The Queen of Disco
Donna Summer is the undisputed Queen of Disco—no one else comes close. Her impact is immense: her voice, her story, and the legacy she brought to the world are unforgettable.
The magic of Donna Summer lies in how her music transcends boundaries. No matter your background or musical taste, everyone finds a connection to her sound. It’s like a universal language. Her lyrics, her beats, her vibe. She created something timeless that bridges genres and unites people. Her music is a love language, unmatched and unparalleled.
For this special Noah x Donna Summer collaboration, we traveled to Los Angeles to photograph her daughters, Brooklyn and Amanda. During the shoot, Noah co-founder Estelle Bailey-Babenzien had the opportunity to sit down with the two to discuss what it was like being Donna’s daughters, their experiences of motherhood, and how being Donna’s daughter shaped their perspectives and approach to life.
Did you ever feel any kind of responsibility to carry on the legacy? Not necessarily the legacy of show business, but more broadly. I lost my mom too, so I feel like I’m passing on a lot of her lessons—both the good and the bad—to my child. My mom used to say, “You need to learn from my lessons and my mistakes.” Do you ever feel pressured to continue your mom’s legacy, or is it something you naturally want to carry forward through your own motherhood?
Brooklyn: Well, last year we released a documentary about my mom, which I co-directed. That was a really significant moment for me and for our family because it was the first time we publicly shared, “This is who we believe she was.” We had never really done that before as a family, and coming together for it felt so meaningful.
A big part of why I wanted to do it was because of my own children—they never got the chance to know her. Working on the documentary, stepping back, and looking at her life from a more objective perspective helped me understand so much more about her. I uncovered layers I didn’t even expect to find. Through that process, I also realized how much of her I’ve already internalized and how much of her is reflected in the things I do. Like we talked about earlier, it’s just in me—it’s who I am.
I definitely feel a sense of responsibility. We’ve been given so much in this life. I feel like we had the best mom—not a perfect mom, because she was a very complex person—but she gave us so much richness in life. That’s something I hope to pass on to my child. Beyond that, I want to honor her by sharing that same richness and love with others—not just with our children, but with anyone I encounter. I know it sounds super cheesy, but it’s about paying that love forward to every person you meet and spreading the richness she gave to us.
She was always championing others. If she saw a gift or talent in someone, no matter who they were, she’d be the first to say, “Oh, you need to pursue this.” She would offer unsolicited advice sometimes, but it always came from a place of encouragement. She had this incredible ability to see the potential in people and champion them to become their fullest, most authentic selves.
Amanda: I think, like Brooklyn said, my mom wasn’t perfect—she was very complex. But when I try to distill her essence, removing the childhood trauma and the overwhelming parts of her life, I see someone extraordinary. It was overwhelming for her to go from being a sheltered schoolgirl to suddenly being in Germany, having a hit single that exploded everywhere, and dealing with an image that wasn’t necessarily how she wanted to present herself. But when you strip all of that away, at her core, she was so much fun. She loved making memories, bringing people together, and connecting with others. I think that joy and connection come through in her music, but it was just as present in her everyday life.
For me, carrying on her legacy doesn’t feel like pressure—it’s a joy. When I think of her, in my mind’s eye, I imagine her here right now, cheering me on and saying, “Good job, Gracie girl! You’re doing amazing.” She’d be hyping us up, full of love and encouragement. My daughter’s name is Luna Bird, after my mom—I used to call her Mommy Bird. It’s my way of keeping that connection alive.
She was always championing others. If she saw a gift or talent in someone, no matter who they were, she’d be the first to say, “Oh, you need to pursue this.” She would offer unsolicited advice sometimes, but it always came from a place of encouragement. She had this incredible ability to see the potential in people and champion them to become their fullest, most authentic selves.
Okay, first question—I’m sure you’ve been asked this countless times, and I know it might be a little annoying, but what was it like growing up with Donna Summer as your mother?
