Krissy Diggs posts illustrations on Instagram, where she has a lot of followers but doesn’t make a big deal about it. She first achieved internet fame in the late 2000s making videos as That Chick With the Goggles for what would become Channel Awesome, and briefly produced her own Youtube show, Challenge Accepted!!! Her art has been featured in exhibitions, on concert posters, a novel cover, and a Japanese beer label, and she’s worked as a waitress, an art director for a major cellular company, and an English teacher in Kanazawa, Japan.
Krissy and I first collaborated in 2019 when she shared some of her drawings with the TRAM zine in nearby Toyama. When pandemic restrictions eased up I took the train out to meet her in Kanazawa, where we enjoyed a lunch of hanton rice and she shared her insights on the Day Job life.
I. I Just Thought of It as Fun
But I Also Have a Day Job: So when did you join Instagram?
Krissy Diggs: I was an early adapter, so I joined when it was a new thing. When I first started I never took it seriously as a platform to share art or anything. I was kind of using it the way everyone else was—sharing pictures of food, etc. I tend to have my name on all of my handles because I get in early enough. I have that for Twitter, Instagram, and I think TikTok too. I don’t know how to do TikTok, but I’m trying to learn.
BIAHADJ: What makes it challenging?
KD: It’s just a lot more work. You have to edit. I have a lot of respect for people who are really prolific there because you have to condense so much information. I feel old when I’m using TikTok. [laughs]
BIAHADJ:I feel that too—anytime a new social media platform comes out I always feel old. How did you get involved with Channel Awesome back in the day?
KD: I started talking to Benzaie, and he was making Youtube videos, and I thought, Maybe I can try doing this. So I became friends with that group of people—Benzaie, Spoony, Rollo T, Angry Joe, Jew Wario, lots of other people we collaborated with. We used to have these big Skype calls—we would just talk about stuff. One thing led to another, and I decided I’d try to make videos. I used to work this internship in high school where we taught videography to kids in the inner city, so I knew a lot about film and how to edit.
BIAHADJ: That’s very cool that you were able to pick up those skills in the late 2000s.
KD: I knew they were looking for more talent for Channel Awesome—it wasn’t called that back then, just That Guy With the Glasses. They came up with this idea for doing this contest for the Nostalgia Chick, and what a lot of people don’t know is that it was never really a contest—we were all going to be on the website anyway.
BIAHADJ: That definitely wasn’t on your Fandom Wiki page that I read when preparing for this interview.
KD: No, I think a lot of people don’t realize that. It was Marzgurl, Lindsey [Ellis], and me, and when it came down to it we were just like, yeah, it’s going to be us. My Sailor Moon video as That Chick With the Goggles was my Nostalgia Chick entry.
BIAHADJ: How old were you at the time?
KD: I was in university, so maybe 19 or 20? At the time no one was really making money doing Youtube specifically, and my mom passed away when I was in university, so when that happened I felt like I had to focus on school. I was the first person in my family to go to university, so I felt a lot of pressure to finish.
BIAHADJ: Pressure from family members, or from yourself?
KD: Both. My mom really wanted me to finish, and then she passed, and wanting me to finish was something she told me specifically, so I felt like I owed that to her, and to myself. So I stopped making videos because it was very time-consuming—I didn’t think of it as a career, you know, I just thought of it as fun.
II. It Was a Very Suburban Lady Industry
BIAHADJ: What was your major in college?
KD: I majored in illustration at the Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore.
BIAHADJ: And why did you go there?
KD: I had a lot of options, and MICA came and visited my high school. They did a presentation, and the woman looked at my portfolio and said, “You don’t have to apply.”
BIAHADJ: Really? Did you even have to go through the motions?
KD: Yeah, I did the paperwork and everything, but I didn’t have to do the actual portfolio process. I was really blown away by what they had to offer, but in hindsight sometimes I feel like it was just a quota thing. The school didn’t have many Black students, and I don’t think my portfolio was very good…
BIAHADJ: What kind of art were you working on at the time?
KD: I was a little nerdy anime kid, so I drew anime characters. I also did ceramics work and photography, but I didn’t feel like my drawing was up to snuff. I was definitely behind academically compared to a lot of my classmates.
BIAHADJ: You just flashed me back to my first few weeks of college, where I was a big fish in a small pond in high school, and then I got to college and suddenly everybody was smarter and a better writer and a better actor and a better this and that, and it was very intimidating. But for me it was also a good motivator because I’d see people who were my age and they were so much better than me, and I would want to be as good as they were.
