How I'm getting back to my original voice
Jessica DeFino joins Cave of the Heart and answers 5 questions on self-trust
Describe the setting where you’re answering these questions.
It’s about 9pm on a Friday night in late February and I’m sitting on a stool at my kitchen island in Toms River, New Jersey with a glass of BONANZA wine (cabernet sauvignon) in hand. In front of me is a tray of fruit (rotting avocados) and a “bouquet” I made out of dead pussy willows and swan feathers. To my right is my notebook, open to my to-do list, and I cannot wait to cross off “Cave of the Heart interview.” Does this sound sad? I suppose I’m a little sad. It’s the weekend in suburban New Jersey and I’m alive in the glow of my laptop!!
Childhood
Q: Were you a chatterbox as a child, or were you quiet or something else entirely? When you spoke up or expressed a preference, what sort of response did you get?
A: I was painfully shy in pre-school. I wouldn’t talk to anyone; I would steal toys from the classroom and bring them home and tell my mom I got them as a prize for being so good though. My parents brought me to a therapist and she came up with the concept of a “bravery bag” — a goodie bag full of dollar-store bouncy balls and candy and things like that, and whenever I did something “brave,” like talk to another human being, I got to pick a treat from the bag. I think I tried to make not-very-brave things (like turning on a lamp during the day) seem braver than they were (if the lights were out, my bedroom had technically been dark). I know I wanted the reward of the treat without the risk of the act of “bravery.” I’m sure the bag helped a little but not a lot. In elementary school I remember pulling my long ponytail across my face and biting down on it. I figured if my mouth was full of hair (???) the teacher wouldn’t call on me.
At home, I was the opposite. I loved to sing and put on shows, and I forced my family to watch me perform all day, everyday, until I left for college, where I majored in vocal performance and songwriting. (My parents were very supportive and still are. My dad is devastated that I’m no longer pursuing pop stardom. I’m 34.) I realized two years into college that I didn’t want to perform anymore — too much pressure — so I pivoted to wardrobe styling for musicians. I liked the idea of matching a look to a sound. I did that for a few years in LA and worked with Jason Mraz and All American Rejects and The Fray, which led me into celebrity lifestyle writing, which led me into working on the Kardashian-Jenner apps, which led me into the beauty industry, and here I am!
Influences
Q: If you had to choose one person from your past that most influenced who you are today, who would that be and why? This can be a person from history, an animal, a fictitious character in a book, TV or movie.
A: I am going to take the phrase “who you are today” very literally and go with Harry Dean Stanton — specifically, Harry Dean Stanton in conversation with David Lynch; that famous interaction where David Lynch says “How would you describe yourself?” and Harry Dean Stanton says, “As nothing. There is no self,” and they laugh.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of the self today for an article I’m writing on beauty as so-called “self-care” and “self-expression.” I bristle when people use these terms because in order for beauty products to be a tool for self-expression, you first must have a self to express, and I get the overwhelming sense that most people don’t know who they are outside of what they buy and apply. Beauty products are more often used to create an image of a self than express an existing self. I don’t know. I’m taking a class on existentialism and Simone de Beauvoir, so that has something to do with it. But the more I think and read about the self, the more I’m convinced there is no essential self, not in any way that matters, and pursuing solidarity with the collective is a more interesting and liberating project than defining the self anyway? So yeah, today, specifically, I am luxuriating in the nothingness of being with Harry Dean Stanton (and Buddha before him).
Creative Spark
Q: What was the last creative spark that you were really excited about, but it ultimately fizzled out? What do you do when something doesn’t come to life like you’d imagined?
A: OK, I am still excited about this one and it still fizzled! A couple months ago, a cosmetics company called Flirté Beauty sent me a press release about its new app, in which users upload pictures of their nipples and Flirté generates a list of shoppable lipsticks shade-matched to the customer’s nips. The brand calls it a “biological phenomenon” and claims “nature has been giving us the answers all along.” Somehow, the absurdity of beauty industry marketing still shocks me! I let this marinate in the back of mind for a while until a creative spark hit me in the middle of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. I was looking at “The Dead Christ With Angels” by Rosso Fiorentino and thought… If color-matching your nips to your lips is “biological” and an “answer” from “nature,” what if I Photoshopped nipple-matched lipstick onto a shirtless Jesus? Or Botticelli’s Venus? Or other famous nude artworks, paintings of all genders and all species? (Humans aren’t the only creatures with nipples, after all.)
