What kind of music do you make?
I’m in a band called Seasick. The name just kind of came to me in the middle of the night once. We play dark, experimental, psychedelic folk-rock. I sing, I play guitar, I write all the songs. It’s sort of my band.
How would you describe your style?
As a semi-catastrophic accident. It’s an improvised thing—I’m very attracted to color and to form, but I don’t think about it in terms of fashion. I just sort of end up wearing something.
Where do you buy clothes?
I’ll find things in the street, or they’ll find me. I have a bizarre relationship with clothes. It’s like they’re lively creatures that wind up on my body. Like this dress: I found it at a thrift shop, and it totally stood out from across the room—like, “You are the one.”
How do you dress when you perform?
If there’s a visual counterpart to the sound, I dress like that. I like to make it a bit theatrical and fantastical and eccentric and out-of-the-ordinary, but not like a costume for the sake of wearing a costume. As a performer, wearing something wacko can bring out different parts of your personality.
Which part of your personality does red bring out?
Well, I just recorded a music video in this dress. Red is an angry-but-happy color.
How long have you been in New York?
Two and a half years. I was living in London, and I had a dream that I should move here. Two weeks later, I was on a plane. I’d been in London about fifteen years, but as soon as I got here, I knew exactly why I came.
It’s a very spiritual place, New York. There’s such an instant karma—what you put in, you get out. I’m very multicultural—my mother’s from Latvia, my father’s from Iran, I was born in the U.S., and I grew up in England and France. Here, I feel normal.