Doechii Gets Into Character

Doechii is buzzing, blunt and self-assured — but never quite satisfied. She’s an artist, committed to honesty above all, ruthless about her craft and just as competitive as one would expect a former gymnast-to-be. The 26-year-old Tampa-born, LA-based artist has an athlete’s mindset that has given her the know-how to always stick the landing. Whether she’s performing her hit “Persuasive” at the BET awards, giving Everglades glam in her music video for “Alter Ego” with JT or producing a certified smash like “What It Is,” Doechii is the kind of performer who, if music were a team sport, you’d always want beside you. But her barometer for excellence has also given her the license to be her own toughest critic. When asked about her forthcoming single, “MOP,” she pauses before relenting. “Ugh… That’s all I can say about that” — surprising candor, but not necessarily an indictment of the song itself. How many times has Doechii said that word, “ugh,” while on the path to perfection?

Doechii first became known to many through her 2020 single “Yucky Blucky Fruitcake,” a disarmingly direct introduction to what makes her tick. “Hi, my name’s Doechii with two I’s/ I feel anxious when I’m high,” she begins, her voice polished with the formality of a student on the first day of school. Over the course of the six-minute song, Doechii’s voice moves from polite roboticism to a full-on spiral. In its most viral moment, she pauses, coming back in an ominous whisper: “I’m all alone on the deep dark web/ Me and my phone in this queen-sized bed.” Doechii goes on to give a detailed account of masturbation, before the song takes yet another turn. Her mother opens the door and walks in, yelling that she forgot to “take the chicken out,” as the sonics move to psychedelic anxiety funk.

It’s a song, a stage play and altogether very Doechii, who references herself as a “thespian.” Doechii gave herself the name when she was just in middle school and has long used characters, personas, narratives and world-building to express the many sides of her expansive self. “I’m alternative, kind of nerdy, super sexy, kind of awkward, conscious, but also I’m twerking and ass-shaking,” she says. “[I’m] just this ball of everything.”

These days, the persona she’s centering the most is the Swamp Princess, her glamorous reframing of the marshy state she’s from. Draped in camo, topped with a trucker hat and looking muggier than a humid Florida mist, the Swamp Princess is the main character ringing in Doechii’s forthcoming debut album. “There’s something about Florida: it’s this beautiful chaos, down to the people, the way we live, down to the fucking ridiculous laws we have,” Doechii reflects. “I am the future of the sound of Florida,” she offers, before expanding the statement: “I believe I’m the future, because I’m me.”

Here, we announce yet another alter ego: Doechii calls him “Ricardo” and he requires more than four hours of prosthetics. Virile, glistening and blessed with eight-pack abs, Doechii — no, Ricardo — looks at the camera with a steely gaze and grabs his crotch. He looks good on the cover of PAPER’s 40th Anniversary edition and he looks good to Doechii too. “Literally, when I put on the prosthetics, I was like, ‘Oh my god, I’m attracted to myself right now’,” she laughs. I wish I could fuck me.” We’ll get in line, but first we have some questions.

The PAPER cover shoot looks amazing. What was that day like for you, getting into full prosthetics?

The day was super fun. We did a lot of looks, but it didn’t end up feeling that long. It was cool to do the prosthetics. I have been talking about doing prosthetics forever. I wouldn’t shut up about it, so to actually get into the prosthetics was the most exciting moment. It was crazy.

What about that idea was so exciting to you?

Last year, I started seeing comments from people who would say, “She looks like a man.” Or, “She has on too much makeup. She looks like a drag queen.” All these comments never bother me, because I just find it interesting. But I was like, “Since they keep saying I look like a man, I’m gonna fucking give them a man. An eight-pack, mustache man.” That’s what inspired me to do the look and I think it turned out sick.

It’s so good. As a gay guy, I was like, “Hey Doechii, what’s up?”

Literally, when I put on the prosthetics, I was like, “Oh my god, I’m attracted to myself right now. I wish I could fuck me.”

I know you love alter egos and characters. Does he have a name?

I came up with so many names. I was like, “He’s from Panama, he’s bisexual.” We came up with Ricardo. That’s his name.

Love! What do you think has been the importance of personas to you?

The thespian in me has to be fed. It does a lot for my inner-child. I am a theater kid. Playing with characters and coming up with characters has always been a passion of mine. Fashion is more than just flexing, it’s about being creative and telling a story. That’s what this shoot gave me. When I was talking about doing PAPER, I was like, “I want to make sure I can really give different characters, because I think that’s so important in telling stories.”

The Swamp Princess is a huge part of your artistry. Talk about that character and where it fits in the pantheon.