Brooklyn: I always like to ask, "Did you have a mom you liked?" Because it was kind of like that for us. She was just Mom. We were somewhat shielded from all the fanfare. During our formative years, we lived on a small farm outside of LA, so it was just Mom in the kitchen, Mom painting in the backyard, and us constantly getting in her way.
Amanda: Occasionally, we’d go to a show and watch her perform from the audience. We’d see everyone screaming and shouting, and we’d be right there with them—screaming, shouting, and dancing along. But for us, it felt normal. I don’t think, at a young age, you have a frame of reference for what’s “different.” That’s just your life. It’s only as you get a little older, into those tween years, that you start to realize, “Oh, okay, our life is a bit different from our friends’ parents’ lives.”
Was that inspiring for you? Were you like, "Wow, my mom’s amazing," and did you feel proud? Or did you feel...?
Brooklyn: think as we got older—especially in those middle school years when you start wondering, “What do I want to do with my life?”—you begin to look around at the people in your life. At that point, it really hit me: my mom kind of did it all. She was so creative. Of course, music was a huge part of who she was and what everyone knew her for, but we also saw her design clothes, decorate the house, make incredible food, throw amazing parties, and just be endlessly creative. She did all of that while keeping family and community at the center of everything. That was the truly inspiring part—watching her build the life she wanted and showing us that we could do the same.
Amanda: I was just going to add that her creativity wasn’t confined to any one thing—it flowed into everything she did. Whatever she was working on, she was creating or making it more beautiful, making it taste better, or turning it into a special moment. Now, as a mother myself, I see how much that’s shaped me. I’m constantly doing the same—everything feels like an act of creation. That’s just the environment we were raised in. It wasn’t something separate or just “work”; it was simply how we lived life.
Okay, first question—I’m sure you’ve been asked this countless times, and I know it might be a little annoying, but what was it like growing up with Donna Summer as your mother?
Brooklyn: I always like to ask, "Did you have a mom you liked?" Because it was kind of like that for us. She was just Mom. We were somewhat shielded from all the fanfare. During our formative years, we lived on a small farm outside of LA, so it was just Mom in the kitchen, Mom painting in the backyard, and us constantly getting in her way.
Amanda: Occasionally, we’d go to a show and watch her perform from the audience. We’d see everyone screaming and shouting, and we’d be right there with them—screaming, shouting, and dancing along. But for us, it felt normal. I don’t think, at a young age, you have a frame of reference for what’s “different.” That’s just your life. It’s only as you get a little older, into those tween years, that you start to realize, “Oh, okay, our life is a bit different from our friends’ parents’ lives.”
Was that inspiring for you? Were you like, "Wow, my mom’s amazing," and did you feel proud? Or did you feel...?
Brooklyn: think as we got older—especially in those middle school years when you start wondering, “What do I want to do with my life?”—you begin to look around at the people in your life. At that point, it really hit me: my mom kind of did it all. She was so creative. Of course, music was a huge part of who she was and what everyone knew her for, but we also saw her design clothes, decorate the house, make incredible food, throw amazing parties, and just be endlessly creative. She did all of that while keeping family and community at the center of everything. That was the truly inspiring part—watching her build the life she wanted and showing us that we could do the same.
Amanda: I was just going to add that her creativity wasn’t confined to any one thing—it flowed into everything she did. Whatever she was working on, she was creating or making it more beautiful, making it taste better, or turning it into a special moment. Now, as a mother myself, I see how much that’s shaped me. I’m constantly doing the same—everything feels like an act of creation. That’s just the environment we were raised in. It wasn’t something separate or just “work”; it was simply how we lived life.
Did you ever feel any kind of responsibility to carry on the legacy? Not necessarily the legacy of show business, but more broadly. I lost my mom too, so I feel like I’m passing on a lot of her lessons—both the good and the bad—to my child. My mom used to say, “You need to learn from my lessons and my mistakes.” Do you ever feel pressured to continue your mom’s legacy, or is it something you naturally want to carry forward through your own motherhood?
