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Glitzy Von Jagger's "Ooh Est Mon Père" is Here and We Connected with them for an Unforgettable Conversation


ARTIST - The Cage, a music blog powered by Cage Riot
 Photos provided by: Glitzy Von Jagger

By: Staff

 

Glitzy Von Jagger's "Ooh Est Mon Père" is a mesmerizing fusion of audacity, glamour, and raw emotion.


We’re beyond excited to introduce "Ooh Est Mon Père", the latest offering from the enigmatic and bold force that is Glitzy Von Jagger. This song is nothing short of a spectacle, an intoxicating blend of French yé-yé and unapologetically queer pop aesthetics that leave you both mesmerized and wanting more. But the magic doesn’t stop with the music. Glitzy has woven something truly cinematic, a piece of art that blurs the line between music, fashion, and performance.


So, what inspired this dazzling creation? How does Glitzy continue to merge personal experiences with provocative, boundary-pushing creativity? What happens when you turn raw emotion into bold, glamorous art? Well, we talked with Glitzy Von Jagger for a deep dive into the creative journey behind Ooh Est Mon Père, and trust us, you won’t want to miss a word. Let’s get into it…



NAME - The Cage, a music blog powered by Cage Riot


Here’s how it went:



Begin Interview:


Hello Glitzy Von Jagger, we’re thrilled to have you here for this interview! We've had an amazing time exploring your music and diving into your creative journey. Now, we’re even more intrigued to get a deeper look into both your brand and your personal and professional inspirations.



Q. What is the origin and meaning behind your beautiful name, Glitzy Von Jagger?

A. I wanted a name that sounded like a disco ball crashed into a rock concert. “Glitzy” is all about sparkle, drama, and the joy of being extra. “Von Jagger” came from a fantasy—somewhere between faded European royalty and a swaggering rock goddess. It’s a name that lets me take up space and cause a scene, which is kind of the point.



Q. We all know how beautifully you sing, and we love it! When did you discover your voice, and what was the turning point in your life that led you from singing in the mirror to singing in professional recording settings?

A. Thank you, that means a lot. I was always singing—karaoke, theatre school, Spice Girl hairbrush concerts in the bedroom. But the turning point came when I stopped trying to sound like other people and just let myself sing how I naturally do. There was a shift from performance to expression. Recording my own music for the first time felt like finding my voice properly, not just using it.



Q. “Ooh Est Mon Père” brings together the glamour of French yé-yé and your unapologetically queer pop aesthetic. How do you balance those seemingly contrasting influences, and which one speaks to you more deeply when you’re in a vulnerable creative space?

A. I balance them the same way I balance platform heels and emotional baggage—with commitment and a lot of heavy duty tape. They might seem contrasting, but for me they’re soulmates—both camp, both defiant. French yé-yé is flirty and cheeky, but there’s an ache behind the wink. Queer pop has always embraced transformation and survival through performance. In my most vulnerable moments, it’s the glamour that saves me. Not because I’m hiding—but because I’m reframing the pain into something fabulous darling!



Q. It’s hard not to love how your music often turns trauma and personal chaos into something bold and unapologetic. It feels like at least we have that to throw back at them, right!? How do you approach turning such raw emotions into art that can still feel glamorous and playful, like in “Ooh Est Mon Père”?

A. Glamour doesn’t mean you’re not hurting; it means you’re refusing to let the pain win without at least getting a good photo out of it. And honestly, I alchemise. That’s what drag and songwriting both do—turn shame into sequins. Sometimes the emotion comes first in a messy journal entry or a crying-in-the-shower melody. Other times, it’s me laughing at my own heartbreak and going “Right, how do I make this a banger?” I don’t believe you need to fully process pain to make art—sometimes the chaos itself is the material.



Q. Given your West End background, how has your theatrical training influenced your music, especially in a track like this that feels like a performance piece as much as a song?

A. Theatre taught me how to tell a story through breath, stillness, movement—how to live inside a character. That training comes into every song I write. Even if it’s personal, there’s always a sense of scene and drama. Ooh Est Mon Père feels like a little one-act play. My music always ends up being part song, part confessional, part theatre. I approach songwriting like a monologue: what’s the moment, what’s the shift, and how can I make people gasp? Bonus points if someone cries into a cocktail



Q. You’ve mentioned “lost fathers becoming legends” in the track. Can you tell us more about the role that fatherhood—or the absence of it—has played in your personal journey and how it informs your art?

A. Ah, Daddy Issues: The Musical. I grew up without a strong father figure, so I invented one. He was tall, mysterious, probably wore leather trousers. The reality was… less poetic. But that absence taught me how to mythologise pain, which is basically my whole job now. If I could give advice to new dads? Show up. Ask questions. Learn to braid hair. And never block your kid on Instagram. The absence of a father shaped me just as much as having one might have. I turned him into a myth in my head—some legendary figure I’d meet one day who’d explain everything. But he didn’t. And that gap, that silence, pushed me to create my own story. That shows up in my work all the time: longing, reinvention, defiance. If I can give anyone advice on how to “be better” as a father, I’d say this: show up. Be curious. Love loudly.



Q. Your French bilingual vocals have this breathy, seductive quality, almost as if you’re whispering a secret. What drew you to using both English and French in “Ooh Est Mon Père”?

