Charli xcx Interview: Her Marriage, Her Wedding Details, and the Meanings Behind Her Lyrics

Charli xcx is emoting more than seems possible for someone whose eyes—in public, at least—are nearly always conveying vacant disdain or covered by sunglasses. I arrived at her Hollywood Hills home, as requested, before 8 a.m.—an inconceivable meeting time for a person who loves to go out so much that she named one song for what she expects to hear when she’s partying (“Club Classics”) and another for the number of days a year she partakes in such activities (“365”). Throughout the conversation in her poolside courtyard, Charli rests on the lounge chair in every possible permutation of repose, from elbows on knees to partial recline to supine, and then supine the other way (another Charli banger: “360”).

Charli is freshly showered, twisting her damp waves until a tumbleweed of hair falls to the ground and rolls across the patio. She is freckled (who knew Charli xcx had freckles?) and makeup-​free. (She is also bra-free, though that we have seen before.) Her ubiquitous Balenciaga and Mugler bags are elsewhere—she is wearing Bottega Veneta flats and a stomach-covering vintage T-shirt featuring three buxom women drawn by fetish artist Eric Stanton, as well as jeans by Guess, which are impossible to look at without triggering the lyrics of Charli’s song of the same name featuring Billie Eilish.

George Daniel, drummer for The 1975 and her husband of two weeks, keeps walking by with a beatific smile. Every time he does, Charli exclaims his name in excitement, as if she’s run into him somewhere she wasn’t expecting to rather than in their kitchen. “This is George,” she tells me delightedly, introducing us as he heads out for a hike with their rescue mutt, Nico, named for the singer. “Are you going to Runyon?” Charli asks about the hiking destination that is as well-trafficked in Los Angeles as the Erewhon smoothie line. No—George and Nico are headed to Bronson Caves. “Oh, cute!” Charli says. Everything to do with Daniel is cute. Soon they’ll be on a second wedding-cum-honeymoon in Italy. “It will be lovely,” Charli says. “Just eating mountains of pasta and drinking spritzes.”

George and Charli’s kitchen is open to the patio and features a truly enormous dining room table with bench seating. Taylor Marie Prendergast’s moody black-and-white art hangs on every wall, and a large easel holds a drawing of a tree that Charli sketched. The whole tableau is, right now, being blasted by morning sun from massive east-facing windows. I ask about the life events that made the purchase of this opulent home possible, and Charli openly wonders whether she can trust me enough to answer my questions.

Early hits like “Boom Clap” and “I Love It” were huge, but Charli wasn’t particularly. As she told Kareem Rahma on his interview series SubwayTakes last year before Brat came out, “Some artists have a song, but a song isn’t enough.” Charli says many friends have asked her, “You are in your 30s now—do you feel like you’re more equipped to handle this? What do you think would’ve happened if this had happened when you were 18?” But, Charli says, it kind of did happen—she was almost a plus-one to the world-famous songs she had created, which allowed her to travel and perform internationally and to engage with a kind of half version of what was to come. She was featured in publications like The Guardian and Rolling Stone, but the framing tended to focus on Charli’s permanent status in the waiting room of A-list-hood, where she was left to toil in niche brilliance. “I dipped my toe in, but I wasn’t fully in,” she says. “I think having that experience probably equipped me well for this happening.”

So now that brat is over…. Charli stops me as I put that to her. “I don’t really get to decide when it’s over or not,” she says. “I think that’s up to the world.” It will eventually exist “as a relic.” “I don’t think people will forget it,” she says. On the other hand, “It’s not fucking New Wave.”

“The end will be interesting,” Charli says. “Because then I have to look at myself in a different way and be stripped of the thing that everyone identified me with.” Whatever this post-brat version of Charli xcx is, she says, “I won’t be staring into the abyss wondering what I’m gonna do.”

At least part of what she’s gonna do is turn into a movie star. Charli has seven films coming out soon, including three that debuted at the Toronto or Venice film festivals in September. There’s Erupcja, an indie film that emerged from her friendship with playwright Jeremy O. Harris and an unplanned meeting with director Pete Ohs at Clandestino. Charli also features in the fantasy 100 Nights of Hero, starring Emma Corrin, and the eco-satire Sacrifice, with Chris Evans and Anya Taylor-Joy.