I planned this big, subversive art show in my head in seconds, wanting to challenge the idea that women are biologically programmed for beauty, etc. And I was actually supposed to give a presentation on beauty standards later that month, but when I pitched this idea to the organizers, they said they’d rather stick to our original concept, and my motivation sort of fizzled from there. I realized I’m not an established artist or a curator or anything, and I don’t have the resources to produce a project like this. I settled for writing a regular article about the app instead, but I still dream of Flirté Jesus.
Writing Process
Q: Were there any habits or beliefs that you had to let go of in order to more deeply trust your writing process?
A: Instagram. Instagram broke my brain. I queried my first literary agent in 2018 and she told me if I ever wanted to sell a book, I needed at least 10,000 Instagram followers. I was already on Instagram at that point, but I wasn’t very active and only had a couple thousand followers, so I made Instagram my entire life for about a year until I hit 10k — at which point, I could not stop. I was obsessed. I posted constantly. On the grid, via Stories… I got into fights in the comments. I got involved in influencer drama. I sincerely believe my writing has not been the same since. It’s been two years since I posted on IG, and when I sit down to create, the dominant voice in my head is not my own (which used to be very confident, pretty sassy, full of conviction) but that of an Instagram troll eager to rip me apart (poking holes, pointing out how stupid I am, bringing up bad-faith arguments). I don’t know if I’ll ever get rid of that and get back to my original voice. But I do think I’m figuring out ways to use self-trolling as a tool to strengthen my arguments — or at least prepare for potential backlash.
Resources
Q: What one book, poem, piece of art or chapter of writing would you give to your younger self, and why?
A: Oscar Wilde: “Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.”
I’ve had this quote taped to my mirror for the past four years and wish I’d discovered it sooner. Most people are other people. MOST PEOPLE ARE OTHER PEOPLE!! It’s so true it hurts. I think I am terrified of being other people. I’d rather be nothing than other people (a la Harry Dean Stanton).
Join Jessica in the Comments!
How do you feel about the concept of a self? And is it helpful in light of what you write or create in your daily life?
Did anyone ever give you advice like the literary agent who told Jessica she needed 10,000 Instagram followers in order to sell a book one day? What impact did that have you on you?
How’s your writing voice feeling right now?
Sometimes I think social media is the best thing that ever happened to the writing industry because it democratized who gets to have a platform and a voice. And sometimes I think it's the worst thing that ever happened to writers. Not just because it highjacks our voice in the way Jessica so beautifully describes here, but because it released publishers from having to do much of any marketing for authors since we all, supposedly, have the means to do it ourselves. Before I had any real aspirations to be a writer I enjoyed social media. Now, it is a necessary evil of my existence.
This interview series is one of the few bright spots. Thank you, Amanda!
“Beauty products are more often used to create an image of a self than express an existing self.” WHEW. I suppose that’s true of just about anything we’re marketed, or maybe even told. Is it possible to look at all of it from the outside and see if there *is* a self? Probably not. I like to think there’s a self we all have but maybe that’s just an idea I’ve taken on from other people. ;)
When my last book proposal was turned down, the lack of social media came up a lot, especially not having Twitter (I’d deleted my account in early 2018). It’s absolutely absurd but it is still expected in the industry — absurd in part because there is no correlation between the number of social media followers and the success of a book (NYT did a big story about this a couple years ago I think), and also because it really brings into question what the publishing industry is *for*. If they’re not doing the PR, marketing, and sales, then …? I get hung up on this all the time. A lot of the industry seems to be running on mystique.
I love Jessica’s newsletter! I haven’t worn makeup in years and don’t really use any other products, and just love the way she writes about marketing, self-image (!), society, capitalism, and even—related to my work—some of the environmental impacts of all of it. Thank you for this interview!