Caroline Kingsbury22 Images
There’s something deliciously defiant about Caroline Kingsbury’s approach to pop music. Through the holographic lens of 80s maximalism and New Romantic flair, she creates songs that are “emotional, percussive, and dramatic”, born from breaking free of the conservative constraints of her Southern evangelical upbringing.
“I grew up in Florida, which is a complicated place,” Kingsbury tells me from her bedroom, where we chat while she eats cereal. “The culture of evangelical Christianity is about pushing down the self to make more room for Jesus. That was the theme from a young age.” In a world where make-up could “lead a man to stumble and sin” and self-expression took a backseat to scripture, music became her escape route. “It was the first thing that felt like it was mine,” she says.
Coming out in her early twenties led to a metamorphosis, one that revels in the references she was denied as a child. From 80s pop synths to maximalist make-up looks, Kingsbury is creating the kind of representation she never had growing up. In indulging her inner-child she’s carving out space for the next generation to grow up in a world of full-spectrum colour – embracing all that they are. Her latest EP, I Really Don’t Care, which is reaching new heights after regular features on Chappell Roan’s Spotify radio playlists, channels the same spirit, with tracks dealing with everything from complicated father-daughter relationships to sapphic break-up ballads.
This spectrum – of joy and fear, expression and alienation – runs from her music to her visual identity. Kingsbury’s signature look, a sweep of electric blue eyeshadow extending to the hairline, paired with bubblegum blush and a bold lip, nods to the New Romantic movement while making its own contemporary statement about gender and performance.
“Our identity is being politicised,” she tells me over Zoom, discussing the current climate for queer artists in America. “It’s mostly an attack on trans people, but our whole community is being politicised. The reaction of going in this bold, expressive direction is a direct correlation. That’s what happened in the 80s too… They want to turn the volume down on us. But when you’re creating the looks we’re creating, you can’t turn it down.”
Can you tell me about your personal journey with music – how did you get here today?
Caroline Kingsbury: I grew up in the South, specifically Florida, in an evangelical Christian environment. I always loved writing, I wrote a fake novel about the Titanic when I was ten. When I was 12, music became my first real form of self-expression, I was doing it through the church and outside of that, everyone was into folky stuff like the Lumineers. I was wearing a lot of flannel, and I always felt bored. Then I moved to Nashville for college but dropped out after a year when my brother got cancer. My world crashed – I stopped being a Christian, quit school, and years went by. I was dating men and wasn’t out, not even to myself, even though my first kiss was with a girl when I was 12.
Everything really changed when I moved to LA at 22. That’s when I started discovering who I really was, both musically and personally. I know it’s a cliché but it was like opening a portal to a whole new universe with all of these colourful creative beings – it blew my mind. That’s when I started accepting myself as a queer person, discovering what I like to do, wear, and who I like to kiss was liberating. I’ve been playing live music for about ten years now, but things really started working when I stepped into my full, unfiltered self. It’s a nice reminder from the universe that when we let go and allow ourselves to be messy, people are naturally attracted to that.
Your aesthetic draws heavily from the New Romantics and 80s culture. Where did these influences come from?
Caroline Kingsbury: I really had to work my way backwards. I just wasn’t exposed to these kinds of references growing up. The Killers were my gateway – their early work had that New Romantic style, and I really identified with Brandon Flowers’ voice. When I moved to LA and started recording on my own, I was trying to achieve a certain sound and I researched until I landed in the 80s. Now when I create my looks, I pull up pictures of Cyndi Lauper, she would do this amazing long eyeshadow all the way to the back of the hairline and the blush! The blush! Also David Bowie too, because he would do the New Romantic white face, the blush, very doll-like, kind of clown-like.
Tell me about your make-up journey and how your beauty looks have evolved.
Caroline Kingsbury: I didn’t wear make-up until I was 23 because in my church it was considered immoral or vain. I had a boyfriend in early adulthood and I wore red lipstick one time. He was like, ‘Whoa, why are you wearing red lipstick?’… It was this whole fight. It made me feel so bad about myself. I felt so misunderstood and shamed.
Once I got over that mindset, I started exploring what felt good for me. What makes me excited to look in the mirror and be like, oh, this is so fun? It’s like being at a sleepover when you were a little kid and you would do each other’s make-up. What makes me excited? It’s also a new version of sexy for myself. I like my bare-faced Florida girl vibes, but I also feel empowered in my sexuality and my expression when I paint myself. I began with drugstore products, experimenting with colourful winged eyeliner. I’m not really concerned with perfection – I just throw it on if it feels good. It took time to overcome the trauma around appearance and make-up. People assume I’ve been doing this forever, but it’s only been about six or seven years.
For so long, when I was growing up, it wasn’t a thing to be a gay pop star. It felt like really beautiful divine timing that this wave of sapphic pop renaissance is lining up with my life and my acceptance of myself – Caroline Kingsbury
You’ve written not just about creating a safe space for yourself but becoming a safe space for yourself. What does that mean to you?
Caroline Kingsbury: It’s about embodying the full spectrum of who I am. Sometimes I’m just in casual ‘Florida girl’ mode with my baggy tee, no make-up and flip flops, and other times I’m in full glam. It’s playful – I don’t feel pressure to fully embody one persona all the time. Growing up, that sort of duality was squashed in me because of constant monitoring and censoring. I had so much to overcome mentally to get to today, being 29. Now, I can honour all aspects of my humanity.
Fans have already started recreating your looks – what is the signature Caroline Kingsbury product or beauty mark?
Caroline Kingsbury: The easiest way is to use liquid eyeshadow and do a big coloured wing right up to your hair line. Add some glitter if you want. I use About Face products because they’re really waterproof, which is essential for performing. It takes less than five minutes – I can’t do anything too complicated because I get bored or distracted due to my ADHD. All of my looks are super spontaneous.
How does the story you want to tell with your music intertwine with the story you tell through beauty?
Caroline Kingsbury: The 80s influence connects both – it’s about being emotionally charged while still being goofy and fun. When I landed on the new wave, New Romantics expression with both colour and maximalism, but with an undercurrent of sadness and political resonance, everything clicked. It’s about being expressive in a world that can be really scary, especially as a queer person in America right now. The louder, more colourful presence is almost a response to attempts to push down femininity and queerness. For so long, when I was growing up, it wasn’t a thing to be a gay pop star. It felt like really beautiful divine timing that this wave of sapphic pop renaissance is lining up with my life and my acceptance of myself.
Caroline Kingsbury’s new EP “I Really Don’t Care” is out now.