Charli will have a lead role in The Moment, distributed by A24, a revisionist history focused on the aftermath of Brat’s release in which she stars with Alexander Skarsgård. She is also writing songs for two major projects, including the Anne Hathaway–led pop idol epic Mother Mary.

But this is just the next moment. “I not only know that this won’t last forever,” Charli says. “I’m also really interested in the fact that it doesn’t.”

When I ask how much more famous she feels when she’s in the wild now, Charli drops into the face she assumes out there. The chin lowers. The eyes die in a way that is profoundly withering. (“Hedonistic with the gravel drawl and dead eyes”—“Mean Girls.”) She uses her index fingers to pull her temple skin into a vulpine angle she normally achieves with tight, hidden braids. Her hair seems to get bigger.

“Oh, my God,” I say. “That’s Charli.”

“There it is,” she says, smiling again.

“I’m always thinking about how I look and what I would change about my face,” Charli says, citing her favorite plastic surgery website RealSelf for giving her the resources to know that she can’t achieve a permanent version of the braid eye tilt with sugar threads. At some point, she says, she “probably will get” a mid-facelift. “I’m fucking thinking about all the shit that I could do and pull and stretch and morph on my face, all the time,” Charli says. “I have to just remind myself that maybe I can’t get too sucked into that.”

She recently stopped getting Botox. “I miss it,” she says mournfully. Her acting roles were what prompted the break from paralytic injectables. “I did a couple of audition tapes where I had Botox, and my eyebrows were doing that crazy thing when they kind of lift.” She drags up the outer edges to demonstrate the look, which evokes Jack Nicholson’s distinctive brows. “They look great on him,” Charli says.

The xcx persona embodied by the face is also a real facet of Charli’s life and personality that was first amplified long ago. “I see some analogy with someone like Dolly Parton, who is a performer, and you’re using that character. It is part of you, but there’s a little bit of that role-playing going on,” says Charli’s longtime collaborator A.G. Cook. At the same time, “It’s a very real version of Charli that is becoming more known,” Cook says.

Charli grew up as a multiracial “frizzy-haired” little girl in Essex, near London. She is the only child of a white British entrepreneur and a Gujarati Indian flight attendant and nurse who came to the UK after her family was expelled from Uganda by the dictator Idi Amin. Charli’s parents supported her interest in the arts by taking the teenager to perform at illegal raves. She signed a deal with Asylum/Atlantic Records in 2009, half her life ago. Of Atlantic, Charli says, “It used to be quite a turbulent relationship, and now it’s just really not.” She partially attributes the shift at the label to the fact that “they used to really not like that I was kind of a bitch, and now I guess they know it can sell.”

Charli is pleased that Atlantic does not demand she “collaborate creatively.” “I’m not open to feedback,” she says. “Like, that’s not what your job is. We can all pretend that it is, but it’s not.”

I ask if she ever does just nod along and pretend their input is valuable simply to get through the meeting. “I don’t go to the meeting,” she says. Lest this make her seem rude, Charli clarifies, “I don’t wanna make it sound like the label are idiots. They’re definitely not. But I think it’s like, everybody has their strengths, right?” The label’s role: “They’re a bank,” she says. They advance Charli money to go off, do her thing with people she actually does want to collaborate creatively with, come back, tell them what and when the rollout is, and rent the tractor loader so she and Eilish can ride through a jillion bras and panties in the “Guess” music video. At this point, Charli says, “They want to just do that. They want to support the vision.” The vision is lucrative, after all.

“We’re in a good place, and I wouldn’t swap it for anything,” Charli says, adding, “The devil you know.”

“I don’t even think my driving factor has been, ‘I wanna be the biggest pop star ever in the world,’ or anything like that,” Charli says of her career goals. “I always just wanted to make music on my own terms and have as many people listen to it as possible, which sounds really simple. But I think I’ve really struggled over the years, because I’ve never felt like I fit in. Am I supposed to be this underground left artist, or am I supposed to try and be this commercial package? And I think before Brat, I just gave up on fighting with myself on that. I really said, ‘Okay, I am going to make this record in this specific way, and I’m actually fine with the consequences of that; if it means no one hears it, if it means I get dropped by my label.’ ” As we know, the consequence was Charli becoming one of the biggest pop stars in the world.

“It’s fascinating to see how people ingest your personality and spit it back out—what people cling on to, what people miss,” Charli says.

