For Lana Del Rey, white America is an ethnic concept, and she’s anthropologist at its best. While the soapy content of her previous albums celebrates an eerie myth of American artifacts – cigarettes, Mustangs, old Hollywood disappointments – “White Dress” is a much more rhetorical dispatch than reality. Her ballad as a 19-year-old waitress in Orlando – serving people perhaps less than quail and mint jelly and more like Western omelette and Sysco-muffin – makes this song becomes a version of Del Rey with a strange update, but still quite the Del Rey as we know it: super mundane and forever out of date. Whenever her vape hits the track’s maudlin bridge, I think American Studies scholars won’t want to include her in the syllables to come.