Miami is just really fun whenever I go there. It's like this post-apocalyptic Barbie world: everything is pink, and there're palm trees everywhere. But then there are also all these people in crazy sunglasses, warehouses with sick parties where all the girls are covered in spikes and black leather. It's a very weird place.

I cry really easily. If I see a butterfly, I'll practically burst into tears. So it's really hard for me to yell at people, because I'll feel so guilty about it. But if I don't, then they don't take me seriously and it's this endless cycle.

Fashion can be a really powerful tool, but it's also a place where you can be totally humiliated and have your power taken from you.

I'm a very unhealthy person, and Montreal is very cold, and I'm usually sick when I'm there.

My great fear is that I'm the ultimate shallow person. I think about this kind of thing a lot, and about this phenomenon in our culture where people identify themselves with their interests. I've been trying not to think about it too much. It used to really upset me when people called me "witch house."

I write music better in the winter, I prefer making music when it's dark.

It's kind of like I'm Phil Spector and I'm forcing a young girl to make pop music and perform exhaustively. Except, instead of it being someone else, that girl is also me.