In April 2024, less than two months before the release of Brat, Charli and Troye Sivan announced they were co-headlining the Sweat tour, a six-week North American arena run. Last spring, Sivan was the bigger artist, promoting his album Something to Give Each Other. The single “Rush” was, in Sivan’s words, “popping off.” Charli told Sivan she was anxious she would negatively impact the tour. “I was worried that people would be like, ‘Oh no, who’s this girl preventing us from hearing “Rush”?’ ” she says. “Um, and then obviously, you know, things kinda changed for me.”

On June 7, Brat debuted. On June 27, Charli made a surprise appearance at Sivan’s solo London show. He had the idea that the stage should go black, then turn the sickly color of the album cover, then Charli would appear in silhouette.

“The sound that came out of the crowd when she appeared with the wind in her hair and the Brat green background behind her…. It was a completely overwhelming response,” Sivan says. “I get chills thinking about it now.” He was thrilled as a friend but also as a fan. “I am so happy to be a part of the community of gays that have been following her for so long,” Sivan says. Charli reciprocates the devotion; she says she feels “super indebted to” her queer fans.

“She’s been our queen for a really long time,” says Sivan. “I feel very honored to get to represent the gays that have died for her for forever.”

Charli is a completist when it comes to seeking out people’s opinions about herself, from the gays that die for her to journalists. She told me she reads every bit of coverage about herself—that the social media climate affects her. She wants to know how people discuss her, how critics perceive her, what the newer listeners make of all of this. “It’s fascinating to see how people ingest your personality and spit it back out—what people cling on to, what people miss,” Charli says. “I’m always interested in, like, what does the casual viewer think? And they probably think I’m a girl who parties and does drugs and is a little bit bitchy.”

So is “365” a commentary on people’s perception of her? “No, I am saying, ‘I’m a 365 party girl,’ ” Charli says. “ ‘365’ is a song about going to a party, feeling yourself, feeling really hot, but essentially getting really crazy because you’re running away from something. Then, as the song progresses, everything gets a little wilder and more fucked up sonically as the person is getting more wild and fucked up. And by the end of it, it’s kind of sad.”

The 365 party girl is definitely not fucked up right now, just fucking exhausted. A few days ago, Charli celebrated turning 33 by the same pool we’re sitting beside. It was a sedate affair that also fêted her best friend and interior designer, Georgia May Somary, who had a birthday around the same time. Charli needed a break from all the more standard partying she’s done in the past year or so, including her 32nd birthday, attended by Eilish, Taylor-Joy, Glen Powell, Lorde, Addison Rae, and Rosalía, who brought a bouquet of Parliament cigarettes for the honoree. “It was perfect,” Charli says. “It was just one of those classically LA nights where word of mouth spreads and then people just come. I think a lot of people felt that it was performative or something, but I think maybe they were just mad they weren’t there.” Charli smirks. “What can I say? When all my friends are drunk, they like posing for photos.”

“If enough people say that it is true on the internet, it becomes the truth,” Charli says of all the misperceptions about her. I ask why she doesn’t correct the record. “You can’t,” she says—that just makes it bigger. “Fact-checking is dead,” Charli tells me, which will come as a surprise to Vanity Fair’s research department. She says doing this cover story and being vulnerable and open while imagining what, say, the Daily Mail will aggregate from it is scary, even though the theoretical concept of how information is decontextualized fascinates her. “I have a big mouth, and I say shit and sometimes it gets me in trouble,” Charli says. “You seem lovely. But were you trying to get me on your side, so I would reveal more? I don’t know.”

Charli appeared on the podcast Las Culturistas two days before Brat debuted. During the interview, she wavered about whether she would reveal who the album’s songs were about. “My thing is, people are gonna guess,” she told hosts Bowen Yang and Matt Rogers before declining to name the inspiration for “Girl, So Confusing,” about a complicated relationship with another female musician who has similar hair to Charli’s. “I think you probably both have an accurate guess,” Charli said. “It’s probably that person.” (It was Lorde, who likely would have remained anonymous if she hadn’t accepted Charli’s invitation to “work it out on the remix.”) It felt like—or at least practically functioned as—the moment when Charli decided to let Brat speak for itself. “Exactly,” Charli’s frequent collaborator Aidan Zamiri confirms of her choice to not explicate songs that dropped enough hints to be fairly explicit to fans paying close attention though remained inscrutable (but googleable) to the casual viewer who’s only aware she’s a little bit bitchy. “Charli is very instinctive about how she wants to share information, and I liked that one of the things she said about the album is that she tried to not lean into metaphor,” Zamiri says.

