Outwardly, I’m about as rock ‘n’ roll as a microwave instruction manual. I have the hairstyle of a Baptist preacher’s daughter and I prefer sea foam silk over black leather. But, I like my music how I like my concrete: heavy and gritty. Stuff like Nirvana. Deftones. Incubus. The paradox goes back to when I was eight years old doing my favorite ballerina puzzle, Linkin Park roaring through my yellow walkman. I hadn’t realized that tutus and Chester Bennington’s screams made for a weird combo.  

It may seem like a fashion blog and heavy rock wouldn’t, in the words of Cher Horowitz, mesh well. Maybe it feels odd to imagine reading the Sunday Styles at 8am sipping matcha, then blasting one’s ears out to Rage Against The Machine later that night. But to me, there’s one thing tying those choices together: autonomy. I like what I like regardless of its congruity with the rest of my sensibilities. I want to celebrate the inconsistent with you. Welcome to the latest series atop The Pile: A Pretty Princess Guide to Music. A reminder that we can be sweet, delicate, even innocent beings who also enjoy vicious, dirty tunes. Enjoy.

First up in the Pretty Princess Guide to Music: The Dead Weather. Now, something I won’t do in this series is describe the band’s sound. I don’t see the point in that. What I will do is tell you what I like about the music and under which circumstances I usually listen to it.

My love for The Dead Weather transcends its instruments because of one person: Alison Mosshart. I don’t have many heros, but she’s one of them. With embarrassing regularity, I peruse her Youtube interviews and live performances. This one’s my favorite, lately. Of course, I don’t know her personally and can’t say this for certain, but Mosshart seems like the kind of person who lives life on her terms. I watch her perform live when I feel petty issues holding back my focus.

Similarly, I listen to The Dead Weather when I want to get in a nice creative groove. Somehow, it seems to transport me away from the banalities of life. It has an incendiary quality that I can’t find many other places. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I also listen to them when I cook.

Whenever I have this music on, I try to put my phone away and have a Word document or a sketch pad open nearby. Does the brain good to combust once in a while.

Without further ado, here’s your very own The Dead Weather playlist, made by your favorite Garbage Lady.