CULTURE
agent said to me: ‘Peggy, I’ve
been partying for 20 years and
I’ve never seen anything like this,’”
she smiles, almost not quite
believing it herself. “I feel very lucky
to have my crowd.”
Growing up, Gou wanted to be
a singer. Born in Incheon, South
Korea, she would walk around
listening to K-pop and hip-hop on her Walkman.
Her father is a professor and writer, her mother a
businesswoman, but both loved music, singing and
playing the guitar regularly. A classically trained pianist,
she composed her first piece aged eight.
At 14, Gou’s parents sent her to live in London for
school. She stayed, studying styling at London College
of Fashion, and it’s there that her love for music resurfaced
- thanks to nights out at Soho’s hedonistic Cirque le Soir.
She was soon asked if she’d like to play. “Girl DJs
weren’t common [then]; maybe they wanted some fresh
faces,” she shrugs. “I was so nervous for my first gig. In
Korea, I never listened to house music – it was all EDM.”
After her degree, Gou applied to music school – but
her visa was rejected by the UK government, so in 2014
she moved to Berlin, the (unofficial) techno capital of the
world. “My mum was like: ‘We’ve already spent money
on fashion school, what next?’ But I said, ‘Please, if I fail,
I’ll come back. Just give me one more year.’ Asian
parents are very strict. They didn’t want me to be a
doctor, but they certainly didn’t want me to be a DJ.”
Luckily, things did work out – and fast. By the end of
2016, she’d released an impressive four EPs (including
the breakthrough Seek For Maktoop on record label
Ninja Tune’s imprint Technicolour). After racking up
support slots for The Black Madonna and DJ Koze, Gou
began her own relentless campaign of gigs.
Does the punishing schedule take its toll? “Of course,”
she says. In the past Gou has struggled with depression
and anxiety, so pays attention to taking care of herself:
“One time I did four gigs, in four different cities, in one
day. I realised I couldn’t carry on.” Now she does
“meditation and breathing exercises. I also try to be
healthy. My rider has changed, too, from gin and tonic
to coconut water and fresh juice. I’d been drinking a lot.
Well, not a lot, but I’m Asian, so three [drinks] is enough
for me.” In her spare time she goes to the gym, sees
friends or draws. She needs the downtime, she says,
because her brain never stops.
“If I POST a
PICTURE in a
BIKINI, PEOPLE
COMMENT,
‘ARE YOU
STILL a DJ?’”At first, like most DJs, Gou dressed
solely in black T-shirts for gigs. It’s
almost an unspoken social rule in
dance music, and she thought it would
demonstrate that “I knew my stuff.”
She’s since relaxed and embraced
her fashion background. As Gou puts it: “I don’t need to
prove myself.” Today, you’ll find her in everything from
fluffy Acne jackets to pink Miu Miu hats. “If I post a picture
of myself in a bikini, people comment, asking, ‘Are you
still a DJ?’” she says. “They give me shit. In the end, I say
[those people have] ‘Small Dick Problem’. Can’t DJs
wear swimsuits? I want to look good and there’s nothing
wrong with that.”
As it turns out, having a distinct look has been her USP.
While playing at an Off-White x Mytheresa party in
London in 2017, she was spotted by the brand’s founder
Virgil Abloh. Afterwards, New Guards Group (NGG),
the parent company of Off-White,
got in touch and asked Gou to
create a fashion brand. The result is
Kirin (that’s “giraffe” in Korean): a
high-end streetwear label launching
later this year. Gou says Abloh has
been “very supportive”.
Every profile of Gou mentions
that, as a DJ, she had one major
goal: to be the first Korean woman
to play Berghain. But Gou was
always going to be the first Korean
woman to play Berghain. She is
incredibly self-assured, intuitive and
knows exactly what she wants.
Take, for example, the fact that she
doesn’t have a manager – despite
being one of the most in-demand
DJs in the world. “I don’t like it when
people tell me what to do,” she
says, simply. In addition to her
fashion line, this year she’s working
on a “killer” debut album (“maybe
I’ll rap, who knows?”), a live set and
setting up her own music label.
But this is only the start. “I have
plans,” she says. “I don’t consider
myself just a DJ – I can be more than
that. I’ve found what I’m meant to do,
and I want to do everything.” EDOLORES
LAUREN AIMEE CURTIS
At a very digestible length of just
over 100 pages, the debut novel
from Australian author Lauren
Aimee Curtis, Dolores, promises
to steal your attention away from
the dreaded scroll (even for an
hour) with the mysterious tale of
a teenage girl who winds up
pregnant and at a convent.
Renamed Dolores by the
nuns who take her in, the girl’s
backstory is unveiled through
lyrical and compelling prose,
which switches from her life back
in her hometown – and the teen
romances, telenovelas and
encounters in “love motels” that
colour her days – and her new
life in the convent, punctuated by
run-ins with unfriendly nuns and
“new girls” who come to reside
there under similar circumstances.
We’re tipping big things
to come from Curtis.
Out July 23 ($24.95,
Weidenfeld & Nicolson)BOOK OF THE MONTH@peggygou_