With the exception of the omnipresent Julia Fox (“I’m so Julia”—“360”) and Lorde, Charli has mostly left it up to the internet to imagine the truth about the subjects of her music.

A New York magazine writer tried to get Charli to discuss whether “Sympathy Is a Knife” is about Taylor Swift, as was a common interpretation of lyrics that mentioned dreading seeing someone backstage at her boyfriend’s show. (In 2023, Swift dated Daniel’s 1975 bandmate Matty Healy, who would subsequently crowd-surf at Charli and Daniel’s Italian wedding redux.) The song features a momentary fit of resentment in the chorus:

Cause I couldn’t even be her if I tried

I’m opposite, I’m on the other side

I feel all these feelings I can’t control

Oh no, don’t know why

All this sympathy is just a knife

“You do the silence game,” Charli told the magazine, refusing to acquiesce to a discussion about whether she’d thought of leaving out a particularly revealing line. “But I know that well—where you go silent and want me to talk more. But I don’t care about it being awkward. We’ll sit in silence.”

“I feel like my problem with a lot of musician documentaries is it often shows the musician coming up against some kind of opposition and eventually overcoming it to be the hero,” Charli says. “And that’s just not been my experience, you know?”

“I think I’m just quite direct and blunt,” Charli tells me when I ask about that moment and talk about how different it feels from how warm she’s been today. “I hate this phrase, but what you see is what you get with me. People think it’s all some kind of performance, but it’s not. I’m not sat here talking to you being the way that I am onstage. But I think there is a correlation in that there’s a messiness and a lack of perfection. It’s the combination of talking about those things whilst also embracing them and really struggling with them is what makes me whole. And I think that it makes me honest. You can vouch for me, I hope.”

I tell her I can’t fact-check her heart, but my impression is that Charli is incredibly sincere.

“Or I’m a psychopath,” she says, cackling.

In October, Swift released The Life of a Showgirl, featuring “Actually Romantic,” which appeared to misinterpret Charli’s song about self-doubt as a diss track, with lyrics like, “I heard you call me ‘Boring Barbie’ when the coke’s got you brave,” and, “Wrote me a song sayin’ it makes you sick to see my face.” Swift has not confirmed who “Actually Romantic” is about, beyond saying it’s someone who had a “one-sided, adversarial relationship with” her. (If you write an adversarial track about someone, is the relationship really one-sided?) Pretty much everyone immediately believed the song was about Charli; Swifties swarmed.

Since the Showgirl drop, Charli hasn’t exactly been in witness protection, popping up on the Saturday Night Live stage to support musical guest Role Model, anointing him with her signature sunglasses. The saga continues in the comments section, but so far Charli has avoided engaging directly, including in the pages of Vanity Fair. She declined to comment on the situation.

Last September, in the middle of the Sweat tour and right before the Brat 2024 Arena Tour, Charli sent Zamiri a message; or, as he describes it, “word vomit.” Zamiri had worked with Charli directing the “Guess” and “360” videos, the latter featuring an It girl theme embodied by guest stars including Fox, YouTube star Emma Chamberlain, model (and Healy’s fiancée) Gabbriette, actors Hari Nef and Rachel Sennott, and proto It girl Chloë Sevigny. “It almost felt like a diary entry of, ‘This is how I feel right now,’ ” Zamiri says of Charli’s message. “This feeling of having just almost got everything she could have wanted, and what that felt like on kind of a human level.”

The document became the genesis for The Moment. Zamiri and Bertie Brandes finished the screenplay in a few months with input from Charli, and Zamiri filmed it last spring. “I really don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who works as hard as Charli does,” Sivan says, noting that in between Sweat dates, Charli would take on roles in movies, including Gregg Araki’s I Want Your Sex, in which Araki says Charli does a “top-notch” American accent and nailed a scene in which “she’s faking an orgasm with Cooper Hoffman’s character.” What was Sivan doing during his downtime? “Resting,” he says.

