Dialling in from New Orleans the morning after Kendrick Lamar’s Super Bowl halftime show, Doechii is in high spirits. Last night was, of course, a movie, and she has the photos – head-to-toe in Miu Miu – to prove it. She grins, clutching a copy of Jennifer Clement’s Widow Basquiat: A Memoir, as she struts out of her hotel. She blows kisses to the camera while hanging out the door of her Suburban SUV. She takes selfies and throws up matching peace signs with a rather sombre-styled Lady Gaga. “Oh my God,” she moans. “It was incredible meeting her. I’m the biggest, the hugest Gaga fan. I’ve watched every performance and every interview, so seeing her passion in person was cool.” She ended the party on a private jet, sprawled out across the sofa in a silk bonnet and mismatched sweatsuit. “I mean, legendary,” she says, reliving what has now become the most-watched Super Bowl half-time show in history. “Kendrick is the legacy act, so seeing him was incredible.”
Nowadays, the jet-set life is standard in her increasingly turbo-speed existence. Just three weeks ago, we were on set in LA for this very cover shoot. In the time since, the Florida rapper born Jaylah Ji’mya Hickmon made her debut Grammy performance, became the third woman in history to win a Grammy for best rap album – for last year’s Alligator Bites Never Heal mixtape – and dropped her surprise single “Nosebleeds” to critical praise. The Grammys were a whirlwind – people coming at her from every direction. The moment was a maelstrom of congratulatory pats on the back, celebratory smiles and toasts, camera flashes, Glambots and step-and-repeats. Amid the inevitable chaos, it’s easy to get swept up in the moment, but Doechii was insistent on being present. “I wanted to hear people when they were talking to me, to feel them, to look them in the eyes, accept these compliments, and receive all that good energy because I need that,” she says earnestly. “I got to cry with my team. I got to talk with my team. We shared laughs, and I tried to be in every moment throughout the day.”
In a rare quiet hour, Doechii reflects on her past, her present, and the future she’s been dreaming of. Characteristically vulnerable over the course of our conversation, she gives a glimpse into the inner workings of the seismic world she is building, with roots firmly in the swamps of Tampa.
Give us a sense of Grammy night. How was it in the first couple of hours leading up to that moment?
Doechii: Surprisingly, I felt a calm that I didn’t expect myself to feel. It was an anxiety-inducing day but I felt extremely relaxed. I’ve felt more nervous going on stage for tours. The moment leading up to the category that I was excited about – best rap album – and the moment Cardi B was presenting the award, and she opened up the envelope... that’s when all the nerves were, like, ‘Oh my God, I can’t! I don’t know what’s going to happen right now.’ And then all of the emotions I felt had been building up over the past couple of months – because I’ve been working so hard and I’m so tired – just came over me, and it all came full circle. It was crazy. I felt like I was in a dream.
Did you get to meet and speak to anyone of interest?
Doechii: I was running around so much on Grammy day, and we changed looks four or five different times in the night so you’d be surprised. I didn’t have a lot of time to bump into people. I was with my team and doing a lot of pre-performance rituals, breathing and stretching. I was immersed in my performance and my award the whole night, but I did run into Jay-Z, which was cool.
Outside of the big night, what is a typical day in the life of Doechii? Is there a routine you adhere to?
Doechii: Lately, I’ve been starting my mornings early with tea and a good stretch. I’ve been trying this peach ginger tea. It’s really good. I like to meditate and have time to myself before I start the day. I’m around a lot of people all the time and as much as I seem social, I’m really an introvert and I like to be by myself. I have my routine before I get social in the day, and then I either write a poem or try to create something in some way before I start. And then I get straight into work.
I’m sure you’ve seen everyone reposting your old YouTube videos by now. Coincidentally, the day before our shoot was 10 years to the day of your first YouTube upload. In the second video you posted, you spoke candidly about practising your confessions: “Every morning and then, right before I go to bed, I confess everything that I want in my life and watch it come to pass.” Is this something you still do today?
