1. Hi Bossi! Please introduce yourself to those who might not know you.
I’m Bossi—an LA-based singer, songwriter, and poet making feminist rock you can sing in the car and think deeply about later. My work blends sharp, punk-poet storytelling with a little theatrical mischief, and I’m currently touring my album Tell All the Other Girls, which reimagines classic myths and modern womanhood through a louder, less apologetic lens. I also run House of Bossi with my husband Nico out of our home. It’s an arts residency and performance space where we bring together musicians, writers, visual artists and activists to build community and spark conversation. If you’re into music that’s equal parts catharsis and rebellion, you’ll probably like what I do.
‍‍
2. How did your connection with Shira and Gritty In Pink come about?
I met Shira through my amazing band-mate, Lisa Bianco. Lisa is the music director for Gritty and mentioned the organization to me. I went to one of their all girl jams and have been hooked ever since! I loved seeing so many women rocking out on stage together! And Shira is truly such a badass, energy driven entrepreneur! I am constantly inspired by her!
‍
3. When did you first realize music was your path? Was there a specific moment or influence that solidified being an artist as your dream?
Music has been woven into my life for as long as I can remember. My mom and grandmother were both public-school music teachers—my grandmother also led the music program at her church—so I grew up in choirs, musicals, piano recitals… it was the air we breathed. But the moment I realized music was my path came my senior year of high school. A close friend’s brother died by suicide, and in the middle of all that grief I sat down at the piano and wrote my first song. When I eventually played the recording for my dad, he left the room in tears. That was the first time I understood how deeply music can move people, and something in me clicked.

I studied theater at Northwestern but kept training in music, and when I moved to New York after graduating, I joined a band, started writing more seriously, and fell headlong into it. A few years later, life pulled me in another direction and I built a career in hospitality marketing. But five years ago—after my second battle with breast cancer—I returned to my artistry full-time and never looked back. Coming home to music felt like reclaiming a part of myself I had put on hold, and I’ve been following that path with everything I have ever since.
‍
4. What's it like to be a part of the effort to create a supportive community for a set of diverse women in the music industry? 
It’s one of the most meaningful parts of what I do. Being a woman in the music industry—especially as an independent artist—can feel isolating, so any space that prioritizes community over competition is invaluable. That’s what I love about Gritty in Pink: they’re not just talking about empowering women, they’re actively building the infrastructure for it. From their network of women across every corner of the industry to the quarterly all-girl jams they host, they create real opportunities for connection and visibility.

Through House of Bossi, my live shows, and even my Finishing School series, I’ve met so many artists who are craving exactly that: a place to show up fully, share resources, and celebrate each other’s wins. What’s beautiful is that the more honest I am in my own work, the more it seems to open the door for other women to be honest in theirs. Being part of this larger ecosystem—alongside organizations like Gritty in Pink—feels like helping shape the industry we want to inherit: collaborative, loud, generous, and deeply supportive.
‍
5. Your latest album Tell All the Other Girls dropped in September – what’s the story behind the title, and what can fans expect from this next chapter of Bossi?
"Tell All the Other Girls" comes from a lyric in my song “Cassandra,” and it speaks to the stories we inherit—the ones that shape how we see ourselves, and the ones that either put a ceiling over our heads or open a sky above us. The album explores both sides: the myths that boxed women in for centuries, and the women who’ve learned to break those stories open and write their own, entirely unruly fairytale of a life. Fans can expect bigger shows, more storytelling, and a world that expands in every direction: from the music to the visual work to the Finishing School series. It’s all part of creating a space where women get to take up the full frame.
‍
6. Can you share a song or moment from creating Tell All the Other Girls that  sums up what this record is about?
One of the moments that sums up the whole record happened while I was writing “Run Baby Run.” I remember sitting with the feeling that so many women carry—the sense that the world expects our compliance long before it earns our trust. Especially against the current backdrop of rising authoritarianism and misogyny. That song was the last one I wrote and it became the lead single of the album: this insistence on breaking out of the narratives we’re handed and choosing something braver, louder, and more self-defined.

7. You’re known for having uplifting and socially conscious lyrics, how do you balance those two sides in your songwriting?  Is there a certain topic you haven’t touched upon yet, that you’d like to?
For me, the uplifting and the socially conscious aren’t two different lanes—they’re the same pulse. I write about the world the way it actually feels to live in it as a woman: the fear, the fury, the humor, the hope. The trick, for me, is honoring the weight of a topic without letting it flatten the humanity inside it. If a song doesn’t leave a little room for light—whether that’s joy, defiance, or a joke sharp enough to draw blood—I know I’m not done writing yet. In general as a human and as an artist, I’m driven by hope because it’s active. It’s a choice to light a candle in the darkness.

Now that Tell All the Other Girls is out in the world, I’m settling back into the writing process with a different kind of curiosity. I’m drawn to exploring this moment we’re living through in America—how we got here, what’s true beneath all the noise, and where we find meaning when everything feels destabilized. I’m also thinking a lot about how women keep expanding their power in the face of aging, misogyny, and the constant pressure to disappear. There’s something potent in naming those realities while also insisting on joy, agency, and a life that keeps getting bigger. That’s the territory I’m excited to write into next.

