstream and commercialised than ever. So how, then, does she feel about people like Taylor Swift filling their music videos with a whole roster of LGBTQ+ stars (Swift’s You Need To Calm Down included Queer Eye’s Fab Five, among others) – and about the backlash that followed it? “I’m conflicted,” she says, her smile fading for the first time that day. “I guess somewhere, young gay men might watch that Taylor Swift video and feel a sense of relief. Five years on [since she entered the industry] and you can tell that being queer has been glossed out as this super-fancy accessory. You can tell that the queer aesthetic is being used to sell things. The mainstream needs that life because it’s so vibrant. But I think the core of the queer aesthetic cannot be sold.”

It’s something she has even been challenged on herself. “When I changed my name from Christine to Chris on the second album, some people said, ‘That’s a cool marketing thing you did.’ It was so painful. I’ve been singing iT [an early song, which she’s said is about “wanting to have a dick in order to have an easy life”] for the past five years. It’s never been marketing for me. It’s about jumping into the unknown and saying things loudly,” she says.

With every word she utters and every stage she headlines, Chris is doing exactly that – proudly, loudly being her true self, whatever the cost. It’s why artists like her and their refusal to be just one thing – their constant movement – are so necessary in the fight to stop the needless pigeonholing of people. And maybe, just maybe, create a more understanding society. The best place to start? By accepting ourselves. “You have to allow yourself to be that person you crave to be so much. It may involve losing people – I did. But you have to live the life you were meant to live.” She might not want to be our role model, but she sure as hell does sound like the one we all need right now.

