Stephanie Vander Wel, Associate Professor of Music, University at Buffalo
Originally published by The Conversation on August 28, 2026. Republished under Creative Commons BY-ND 4.0; no edits to the article text.
Of all the moments that capture Dolly Parton’s musical talents, fierce intelligence and driving ambition, I often find myself thinking back to an awkward, ad-libbed live television duet on “The Porter Wagoner Show.”
The year was 1973. Parton had been performing alongside Wagoner on the syndicated variety show since 1967. Though this had been her big break in Nashville, Parton was feeling confined by playing second fiddle to Wagoner, who, as her producer, often took control of the musical arrangements of her songs. Despite Parton’s commercial success, he was often dismissive of her creative vision.
Turning the tables
Parton, who died on Aug. 25, 2026, didn’t simply tell jokes for cheap chuckles.
In my work as a scholar of country music, I’ve written about how female country artists from the mid-20th century to the 2010s deployed humor to elbow their way into an industry that has often been hostile to women.
Throughout the genre’s history, female country artists could be treated as window dressing for the male main attractions. And when women did achieve success, the industry could be quick to portray them as climbers who abandoned their country roots in pursuit of pop stardom.
Women also traditionally have had a harder time getting recording contracts and radio airplay. As recently as 2015, radio consultant Keith Hill controversially said that country stations should play mostly male artists, describing men as the “lettuce” and women as the “tomatoes” in a salad.
One way female artists fought back? By using humor to upend expectations about how women should behave.
In Lulu Belle’s comedic take on marriage in her 1939 song “I Wish I Was a Single Girl Again,” she plays the part of the female rube. By assuming the caricature of female hillbilly, she was able to do or say things that a conventionally respectable female character couldn’t.
Similarly, June Carter often played the unruly country girl who aimed her punchlines at male hosts and duet partners, including Johnny Cash. And in the uproarious “Got My Name Changed Back,” the contemporary trio Pistol Annies use humor to turn the pain of divorce into a celebration of female empowerment.
But few have ever wielded humor as deftly as Parton. She used quick-witted retorts and self-deprecating jokes as weapons to disarm audiences and shine a spotlight on double standards and gendered biases.
She often did this by making men the butt of her jokes.
Take two of Parton’s first commercial hits: “Dumb Blonde,” written by Curly Putman, and her self-penned “Something Fishy.”
In “Dumb Blonde,” Parton tells the story of a cheating man who, upon being confronted, angrily accuses her of being a “dumb blonde.” After announcing that “this dumb blonde ain’t nobody’s fool,” the song’s narrator triumphantly declares, “If there’s one thing this blonde has learned, blondes have more fun,” before walking away from the relationship on her own terms.
“Something Fishy” is another song about a cheater. Parton’s lyrics contrast the man’s thin lies about “going on fishing trips” with her suspicion of his infidelities.
“Something fishy is going on,” she says wryly, playing up the pun. The audience is in on the mockery of this dim-witted man, whose astute wife can see right through him.
Dolly’s world
In the same way that Parton took the spotlight from Wagoner during that televised duet in 1973 – and makes it clear who’s in control and who isn’t – Parton also took control of the narrative of her career. When critics questioned her commitment to country, she demonstrated that popular stardom and country authenticity were not mutually exclusive. When they condemned her ambition, she made no apologies for wanting more. When they tried to ridicule her look, she owned her Dolly image by means of her wit.
As Parton would often say, “It costs a lot of money to look this cheap.”
There’s so much in that line. For one, it’s hilarious. But it also signals that she intentionally crafted her campy persona, and that her calculated appearance also contributed to her wild success.
That was Dolly: self-deprecating, self-aware, self-assured and, yes – wickedly funny.
Stephanie Vander Wel does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons BY-ND 4.0 license. Read the original article at The Conversation.
A WeFlamenco Note: Dolly’s Flamenco Connection
Dolly Parton’s connection to flamenco is more than an editorial association. In 2018, Dollywood’s Festival of Nations featured The Flamenco Kings starring Los Vivancos, the internationally touring Spanish ensemble known for bringing flamenco into conversation with ballet, contemporary dance, martial arts and theatrical spectacle. The engagement was part of what Dollywood announced as the largest entertainment investment in the park’s history at the time.
That encounter makes Parton a particularly fitting subject for Confluencias: stories about artists, ideas and cultural forces that move across genres and traditions. Her career was rooted in country music, but the world she built around it repeatedly opened onto other forms of music, dance and performance—including flamenco.
— WeFlamenco Editorial