8. Back in 2023, you announced that you’d be funding your album through crowdfunding, and you’ve been building it independently ever since. Now that the project is finally out in the world, what has this whole journey taught you about your artistry and your community?
I was genuinely terrified to crowdfund this album. Asking people to support you—financially, emotionally, artistically—requires a kind of vulnerability that most artists aren’t taught to be comfortable with. But what I discovered is that it made the project feel more communal, more alive. I had people contribute $25 and people contribute a few thousand, and I was just as moved by the smaller gifts because I knew how meaningful that investment was for them. They gave anyway. That kind of trust changes you.

By the time I went into the studio, and later into the whirlwind of release and marketing, I felt this deeper responsibility—not pressure, but purpose—to make something worthy of the community that helped build it. It pushed me to give everything I had, and it reminded me that independent doesn’t mean alone. This album exists because a whole ecosystem believed in it with me, and I carry that pride with me every day.
‍
9. What’s something about releasing an album independently that you think people underestimate?
People really underestimate how much of independent artistry isn’t making music. Writing and recording is maybe twenty percent of the job. The rest is marketing, digital ads, CRM, project management, show promotion, admin work, video production, creative direction—an entire ecosystem you’re running on razor-thin budgets. It’s a lot of hats for one head.
But I’m someone who genuinely loves shaping the bigger creative vision, so most of that work feels like an extension of the art itself. If I could ditch one thing, though? Show promotion. I would happily hand that over to literally anyone else.
‍
10. You’ve been creating some really clever, standout content with your series Bossi’s Finishing School for Difficult Women. What sparked the idea for that?
Thank you so much! I’m having the best time making that series. The idea arrived a couple of weeks before the album dropped, when I was looking for a way to talk about the record’s feminist themes while also diving into current events with a little humor and a lot of attitude. It was also inspired by the persona in my song “Monster in Me,” which uses satire to explore really heavy subject matter.

I’ve realized that I think of myself as a storyteller first—music just happens to be my primary medium right now. But anyone who’s been to my shows knows I weave in poetry, mini-monologues, and a bit of theater, and I’m also a visual artist. Each form reaches people differently, and the Finishing School series has been this wonderful playground to channel some of the rage I know many of us are feeling.
‍
11. Which artists helped shape you as an artist musically or aesthetically?
Visually, I’ve always been shaped by great chameleons and big shoulders—David Bowie, David Byrne, Blondie, Annie Lennox. Artists who weren’t afraid to build whole worlds around their music. Musically, it’s harder to pin down because I grew up absorbing everything from Bruce Springsteen to Whitney Houston to Radiohead and Green Day. My taste has always been eclectic, but I care deeply about melody and lyrics, so the ‘90s were hugely formative. Today, I’m especially inspired by the poetry and grit of Patti Smith, the irreverent sass of Wet Leg, the rock-and-roll punch of Yungblud, and the theatrical storytelling of Jake Wesley Rogers.

I’ve also been inspired by a handful of indie artists in my midst: Kat Cunning’s world-building power, Annabel Lee’s feral performances, and Milck plus Raye Zaragoza’s activism. They all remind me that music can be a full-body statement that shapes the world.
‍
12.  If you could collaborate with any artist, past or present, who would it be?
Do I have to pick just one? It feels impossible. But if I’m honest, the idea of a collaboration between The Boss and Bossi might actually make me pass out. Springsteen’s storytelling and stamina are legendary, and getting to trade lines or build a world with him would be a career-defining, “someone pinch me” moment.
‍
13. What would the movie of your life  story be called, and who’s starring as each of you?
If my life were a film, it would be called Tell All the Other Girls—a story about making art loud enough to drown out the voices that tell women to quiet down. I think I’d cast Riley Keough to play me; she has the kind of grounded intensity and no-nonsense presence that could carry both the rage and the tenderness behind the work. Nico would be played by Pedro Pascal, because he understands the beautiful chaos of building a life around art and community. And Cate Blanchett would appear as the heightened, satirical version of me—Headmistress Bossi—sweeping through scenes with a raised brow and a fan that doubles as a warning label. At its core, the film would be about carving out a space big enough for other women to step into, unafraid, and reminding them that their loudest, truest voice is the one worth trusting.

14. What’s a musical achievement from this past year that you’re proud of?
There were so many meaningful milestones this year. Releasing a full-length album is huge on its own, but getting to press it to vinyl—with a double gatefold, lyric sheets, and original artwork—felt like bringing the world of the record to life in a tangible way. I’m also incredibly proud of being featured in LA Weekly and stepping onto the iconic stage at The Viper Room. Each of those moments reminded me that independent artistry can create its own momentum if you keep showing up for the work.

15. What’s next?
Next up, I’m expanding the world around Tell All the Other Girls. I’ve got more shows on the way, new episodes of Bossi’s Finishing School, and a handful of visual projects that I’m really excited about. I’m also easing back into writing again—thinking about where we are as a country, what women are carrying, and what it means to make art that feels both honest and hopeful. The next chapter is about building community, growing the live show, and creating work that keeps pushing the conversation forward. And if all goes well, there may be some new music taking shape sooner than people expect.
‍