Doechii: Absolutely. When I talk about my meditations, a lot of it includes my confessions and the things that I desire. I still take time to imagine and dream and think of new goals... Actually, I’m going to change the word ‘goals’ to: I just like to imagine. You have to dream and find time to dream or else you stop creating new things to chase. So, yes, I like to do that, and I like to have my affirmations and claim them.
Tell me about that girl. Who was Jaylah back then, and what’s her backstory?
Doechii: I’m still that girl. I’m very good at chasing my dreams. I’ve always been mesmerised by my life and what it could be. The concept of being able to manifest anything is cool to me, and so I made it my business. I just wanted to share with other people the cool things that I’d learned and tapped into. How you could dream and be something. How you can change yourself and change your circumstances. And I would just vlog my life because I thought the way I lived was cool and I wanted to teach people how to tap into this thing. And that’s who that girl was and still is.
I’d love to get a sense of Tampa and some of your earliest memories or pivotal moments of growing up there. How has it informed you?
Doechii: One moment sticking out to me is around 2007, when I lived in Sulphur Springs and my house was one house over from this community rec centre. It was in the hood, and they would do barbecues and sports, and all the kids from the neighbourhood would go there. A lot of my earliest memories of Florida are based around community and culture. Black people coming together, being creative and doing cool shit. Everybody would come to the rec centre on the weekends and stunt in the hardest outfit, just to do it. My earliest memories of fashion and showing up in a look and getting a look off was at my local rec centre. Or playing tetherball in the heat; everybody coming with the hardest hairdos and music, rappers and mixtapes, all of that started in that community. A lot of my memories are based around that.
“They don’t make statues of the critics. Judgment and critique are not more important than art. And that’s just what it is”
Where in those moments was Doechii born? How did she come to be?
Doechii: Doechii wasn’t born until years later. This was around sixth or seventh grade. I was bullied so bad that I was becoming somebody else for someone else’s comfort. It fucked up my head because I always knew I was that girl. I always knew I was dope as fuck. My taste level was very high when I was young. I was not into the shit that everybody else was into. Not to say they weren’t into cool shit, but my shit was just cooler. So, anyway! [laughs] I was in a position where I thought about killing myself because the bullying was so bad. Then I had this realisation: I’m not gonna do that, because then they’re gonna all get a chance to live and I’m gonna be the one dead, and look at my taste! Nobody wants that. I don’t want that. That’s not the life I want to live. It made me realise I had gotten down to a point where I was thinking about taking my own life because of what other people thought about me, and I realised, “OK, what do I really think is important? What do I want here?” I had that realisation pretty young, and that birthed Doechii.
Who were you becoming? Who did you want to be?
Doechii: When people bully you, they want you to feel ashamed of yourself. They want you to feel insecure, to feel bad. They want you to feel ugly, like, “Bitch! You shouldn’t have that confidence. Look at you, your dark skin, you’re ugly, you’re stupid, you’re weird. Why are you wearing that? You should not feel this confident and be looking like that.” That’s how they wanted me to feel, and I was starting to become that person. Like, “Oh, maybe I shouldn’t be acting like this. This confident. Maybe I shouldn’t be wearing these things, maybe I shouldn’t be listening to this type of music. Maybe I shouldn’t be going these places.” I was in gymnastics and shit when it wasn’t cool. I was becoming less of myself to make them more comfortable, to fit the box that they wanted me in, and that wasn’t truly who I was. I was brilliant and have always been stunning.
You’ve described yourself as an alt Black girl and have just detailed some of your struggle to fit in in the past. SZA recently discussed the lack of alt-Black-girl representation when she was growing up on The Drew Barrymore Show, and so I wanted to ask you your take on this. Did that representation exist for you at all?
Doechii: Yeah, that representation for me was in Janelle Monáe, Lauryn Hill, SZA in high school, André 3000 – Outkast in general, actually – Missy Elliott. Those alt-whimsical archetypes in music are what I lean towards. Grace Jones!
What I love about your YouTube videos is that they are a testament to your ability to not only tell stories but sincerely document them. It’s never completely resolved; it’s always in process. We often like to be perceived as perfect when posting online but you seem fine with not having it all figured out. How important is documentation and how do you like to document?