One project Charli turned down during this period was a tour documentary. She felt the market was already saturated with similar projects and says, “I feel like my problem with a lot of musician documentaries is it often shows the musician coming up against some kind of opposition and eventually overcoming it to be the hero. And that’s just not been my experience, you know? Maybe it has been a lot of other people’s, and that’s awesome.”

Charli calls The Moment “a 2024 period piece.” “It’s not a tour documentary or a concert film in any way, but the seed of the idea was conceived from this idea of being pressured to make one,” she says. “It’s fiction, but it’s the realest depiction of the music industry that I’ve ever seen.”

Alexander Skarsgård, who stars in Charli’s forthcoming film The Moment, was blown away by her stage persona. “The second she steps offstage, she sheds that part of her personality,” he says. “Then she’s back to being this sweet little Charli.”

Asked to describe his role, Skarsgård says he plays someone whom “the record label convinces Charli is the hottest director out there at the moment; the right person to capture the essence of Charli xcx and get the most out of this phenomenon that brat was.”

Director Zamiri calls Skarsgård’s character “one of the villains or antagonists of the film.” (Charli herself may be another one; she describes her role as “sort of a hell version of myself.”) Zamiri is cagier about the plot, saying only that the film explores what would have happened if Charli had made “entirely different choices” around brat. (As far as we know, in this counterfactual, Charli’s viral X post “kamala IS brat” still does not make Harris win the presidential election against Donald Trump. At least, as Charli told Zane Lowe, she’s “obviously happy to be on the right side of history.”)

The Moment features a score by Cook. Skarsgård did not reveal to Charli until after they’d wrapped that she was his second most-played artist on Spotify in 2024. (The first was a Japanese pop star from the 1970s and ’80s named Eiichi Ohtaki, which Skarsgård concedes is a very brat choice.) He has just seen Charli perform for the first time at a music festival in Gothenburg, Sweden, a few days before we speak and says, “I got to see the snippets of that when we shot the movie. But the other night when I got to see the full show, it was really remarkable how the second she steps offstage, she sheds that part of her personality. Then she’s back to being this sweet little Charli.”

Charli views making The Moment as an almost therapeutic exercise. “I always find it hard to sit down and look at things with distance, because I am always moving on to the next thing,” she says. “I think that I process myself through my work. I’m writing about myself and my thoughts all the time, and my thoughts about what people think about me.” Charli gestures toward infinity with a Queen Elizabeth wave. “The meta-ness continues.”

The obvious follow-up to Brat would have been to make more music, as Charli had done after her previous five studio albums—especially now that there was the option that, as she says, “You could just do more of that thing because now that’s what people see you as. You’ve solidified this brand that people seem to understand and want to digest very easily.” That was not particularly inspiring to Charli. And also, as she’d word-vomited to Zamiri, she’d basically gotten everything she wanted.

“Did I need everyone’s validation to feel that way?” Charli asks of her secondhand self-acceptance. “I guess I probably did, and that’s probably why I am an artist. But I think once I had that experience, that’s reward enough for me to feel satisfied in that area for a while.” Twenty minutes later, her zen has evaporated somewhat. “I don’t think one day I’m gonna wake up and be like, ‘I feel confident, and I’m done with feeling anything else other than confidence,’ ” Charli says. “Some days I feel totally destroyed and completely in the depths of misery. But I also need the high contrast to be able to create anything. If I was happy all the time, I probably wouldn’t be making art.”

While Charli says she doesn’t know if or when she’ll release another album, she’s already been working on more music, albeit for a fictional character. She and Jack Antonoff wrote songs for Mother Mary, the David Lowery film in which Anne Hathaway plays a famous musician. “We were making music that I don’t think I would ever make for my artist project”—songs for Charli xcx—“but still music that I truly love.”

In addition to contributing music for Hathaway’s character, Charli told her (at her request) what being a pop star is like. She was “so generous sharing her experiences,” Hathaway says. “It was like chatting with a girlfriend.”

“She was the opposite of aloof,” Hathaway says. “I was delighted at how friendly and real she was. Her talent is one that’s easily underappreciated because the end result feels so fun and achievable, but it’s actually a stunningly rare feat.”

As Charli revises history in The Moment, a major difference between the film and real life is that there is no George Daniel character.