A. Language is intimacy. French lets me slip into a different emotional skin.

French makes everything sound more seductive—even existential crises. The song is sexy. Just… sad sexy. I used it to add intimacy and distance at the same time, which suited the song’s heartbreak-meets-haute-couture vibe. Plus, if I’m crying in French, I might still get booked in Paris Fashion Week.

There’s something cheeky about slipping between languages, especially when you’re talking about someone ghosting you on social media. It’s also a reclamation of my French heritage with a big Fudge you to Papa!



Q. The blend of glam-rock with French sleaze feels like an homage to a very specific moment in pop culture. Who were some of the unexpected figures or moments in music and fashion that influenced the aesthetic of this release?

A. Oh goddess —Amanda Lear whispering over synths. Jane Birkin dropping cigarettes into her wine. Courtney Love in torn lace. And every weird late-night Euro music video from the ‘90s that scarred me in the best way. I wanted it to feel like a fever dream on a velvet chaise longue. Early Madonna trying to speak French on talk shows—there’s a ridiculous beauty to those moments. I wanted this track to feel like a love letter to that chaos.



Q. There’s something inherently cinematic about “Ooh Est Mon Père.” If you could turn this song into a full feature film, who would you choose to play your role?

A. If it’s a drama: Tilda Swinton. If it’s a dark comedy: Kristen Wiig in a blonde bob. If it’s animated: voiced by Jinkx Monsoon and dressed by Mugler. Honestly, I’d probably just play myself—who else would agree to cry in French and wear five wigs per scene? Lol.



Q. How does drag help you explore and redefine gender, especially in vulnerable creative moments?

A. Drag gives me freedom. Drag lets me break every rule I was taught about who I should be. Drag lets me play with gender like it’s a moodboard. It’s liberation in a lip gloss (Huda Beauty Bombshell, really is that girl!) When I’m most vulnerable, Glitzy gives me a way to express that pain without fear—because she’s fearless. She can cry in rhinestones and still command a stage. It lets me exaggerate, distort, reclaim. When I’m creating something personal, drag helps me hold it with both reverence and ridiculousness. I can be raw and theatrical at the same time—it lets me process things while also performing them.



Q. How do you manage vulnerability in such a public role and protect your emotional boundaries?

A. I have ADHD so I’m naturally an over sharer and very open, however I’m

at a place in my life where protecting my peace is paramount. If I see red flags I’m out, life is too precious. And I check in with myself constantly—if something feels too raw, I wait. Or I write it into a song and put it in a wig. Yoga and Therapy help, I’d recommend both to all. The block button helps with the gammons.



Q. Is it hard to separate personal healing from the art you create, or does it empower you?

A. It definitely empowers me. Sometimes the art is the healing. But I’ve also learned not to rush that process. Not everything needs to be turned into a song immediately. Some things take time to find their shape,



Q. Many artists hit a few walls along the way. Have there been times when you questioned continuing with music? What helped you stay committed to your path?

A. Of course. There’ve been times where I’ve thought, “What am I even doing?” But music keeps calling me back. It’s the thing that has always healed me and always been there for me my entire life, it’s truly a calling. Even when I’ve stepped away, the ideas keep coming. What’s kept me going? Other queer artists. The people who send me messages saying a song helped them through something. That’s the fuel.



Q. What are your top three dream venues to perform at?

A. I can only pick three?!!! KoKo in Camden is just such a vibe, I saw Lady GaGa’s first London show there, I was at the front and the paws have been firmly up since. KoKo is grungy, chic and theatrical at the same time, it’d be a good fit. Gotta be Glastonbury next, the energy in that crowd is electric, I saw the Stones (my name sake there) and they transported us, holding space for performance is something that I value, creating moments of magic, connection and abandonment of self, its shamanic. Glasto would be wild, the energy transference! Sydney Opera House in a Westwood rock bustle fantasy, with a full orchestra and just imagine the lighting! Wait I want one more, a late-night Berlin club with no rules, no curfew, and questionable lighting. If it smells like glitter and bad decisions, I’m home.



Q. Outside of music, who or what has had the biggest influence on your personal growth or artistic perspective?

A. My chosen family. My dog. Pop Culture. Always trusting and following up on my intuition. The mirror honestly, trying to be better, saying, doing and creating with intention. And probably YouTube rabbit holes about queer history and 90s fashion. It’s all connected.



Q. What do you want people to remember most about you after hearing this song and reading this interview?

A. That it’s okay to be messy. That heartbreak and glamour can exist in the same breath. And that you don’t need anyone’s permission to turn your life into a story worth telling.



Q. And finally, what’s next? Can you give us the inside scoop on your upcoming projects?

A. There’s a follow-up brewing that’s a bit dustier, a bit more romantic… let’s just say Balladeer might be riding into town soon. I’m also leaning into storytelling in new ways—bigger visuals, deeper themes, more drama. But for now, I’m just loving seeing people connect with Ooh Est Mon Père. That’s the real magic. And I promise: it’s only getting juicier from here. Thanks, this was fun!



Glitzy Von Jagger, thank you so much, we appreciate you taking the time to talk to us!



End Interview



We’re happy to have shared Glitzy Von Jagger’s exciting journey with you and uncovered such inspiring insights about their creative process.



Now, click the links below to experience their incredible work firsthand!












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