Doechii: I choose to document my imperfections because I believe that [they are] perfect. The most human. It goes back to [being] obsessed with my existence, just existing. It doesn’t have to be resolved. I don’t always have it together, and I still really love that part. I think it’s interesting. It’s cool. I document it because then other people can see they don’t have to have the answers right now, and [they’re] still worth it. You know what I’m saying? Shit is still OK. When I was making those vlogs at that time, especially during my artistic journey, I knew I needed to be extremely transparent about it because, one, I would look back at it for myself, and I have to be real with myself. I hate secrets. And, two, I knew that some other artists would need to see that like I needed [to see] that. I needed an artist to be making vlogs like that and saying the things I was saying and be honest, because everybody, when they tell their come-up story, is like, “I did this, I learned that, I got it out the mud and now I’m here.” Boom! But what about the part where you didn’t like your art? Nobody wants to admit that. What about the part where you felt like you and your label weren’t fucking cool? What about the part where you wanted to give up? Like, genuinely, you know what I mean? Or when you were really broke and couldn’t afford anything. How did you specifically make it out? Show me the couch that you hopped on. I want to see those things.
At what point did you not like your art, Doechii?
Doechii: Oh my God! It took me a long time to like my art. I kept making it, but I always thought that it was fucking corny. I hated it. I think it was probably around the time when I was dropping Colors music sessions. You’d have to deep-dive. I didn’t like what I was making because I didn’t feel like I had my sound. I was gravitating towards so many different things. I was so obsessed with inventing something over discovering something. I was so obsessed with perfecting something over curiosity, that I judged my art so harshly, and I hated everything that I did.
People do need to hear this. What role does storytelling play in your writing? Alligator Bites Never Heal has a clear narrative but how do you translate these personal stories into universal messages?
Doechii: I treat songwriting like my vlogs. I treat the songs like my diary. Just say what it is – say what happened, honestly. I have no idea. I don’t know how I’m doing this. I don’t know how it’s translating to the masses at all. I’m just being really honest about my life. That’s it.
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How does vulnerability or transparency serve you and the work that you create?
Doechii: It is my gateway to the next part of myself; honesty, authenticity and audacity are how I unlock the next level of myself. I have to do that by being honest about who I am in each moment. Sometimes that can be hard. And that’s what vulnerability is to me. It’s having the audacity to be real with yourself and then love yourself. Like, this is who I am right now. I don’t like this part of me, but it’s still worth it, right? It’s still worth talking about and writing about.
“Stanka Pooh” is a super-vulnerable opener, and you share a lot of your insecurities and big life fears. Why did you start the record there?
Doechii: I have to give Jayda, my engineer, credit. She was the one who kept pressing for me to start with “Stanka Pooh”. I didn’t want to start like that because I felt like it was too deep. Like, “Damn, this is dark. Why are we starting like this?” But when I look back on it, I probably agreed to it because it’s addressing the deepest fear in all of us, which is death. It’s about the concept of death and my fear of getting older, and the concept of time, and being a failure, dying with where I am. I said, “And if I died today, I’d die a bastard / TikTok rapper, part-time YouTube actor / Pop my shit, then a muscle relaxer / Intergalacter, worldwide capper.” This is me being brutally honest about where I am today. Would I be OK with who I am if I died today? No, but fuck it. So let’s go there.
Another favourite lyric of mine is: “They don’t make statues of critics / They don’t make statues of fans.” What do you feel is your obligation as an artist?
Doechii: My obligation as an artist is to be completely honest and to also show people themselves through me; that’s my job. Your job is to critique, your job is to consume. Your job is to judge. They don’t make statues of the critics. I’ve never seen a statue of a critic. I’ve never seen a statue of a hater. But the person in the mirror? There will always be a statue of [that person]. And I have to remember that when I’m creating my art. Judgment and critique are not more important than art. And that’s just what it is.
“I was becoming less of myself to fit the box [the bullies] wanted me in, and that wasn’t truly who I was. I was brilliant and have always been stunning”
Another favourite line of mine is, “I’m a dying sunflower leaving a trail of seeds / In the 813, this my legacy.”