Brooklyn: Well, last year we released a documentary about my mom, which I co-directed. That was a really significant moment for me and for our family because it was the first time we publicly shared, “This is who we believe she was.” We had never really done that before as a family, and coming together for it felt so meaningful.
A big part of why I wanted to do it was because of my own children—they never got the chance to know her. Working on the documentary, stepping back, and looking at her life from a more objective perspective helped me understand so much more about her. I uncovered layers I didn’t even expect to find. Through that process, I also realized how much of her I’ve already internalized and how much of her is reflected in the things I do. Like we talked about earlier, it’s just in me—it’s who I am.
I definitely feel a sense of responsibility. We’ve been given so much in this life. I feel like we had the best mom—not a perfect mom, because she was a very complex person—but she gave us so much richness in life. That’s something I hope to pass on to my child. Beyond that, I want to honor her by sharing that same richness and love with others—not just with our children, but with anyone I encounter. I know it sounds super cheesy, but it’s about paying that love forward to every person you meet and spreading the richness she gave to us.
She was always championing others. If she saw a gift or talent in someone, no matter who they were, she’d be the first to say, “Oh, you need to pursue this.” She would offer unsolicited advice sometimes, but it always came from a place of encouragement. She had this incredible ability to see the potential in people and champion them to become their fullest, most authentic selves.
Amanda: I think, like Brooklyn said, my mom wasn’t perfect—she was very complex. But when I try to distill her essence, removing the childhood trauma and the overwhelming parts of her life, I see someone extraordinary. It was overwhelming for her to go from being a sheltered schoolgirl to suddenly being in Germany, having a hit single that exploded everywhere, and dealing with an image that wasn’t necessarily how she wanted to present herself. But when you strip all of that away, at her core, she was so much fun. She loved making memories, bringing people together, and connecting with others. I think that joy and connection come through in her music, but it was just as present in her everyday life.
For me, carrying on her legacy doesn’t feel like pressure—it’s a joy. When I think of her, in my mind’s eye, I imagine her here right now, cheering me on and saying, “Good job, Gracie girl! You’re doing amazing.” She’d be hyping us up, full of love and encouragement. My daughter’s name is Luna Bird, after my mom—I used to call her Mommy Bird. It’s my way of keeping that connection alive.
She was always championing others. If she saw a gift or talent in someone, no matter who they were, she’d be the first to say, “Oh, you need to pursue this.” She would offer unsolicited advice sometimes, but it always came from a place of encouragement. She had this incredible ability to see the potential in people and champion them to become their fullest, most authentic selves.
Do you think watching your mom inspired you, or do you feel like that creativity is just something innate in you? Or maybe it’s both—because, well, she is your mom.
Brooklyn: I think it’s innate—it’s in our genes. Both of our parents are highly creative. My dad is still a musician and recording artist even now, well into his seventies. So it’s part of who we are, but it’s also what we were surrounded by. We grew up around so many artistic people. For example, Sophia Loren was one of our neighbors, and we had all these random, fascinating people in our lives. That was just how they lived their lives, so to us, it felt completely normal.
Following in the footsteps and being an artist in your own right, do you feel like that’s connected to your mom’s spirit and being part of a musical family?
Amanda: Totally. Early on, we used to joke about it because we’d ask people not to announce who we were before we went on stage. We didn’t want it to turn into, “Oh, you’re Donna Summer’s daughter,” with people looking at us and trying to hear Donna in our voices or comparing us to her. It was really about honoring her—we wanted her to be her and us to be us. We didn’t want it to feel like we were using her legacy to build our careers. Now it’s so much more fun because we’ve established our careers, and we can really enjoy it.
I love it because we have a picture in our house of my mom and dad sitting at a piano together, recording music. What’s special for me is that my husband and I do the same thing—we write music, sing, record, and travel together. I watched my parents do that growing up, and it gives us this assurance that, hey, you can live a great life and make it work. Sure, it might get a little wild or chaotic at times, but it’s
It’s fun to feel like we’re reliving a bit of their history. My parents used to tour together, travel with their friends, and create those memories. When I watch the documentary and see my parents goofing around in a hotel with their band and crew, I think, “Yeah, that’s exactly what my life feels like.” It’s such a joy for me to see those parallels.