The Swamp Princess is me. She’s the main character. I’m from Tampa. Usually when people think about Florida, they think about Miami. A lot of people assume I’m from Miami, which is a completely different part of Florida. I like to highlight the rougher part of Florida, which is the swamp and the Everglades. The environment is harsh and rough, but it’s also beautiful at the same time. I love that contrast. The Swamp Princess is about highlighting that beautiful area of Florida and claiming the swamp as ultimately mine, and claiming Florida as mine, because I run that shit.

You’ve talked about growing up in Tampa and not always fitting in. Is this your way of reclaiming your hometown and framing it in your own way?

I believe that I am the future of the sound of Florida. I represent it in a way that nobody has represented it before. In a way, I am reclaiming it.

How would you describe how you represent Florida?

As this multifaceted rapper. I’m alternative, kind of nerdy, super sexy, kind of awkward, conscious, but also I’m twerking and ass-shaking. It’s just this ball of everything I represent, down to my aesthetic. I’m bringing something that hasn’t been done before and it’s because I’m me. That’s why I’m bringing something new. I believe I’m the future, because I’m me.

We just had JT as our cover star. I feel like Florida’s in the mix right now. Is there something specific about Florida that produces these really interesting artists like yourself and JT?

Well, first of all: congratulations to JT, because I know her mixtape just dropped and it’s incredible. I think it’s because of the environment that we grew up in. There’s something about Florida: it’s this beautiful chaos, down to the people, the way we live, down to the fucking ridiculous laws that we have. It just produces this chaos. And I think the environment that we grew up in causes you to become this type of person. It’s an indescribable experience.

How did you have the confidence to be raw and honest when you’re getting so much exposure and feedback from the world?

Recently, I’ve refocused on that, because, for a couple of months, especially towards the end of last year, there was a heavy amount of pressure on me to produce another hit single like “What It Is.” Focusing on a hit single caused me to lose my passion for making music just to make it. I started making music with an intention, and I don’t think that that works for me as a creative. So recently, I came to the realization that music is just my therapy, and when I make music from a pure place — just making it for me, and not for radio and not for my fans — when I’m making it for me, I produce my best shit. Now that I’m back on that, it feels amazing.

Is that what the Swamp Sessions — the raps you write in one hour and release alongside a video — are?

That’s exactly what the Swamp Sessions are. That’s how I’ve stayed grounded. I would be lying if I said I’ve been perfect throughout this. I’ve learned a lot about this business. It got to me for a second, but now I’m back to myself and back to remembering why I love this shit. I don’t give a fuck about the hits. I don’t give a fuck about the trends or the radio or what anybody wants. It’s about me.

So many people chase after that hit song, and you got it with “What It Is.” What other lessons did having a hit of that magnitude teach you?

Don’t get me wrong, I make music because I love to make music, but I am very competitive. Growing up, I was a gymnast and a dancer. My mom was a dance mom, so I am highly competitive. We are all artists. We want those accolades and I want them as well, but I realized that once I got the accolade, it was not nearly as orgasmic as making music just for me. Even when I got the plaque, it didn’t feel nearly as good as making music for my therapy and being raw and honest in my music.

You’re also on Top Dawg Entertainment (TDE) and carrying that legacy, too. How has the label been in developing this project?

It’s been up and down, it’s been a lot. They’re really my family. TDE is hip-hop culture. When you think about the core of hip-hop culture, you think about them, even with the beautiful essence of SZA and her R&B. It’s a lot of pressure to live up to, but what they’ve taught me is to put that aside. Don’t worry about that, don’t worry about any pressure living up to anybody’s standard. It’s just about telling your story in the most raw way, and I think all of our artists on the label do that. When we’re honest and they let me create from that space, it works. That’s what I’m seeing right now with my Swamp Sessions. It’s just about being raw and honest and not trying to fit the mold or be perfect.

Were any of your labelmates able to give you any advice through this process?

100%. [Schoolboy] Q has given me a lot of advice and so has SZA. I remember one of the most important things Q told me. I asked him, “When do you know your album is done?” And he told me, “You know your album is done when you have nothing left to say.” That really hit me, and I was like, “Okay, I’m gonna keep writing and pouring my heart into this until I have literally nothing left to say.”

What was the original thought behind Swamp Sessions?

Swamp Sessions was an exercise that I came up with years ago, early in my career. I did “Yucky Blucky Fruitcake” the same way. It’s just an exercise I use as a writer to get out of my head and get into the present moment. It’s not about writing with intention, it’s not about writing for perfection. It’s about writing a song just to write a damn song. So it helps me not take it so seriously, and whatever I get in the hour is what I post. I find that cool because it builds my confidence. I’m like, “Here you go, guys. If you like it, you like it. If you don’t, fuck you.”

In “Swamp Session: Nissan Altima” you name check Carrie Bradshaw. Are you a Carrie?