Overcompensating creator and star Benito Skinner met Charli at a party at Cara Delevingne’s house. He and his boyfriend Terry O’Connor, who subsequently collaborated with Charli on the look and rollout of Brat (and the Kamala Harris post), became close with her and Daniel. “If you don’t believe in love or straight relationships, which I usually don’t, I believe in this one,” Skinner says. Before a 1975 show at Hollywood Bowl, Charli got glam to be in the audience because, she told Skinner, “I’m hot girlfriend tonight.” At Coachella, Skinner stood with Daniel while Charli performed. “I just watched him watch her,” Skinner says. “It was so sweet. He just had his Aperol spritz, and that’s his queen.”

Charli and Daniel got married in London’s Hackney district in late July. The planning wasn’t painstaking; they just happened to have time in their schedules and made it work. Charli didn’t get her Vivienne Westwood dress until five days before the ceremony.

“It’s cool to be married,” Charli says in a tone that would also be appropriate for talking about an interestingly shaped rock. “I never really saw it for myself, to be honest.” Her own parents didn’t wed until she was 16. “I think one day they were, like, feeling it,” she says. “And I think that’s so sweet.”

“It was cool to feel so in love, and do it our way,” Charli says, now ceding a bit of gushiness to her husband. “We both kind of just wanted to not feel the pressures of the things you’re supposed to feel when you get married.”

Charli did not want to feel, she says, like “this is the day of your life as a woman. I’m like, it’s actually just another cool day.” They woke up, had breakfast at Allpress in Dalston, “and then we just went and did it,” Charli says. “It was cute. He’s the best.” While she does not mention his less flattering angles—and, based on everyone I talked with, he doesn’t seem to have many—Charli says, “He really understands who I am at my best and at my worst.”

“When he’s deep within making a 1975 record and needs perspective, we can talk about it, and vice versa,” Charli says. “It feels very calming to have that. Sometimes, you have to really grapple with fear and expectation and it being over.”

When I talk to Charli a few weeks later, right after the Brat tour is over, she has already moved on to the next thing, which she acknowledges “is probably some kind of a protection defense mechanism from having to sit and feel the empty space of the silence between creative projects.”

Charli launches into describing her next enterprise: writing songs for Emerald Fennell’s adaptation of Wuthering Heights, starring Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi. “That’s the world I’ve been living in,” Charli says. Despite the internet’s apparent horror at the idea that the film might feature pop music anachronistic to the largely 18th-century setting—someone posted that it was like the “matcha dubai chocolate labubu of film”—she tells me it’s an “elegant and brutal sound palette…. It couldn’t be more different from Brat.”

The end of that sentence could apply to Charli’s entire shift to film, which has bled even into her social media. In addition to her many acting roles, Charli has cultivated an amusing cinephilic presence on the movie review site Letterboxd under the handle itscharlibb, where she chronicles her personal consumption and, occasionally, the status of her projects. (Sample review, of Joel Coen’s The Tragedy of Macbeth: “watched this whilst george built lego .”)

“I saw the film Phantom Thread,” Charli says of the Paul Thomas Anderson film about the self-inflicted tortures of being an artistic genius. The main character, played by Daniel Day-Lewis, only steps away from his work when he’s sick, so his wife deliberately gives him toxic mushrooms so he can take breaks and they have time to connect. (It’s actually a really nice relationship.) “I was like, ‘Oh, my God, that’s so me,’ ” Charli says. “When I get sick, George nurses me back to health, and that’s when I feel calm.” She adds, “But he doesn’t poison me.” (There’s no way for me to fact-check!) Charli says she can only rest when her body shuts down and tells her, “No, Charli, you must stop.” “Life’s so short,” she says. “There’s so much I want to do. I want to just constantly be doing it.”

Photographed exclusively for VF by Aidan Zamiri in Los Angeles. Sittings Editor Max Ortega. Hair products by Bumble and Bumble. Makeup products by H&M Beauty. Nail enamel by Chanel Le Vernis. Hair, Matt Benns (Charli xcx, Daniel, Zamiri); makeup, Raoul Alejandre (Charli xcx); manicures, Stephanie Stone (Charli xcx, Daniel); grooming, Raoul Alejandre (Daniel, Zamiri); tailor, Hasmik Kourinian; set design, BG Porter. Produced on location by Object & Animal. For details, go to VF.com/credits.

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