What other lessons did you learn from your Mom?
Brooklyn: Always buy good clothes. If you invest in quality, even if you don’t have a lot, just one good suit or one good outfit can make a difference. The people who know will recognize that you have good taste, and they’ll trust your judgment. So, always choose quality over quantity.
How did it feel to collaborate with Noah on this project and why did you decide to let us be part of it?
Brooklyn: Well, at the end of the day, it’s really about what you guys represent. Like you were saying earlier, you’re all about quality, style, class, and that undeniable cool factor. In my opinion, that aligns so much with the ethos of who we are and what my mom’s legacy represents—something for the people. So yeah, it just felt natural, like working with friends and family.
What is a favorite song of your mother's?
Brooklyn: It really depends on the day. Right now, the song that’s coming to mind is I’m a Rainbow. My father actually wrote it, but she sings it so beautifully. It’s a really special one.
Yeah, that’s kind of wild—you’re doing it, but in your own way. So did your mom ever experience one of your shows?
Amanda: Yes! We have a favorite story from our early days. My mom would come to our shows whenever she could, but there’s one show in particular that stands out. It was in Fairfield, Connecticut, and we were in New York with my parents. The plan was simple: hop on the train, go to Fairfield, play the show, and head back. It was a small black box theater, and we were one of five acts performing. Maybe four people were going to show up. It was one of those early gigs where we were just happy to have a show at all.
But my mom was like, “No, I’m renting a car and driving you.” I protested, saying, “No, Mom, it’s going to be embarrassing. You’ll be one of seven people there.” But she said, “These are the good old days. This is the part I want to be here for—when you’re just starting out and playing your first couple of shows.”
So she rented a car, and my husband and I rode in the backseat like two little kids while my parents drove us to the show. They even helped us load in our gear. My mom sat right in the front row, hyping us up, putting money in the tip jar—the whole thing. She was our biggest cheerleader, through and through.
Is there a specific lesson you learned from your mom—something that stands out—that you now want to pass on to your daughters?
Brooklyn: I think growing up with parents who are known, you sometimes just want to blend in—not to stand out too much or ruffle any feathers. People are already paying attention to you in some way, and I’d often want to play it safe. But my mom would always say, “Brooklyn, be you. Take the risk. Just do it.” She constantly encouraged me to embrace being different, to not feel like I had to follow what everyone else was doing, and to take risks—whether it was with fashion, a song choice, or a creative project.
Now, I find myself saying the same thing to my almost 11-year-old daughter: “Be fully you. It doesn’t matter if none of your friends are doing it. If it’s something you think is cool or something you want to try, go for it.” Be odd.
Brooklyn: Yeah, be the odd one out if that’s true to who you are. Don’t play it safe just because you feel like you need to fit in or meet some expectation.
Amanda: Exactly. I’ve learned that over time, and it’s something I try to teach my daughter too. Be kind, absolutely—but don’t be afraid to take risks. Don’t be afraid to take the path less traveled.
Do you think watching your mom inspired you, or do you feel like that creativity is just something innate in you? Or maybe it’s both—because, well, she is your mom.
Brooklyn: I think it’s innate—it’s in our genes. Both of our parents are highly creative. My dad is still a musician and recording artist even now, well into his seventies. So it’s part of who we are, but it’s also what we were surrounded by. We grew up around so many artistic people. For example, Sophia Loren was one of our neighbors, and we had all these random, fascinating people in our lives. That was just how they lived their lives, so to us, it felt completely normal.
Following in the footsteps and being an artist in your own right, do you feel like that’s connected to your mom’s spirit and being part of a musical family?