[Laughs] You know what? I’m like the whole cast mixed together.

But you are the main character, so that’s a bit Carrie, right?

Purr! I guess I am a little bit Carrie.

I heard your next single, “MOP.” How does that fit in this world of your album?

Ugh. That’s all I can say to that if I’m being 100% transparent with you, because I want to keep it so real. Ugh is what I have to say. I’m going to leave that there.

It sounds like there’s a lot of different competing pressures when you’re doing a big release. Is that what I’m hearing?

Sometimes . . . it’s a give and take [laughs].

You have been an amazing dancer from the beginning and are always giving choreo. Have you always been such a dancer like that?

I’ve been dancing for a pretty long time. I was a dancerette in a marching band for a couple of years. And then I started doing this style of choreo when I became an artist. I started working with choreographers, But yeah, I’ve pretty much been dancing all my life.

Something that makes you unique as an artist is that you value the whole spectacle: the dancing, the performance, the release process.

I really enjoy performing a lot. It’s my favorite part. It’s why I do it. My least favorite part is actually being in the studio. I don’t like being in the studio. I like writing by myself, and then I love to perform, and I do all of this for the moment that I’m on stage. It means a lot to me.

You’ve been going so hard for so long. Do you ever take a moment to reflect and take it in?

I do. I take my moments to take it in, and I do that when I’m in my backyard, writing in my journal, butt-ass naked. I just take a moment to be present. I do it when I’m on stage, especially. I take those moments to appreciate life while I’m rapping. In my heart and in my head, in that moment, I’m thanking God for that.

How are you thinking about queerness and representing that aspect of your life in your art?

It’s about telling my story from the lens of being gay, that’s really it. I do that by showing up honestly. It’s not like, “I need to make a song that’s strictly for the gays because I need this community.” It’s nothing like that. Gay people gravitate toward my music and always have, especially since “Yucky Blucky Fruitcake.” This is my fucking community. We’re here, and it’s not just that my friends are gay and we’re making music. My fans: most of them are gay and we get to share these moments. When I went on a Pride tour, it felt comfortable because… I’m going to be so real with you. No shade to straight people at all, but I always feel so serious around them. When I’m around my friends, and most of my friends are gay, we can just be honest and raw. We can even play with each other in certain ways. We can have a certain type of humor without people getting offended. I feel most comfortable in that space, personally.

How do you stay grounded?

Honestly, my family and friends keep me grounded. I keep really good people around me. I have a very small, tight circle. I’m from the South. When you’re from the Deep South, you can’t help but be grounded, because your family is not going to let you forget that you are just a snotty-nosed little girl. They do not treat me like Doechii. They treat me like I’m fucking 10 years old. It’s crazy, bro.

You’re so musically adventurous and blend many different styles. Have you always been that way?

I’ve always gravitated towards different things. I’m a thespian, so I am attracted to a lot of different styles. I’ve worked with a lot of different producers. I’ve had house producers come in, and I can rap on a house beat. I can rap on anything and I can rap about anything. But recently, I’ve been obsessed with old boom bap. I started rapping with boom bap, and so that old boom bap, ’90s type of rap is where I’m headed right now. I’m curious to see where I take this sound and just sit in this for a minute.

We’re in the lead-up to your debut album. What’s the statement you want to make with it?

The album has evolved in so many different ways, but where it is right now is telling the story of who I am and where I am. I’m being very honest about being 26 and how weird that feels and my adolescence, but also being an adult now coming into money early and growing up in Florida… all of these different experiences from the lens of a Black woman. I’m being honest about those things. That’s where the album is right now, and a lot of people are going to relate to the rawness of my life and relationships.

Order Doechii’s special-edition 40th Anniversary zine here

Photography: Sarah Pardini
Styling: Sam Woolf
Hair: Malcolm Marquez
Makeup: Dee Carrion
Nails: Samm Contreras
Set design: Payton Newcomer
Prosthetics: Hatti Rees


Photo assistants: Tom Lipka, Devin Szydlowski
Styling assistants: Juliette Hill, Athina Arostegui, Brandon Yamada
Styling intern: Dayanara Ornelas
Production assistant: Ricardo Diaz
Production intern: Sophia Martinez

Editor-in-chief: Justin Moran
Managing editor: Matt Wille
Editorial producer: Angelina Cantú
Music editor: Erica Campbell
Cover design: Callum Abbott
Story: Tobias Hess
Publisher: Brian Calle

Doechii is buzzing, blunt and self-assured — but never quite satisfied. She’s an artist, committed to honesty above all, ruthless about her craft and just as competitive as one would expect a former gymnast-to-be. The 26-year-old Tampa-born, LA-based artist has an athlete’s mindset that has given her the know-how to always stick the landing. Whether…

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