Doechii: My grandma calls me a sunflower, and she also calls me her California raisin. That’s what I think about it. I’m this slight flower, and all of my art is like these seeds that are kind of leaving a trail to, ultimately, my death. Yeah, I’m a dying sunflower leaving a trail of seeds. It’s quite literal. It’s just me living life, leaving my art behind.
On the creative call we had, you said something that had us all breathe a sigh of relief. You wanted to come on set and just become this person we had envisioned for you. That is such a rarity nowadays. How do you feel about creating worlds, characters and referencing?
Doechii: I think that something I have learned in developing good taste is how to properly reference. People are obsessed with the 90s, but they don’t dig into the history of what was going on in the 90s that inspired people to dress that way – what was going on politically at the time, where people were emotionally and mentally – and I think that’s why we get caught in the nostalgia loop. Because we’re so obsessed with the aesthetics instead of the stories that are attached to those times and the lessons that came out of them. So, for example, I like Pharrell and Outkast and Missy Elliott and stuff like that. They reference futurism a lot, and sometimes people take inspiration from their aesthetics. But I like to go through their interviews and reference the way that they think and the way that they approach creativity. I remember there was this thing that I learned from Kanye West, where he wrote a song a day, and that built this ethos of how I create things. Instead of going and referencing the way he makes songs. Do you know what I mean?
You are also a fan of alter egos. We had one for this shoot. You had one across Alligator Bites Never Heal. Looking ahead, is there a character you are embodying as you work on your next project?
Doechii: For sure. I like to use the word archetype. In Alligator Bites Never Heals, the archetype was a student of hip-hop. For this next project, I’m thinking about how this student develops. Who does she develop into? What has she learned? I’m still unpacking how that character develops into this next project.
And who was that, on “Nosebleeds”?
Doechii: You know, funny story: I made that song years ago because I was inspired by Kanye’s first Grammy speech. He was like, “Everybody wanted to know what I would do if I didn’t win... I guess we’ll never know.” And I thought that was so cool. And I was like, “I’m gonna make a song where I pretend that I won a Grammy.” I made it years ago, then I remembered the song and I said, “If I do win a Grammy, I’ll drop this.” And boom, I had it ready.
That’s so cheeky, I love it. You’ve also made a previous point about the politics of making an album versus a mixtape. Now the mixtape has had its success, how are you going about making new music and the album?
Doechii: My process when I make music shifts so much. I am trying to figure out how I can comfortably create this time. Because of what it took last time I was recording, every day, I was by myself and I was getting beats off of YouTube and stuff like that. And now I’m like, how can I utilise all of the new resources? Because now, you know, I’m popping and shit. I have access to the best producers and people want to work with me, and now I can do features. The project before didn’t have any features. And now it’s like, how can I use these resources and start to work more with people in a way that’s comfortable for me – because I’m a loner. I like to work alone. I’m figuring it out and I’m really in the early stages. I have no fucking clue, but my goal is to work quickly. I like to create quickly and freely, so we’ll see.
What can we expect from you sonically in the near future?
Doechii: This is gonna sound so corny, but just expect the unexpected. What you think I’m gonna do, I’m probably not gonna do.
In a way, I thought the Jennie collaboration was quite unexpected. How was it working with her?
Doechii: She’s a star. She’s really inspiring. I like how professional and involved she is. We’re both involved in that same way, and I respect and like that about her. It was great working with her. She’s talented.
Is there anyone else that you would love to collaborate with? Besides Kendrick, of course.
Doechii: I’ve been obsessed with the idea of getting other artists out of their comfort zones on my project and having them do the opposite of what they usually do. What would it sound like if Sexyy Red did an interlude on my album and she read a poem? What would it sound like if I had SZA on a boom-bap rap and she was rapping instead of singing, completely fucking up what people expect these artists to do? I think that could be cool. I just gave away my whole shit!
I’ve also been thinking about your hairstyles, as it feels like you’ve made a very conscious effort with your natural styles. Is this true?
