“What are your influences?”
It’s what we get asked a lot, as a band. I’ve never had an easy answer for it. I grew up singing showtunes and lip-synching Hilary Duff while my contemporaries maxed out their eyeliner and learned to shred. A part of me has never felt completely at home as a rock-frontwoman, so I’ve tended to default to my theater training: when in doubt, put on a costume and become a character.
In my closet, there’s a pile I’ve designated my “Stories Told wardrobe.” It’s all band tees, cropped shirts, ripped jeans, and Chucks (my band’s unofficial official footwear). Every gig has had me defaulting to that limited selection, the twenty-odd ad girl putting on the skin of an odd-teen rocker. Even with the miniskirts and fishnet tights, the transformation has always felt “wholesome” in the wrong sense of the word–little-girlish, like playing dress-up.
Today wasn’t a decision so much as a move made out of laziness. It was too difficult, this morning, to turn on a separate part of my brain in order to come up with a “frontwoman” outfit. So I’m wearing what I’d wear everywhere else: to work on Casual Friday, to a Loudmouth Collective gig, to an Elinor Project open mic, to an audition. Maybe knitwear isn’t entirely rock-and-roll, but then again neither am I.
“What are your influences?” Old books; fountain pens; Tumblr; odd metaphors; dark-haired, liquid-eyed poets quoting “Snow and Dirty Rain.” The frontwoman used to sing Disney and show tunes. The frontwoman still sings Disney and show tunes any chance she gets.
Bralette: GiGi Amore
Boots: Call it Spring
Glasses: Bazaar (but pretty sure you can land a similar pair at i2i or Sunnies Specs).