Brooklyn: Totally. Early on, we used to joke about it because we’d ask people not to announce who we were before we went on stage. We didn’t want it to turn into, “Oh, you’re Donna Summer’s daughter,” with people looking at us and trying to hear Donna in our voices or comparing us to her. It was really about honoring her—we wanted her to be her and us to be us. We didn’t want it to feel like we were using her legacy to build our careers. Now it’s so much more fun because we’ve established our careers, and we can really enjoy it.
I love it because we have a picture in our house of my mom and dad sitting at a piano together, recording music. What’s special for me is that my husband and I do the same thing—we write music, sing, record, and travel together. I watched my parents do that growing up, and it gives us this assurance that, hey, you can live a great life and make it work. Sure, it might get a little wild or chaotic at times, but it’s
It’s fun to feel like we’re reliving a bit of their history. My parents used to tour together, travel with their friends, and create those memories. When I watch the documentary and see my parents goofing around in a hotel with their band and crew, I think, “Yeah, that’s exactly what my life feels like.” It’s such a joy for me to see those parallels.
Yeah, that’s kind of wild—you’re doing it, but in your own way. So did your mom ever experience come to one of your shows?
Brooklyn: Yes! We have a favorite story from our early days. My mom would come to our shows whenever she could, but there’s one show in particular that stands out. It was in Fairfield, Connecticut, and we were in New York with my parents. The plan was simple: hop on the train, go to Fairfield, play the show, and head back. It was a small black box theater, and we were one of five acts performing. Maybe four people were going to show up. It was one of those early gigs where we were just happy to have a show at all.
But my mom was like, “No, I’m renting a car and driving you.” I protested, saying, “No, Mom, it’s going to be embarrassing. You’ll be one of seven people there.” But she said, “These are the good old days. This is the part I want to be here for—when you’re just starting out and playing your first couple of shows.”
So she rented a car, and my husband and I rode in the backseat like two little kids while my parents drove us to the show. They even helped us load in our gear. My mom sat right in the front row, hyping us up, putting money in the tip jar—the whole thing. She was our biggest cheerleader, through and through.
Is there a specific lesson you learned from your mom—something that stands out—that you now want to pass on to your daughters?
Brooklyn: I think growing up with parents who are known, you sometimes just want to blend in—not to stand out too much or ruffle any feathers. People are already paying attention to you in some way, and I’d often want to play it safe. But my mom would always say, “Brooklyn, be you. Take the risk. Just do it.” She constantly encouraged me to embrace being different, to not feel like I had to follow what everyone else was doing, and to take risks—whether it was with fashion, a song choice, or a creative project.
Now, I find myself saying the same thing to my almost 11-year-old daughter: “Be fully you. It doesn’t matter if none of your friends are doing it. If it’s something you think is cool or something you want to try, go for it.” Be odd.
Amanda: Yeah, be the odd one out if that’s true to who you are. Don’t play it safe just because you feel like you need to fit in or meet some expectation.
Brooklyn: Exactly. I’ve learned that over time, and it’s something I try to teach my daughter too. Be kind, absolutely—but don’t be afraid to take risks. Don’t be afraid to take the path less traveled.
What other lessons did you learn from your Mom?
Brooklyn: Always buy good clothes. If you invest in quality, even if you don’t have a lot, just one good suit or one good outfit can make a difference. The people who know will recognize that you have good taste, and they’ll trust your judgment. So, always choose quality over quantity.
How did it feel to collaborate with Noah on this project and why did you decide to let us be part of it?
Brooklyn: Well, at the end of the day, it’s really about what you guys represent. Like you were saying earlier, you’re all about quality, style, class, and that undeniable cool factor. In my opinion, that aligns so much with the ethos of who we are and what my mom’s legacy represents—something for the people. So yeah, it just felt natural, like working with friends and family.
What is a favorite song of your mother's?
Brooklyn: It really depends on the day. Right now, the song that’s coming to mind is I’m a Rainbow. My father actually wrote it, but she sings it so beautifully. It’s a really special one.