Ashley Roberts, 44, joined the Pussycat Dolls in 2002 and sold over 55 million records worldwide before the group split in 2010. Now a trio with Nicole Scherzinger and Kimberly Wyatt, they are on a 21-date tour. Looking back, Roberts says it was a dream come true but left them all burned out.
Early dance and determination
Roberts started dance lessons at three. Her father was a drummer, her mother a pilates instructor. At 12, her dance teachers told her mother she wasn't good enough to advance. Roberts refused to accept it. “I sat my teachers down and told them that I worked hard and that I could deliver. I held my own and they ended up agreeing with me.”
At 18, she worked three jobs in Phoenix to save $1,000, then moved to LA. She danced in adverts and music videos, including Aaron Carter's “I Want Candy”. A friend told her about the burlesque act Pussycat Dolls at the Viper Room. Too young to be in the club, she snuck in for an audition and made the cut.
The rise and toll of fame
Gwen Stefani brought Interscope head Jimmy Iovine to a show. Roberts didn't realise the magnitude until their first single “Don’t Cha” featured CeeLo Green and Busta Rhymes. “How well was I equipped for fame? Back in the 90s and 00s, nobody talked about coping skills or self-care.”
The paparazzi would shoot up their skirts and circle flaws online. “It was my dream come true, but I didn’t have time to digest it, process it, until I was on the other side.” Her body began shutting down: eczema on her legs, shingles across her face, a stomach ulcer. An acupuncturist told her, “If you don’t scream, your body’s gonna scream for you.” Wyatt first suggested a break. “It was clear we all needed to take our own paths.”
Reunion and reflection
Years later, Scherzinger proposed reuniting after finishing “Sunset Boulevard”. The trio had honest conversations to ensure alignment. “Now, even if we have a gruelling schedule, we can set boundaries, such as to eat lunch and to make sure sleep is scheduled.”
Roberts thinks back to the 12-year-old who argued her worth. In the manufactured noughties group, “certain powerful people would tell you what you should look like or how to dress, and you would agree because you didn’t want to lose the opportunity.” That took a toll on her self-esteem. She's still trying to get it back. “I’m not the same as I was back then physically. My back hurts.” But the little girl in the tutu remains her driving force. When her boyfriend asked how she feels on stage, she said, “Like I’m home. My thoughts, my fears, everything just melts away.”