Doechii: I went through a period where haircare was always extremely important, especially with my mom. My mom has all girls; she’s a single mom of three and she always stressed haircare to us. It was at some point in my 20s where I was no longer living with my mom, and I’m living my life where I just stopped taking care of my hair. It started off experimental because I would cut it, I would dye it. Then I permed it, then I shaved it off and I grew it out. I was trying different things that went from experimenting to neglecting [my hair]. Fast forward, I turned 25, and my brain developed fully, and I needed to take care of my hair, so I made a conscious decision to start growing it out, and I’m trying to figure out what natural hairstyles work for me. I’m no longer gravitating towards wigs because I’m pulling my edges out. I’m not taking care of my hair, travelling all the time, and [doing] all these crazy styles. In the “Catfish” music video I did corn- rows, and I hadn’t done cornrows since, oh my God, elementary school. And something about the corn- rows... you can see my face, my hair is protected. And after I take the braids out, I can just do my treatments and oil it and then braid it back. Something about it just felt like this is who I am right now in my life, and I just kept getting the cornrows because I felt beautiful in them, and I can maintain my hair and take care of myself easiest this way.
“I always knew I was that girl. I always knew I was dope as fuck”
Speaking of styles, how did you find your style? Or are you still experimenting?
Doechii: It just depends on where I am in my life. I’ll never pinpoint myself. I’ll never lock myself down to one particular style. It’s not me. It never will be me. I find it so depressing to feel like you have to dress one way, but I also admire people who can consistently stay in a bag. Right now, again, I feel inspired by Jay-Z with his pinstripe suits and stuff, and early Kanye West with his polos and things – that student of hip hop thing. I’m really in a place where I fell in love with hip hop again because I got sober and my pineal gland fucking developed. That academia aesthetic was cool to me. I also started gravitating towards more comfortable clothing. I never used to dress for comfort; that wasn’t me. I liked to wear avant-garde things that were the most uncomfortable and the most theatrical. Now I prioritise comfort over everything. Now that I’m 26 and getting older, I like baggy things. And I don’t know where that came from. I say that, but I had like, a cinched dress at the Grammys, like a corset, where I couldn’t breathe.
Duality is key. You’re now also on the Met Gala committee, which is brilliant. Congratulations! What are we to expect from you on the big day?
Doechii: I mean, you can expect the absolute most. I take this so seriously. I’m going to tell a story. I’m going to give a look. You can expect performance art, for sure – through fashion.
We’re ready! Side question: We all see that picture of you with your Erewhon bag on the
way to your Grammy rehearsals. What’s your Erewhon order?
Doechii: Oh my God, I do go to Erewhon! OK, I do rice and black beans. Sometimes, I’ll do the eggplant lasagne or I’ll do the steak strips. I’ll get my green juice, an expensive-ass water, some flowers, and I’m done. And that order is, like, $100.
Finally, you’ve maintained a balance between tradition and modernity very well. You know your history and you embrace the present, all while projecting into the future. I would love to know what the future looks like for you.
Doechii: Good question. I can’t predict it but I know that if I can, I will find a way to unravel myself more creatively, internally and mentally. I will unravel even more and so whatever that future looks like, it will be me being even more vulnerable and artistically free, with less insecurities and wiser and more fab and richer. That’s what the future is going to look like for me and it’s going to reflect through my art as well.
Hair MALCOLM MARQUEZ at OPUS BEAUTY, make-up DEE CARRION at PARADIS NYC using HAUS LABS, nails RACHEL SUN, set design PATIENCE HARDING at NEW SCHOOL REPRESENTS, photographic assistants TREVOR PIKHART, JEREMY SINCLAIR, styling assistants MONI JIANG, ALEXA LEVINE, TARA BOYETTE, RUBY BRAVO, VIVIAN BUENROSTRO, tailoring IRINA TSHARTARYAN, hair assistants JASMINE BAGLEY, art coordinator CAROLINE JACKSON, lead man EMAHN X RAY, prop master BRADFORD SCHROEDER, digital operator GEORGE BROOKS, production CONNECT THE DOTS, production assistants MARK CHECHE, MATEO CALVO, post-production THE HAND OF GOD