KD: I feel like I had the opposite problem—I never felt like I was worth being there. Maybe it’s systemic or societal, but I spent a lot of life feeling like that, you know? I’ve always been academically pretty high up, but I never felt like I was good enough.
BIAHADJ: Did your university environment exacerbate that?
KD: 100%. There’s definitely a lot of stigma, especially in the illustration department. I was interested in character design, and I was inspired by French and Japanese animation, but people tended to look down on that as not a valid style, or see it as cheesy or not on the level of sophisticated illustration.
BIAHADJ: How did you handle that kind of criticism?
KD: It was pretty deflating. I wasn’t sure what to do because I knew what I liked, and I didn’t know how to do what other people wanted me to do, technically speaking. A lot of my classmates ultimately ended up with higher-level jobs, because MICA is MICA and you go there for connections and you get good jobs.
BIAHADJ: What kind of jobs were they getting? Industry-type jobs?
KD: Yeah—working for Marvel, working for game design companies. For me in Kansas City the big job was Hallmark, and I really wanted to get an internship there. I did the interview process and I didn’t get accepted, and that was such a big hit—the first of many hits that discouraged me from being an artist.
BIAHADJ: Was the internship competitive?
KD: Yeah, I think so. But I thought maybe I wasn’t good enough, and there wasn’t a market for what I do, so for the longest time I just didn’t draw. Instead I got a graphic design job at a scrapbooking company—it was not a good fit for me. [laughs]
BIAHADJ: Why?
KD: It was a very suburban lady industry—very Pinterest chic, Live Laugh Love, women who drink wine a whole lot, that kind of thing. Which is fine, to each their own, but I’m a weird kid, so I was the weird person there. I got to do one really cool project when I was there—a portable scrapbooking experience for younger people, and I did the cutesy theme. I designed the whole book by myself and did all original illustrations, and it was really fun.
BIAHADJ: Did you have more freedom, or were people constantly checking your work?
KD: I had an art director, so obviously there were things I had to tweak, but overall I was responsible for the feel of it—it was my book. This was my first job in a creative field and it was a big deal for me and I wanted to be successful with it, but right away I ended up making an enemy—she didn’t like me from the get-go. She wasn’t my art director, but she worked above me, like, a supervisor basically. I did that job for a year and a half, maybe two years, and then I was let go, specifically, and I quote, because I “do not fit the office culture.”
BIAHADJ: Woah—is that code for something, or…?
KD: I have no idea what that means, and you can interpret it however you want. I was the only Black person there, and I was the only person in my age group there. I remember when it happened she took me into this board room, and I remember just falling over in tears on the couch—that was the first time I’d been fired from anything before. I don’t know what I did, or if there was something I could have done, but that’s OK. [laughs]
BIAHADJ: But it’s hard at the time, and it’s scary, and can be debilitating, especially for someone just starting out.
III. I Refuse to Let Anyone Break My Spirit
BIAHADJ: During this time what were your career goals?
KD: I had no idea. I knew I wanted to do something with art—I still don’t know what I’m doing. [laughs]
BIAHADJ: You seem to have a better idea now than you did then!
KD: Yeah. But at the time I was just hoping for a way to pay my student loan debt.
BIAHADJ: How much student loan debt did you have?
KD: A lot.
BIAHADJ: Were you living at home?
KD: No, I was living in my own apartment, paying rent, paying insurance, paying all of those things—I barely had money. It was like throwing money into a fire paying student loans. I had a 10% interest rate. That was always something I felt like I got screwed on—I come from no money, and I got a lot of scholarships to go to my school, so half of it was paid, but the other half I had to make up for. The lender I borrowed from was called Campus Door, and they gave me SO much money, by myself, with 10% interest, which, as a child—I mean literally as a child, an 18-year-old person who has no experience with what it means to take out loans—I took, because I wanted to go to school. And this was right after my mom passed away, and I didn’t know what to do—I just knew that I wanted to stay in school. So I borrowed a bunch of money, and then sure enough that lender went under when the market crashed, because they were lending out all of these student loans to people who couldn’t pay them back. Then my money ended up being bought by Wells Fargo, which is a nightmare and they’re horrible to deal with.
BIAHADJ: That’s the kind of horror story that happens to a lot of people. I specifically remember being eighteen and not being able to comprehend the difference between a 2% and a 10% interest rate—or the difference between making 25 grand a year and 80 grand a year.
KD: Yeah, it’s all just numbers. It’s hard for a young person to think about, that every year the amount you borrow goes up by 10%—that’s a lot of money.
BIAHADJ: Were you thinking about art or creative projects during that time, or were you just trying to figure out how to pay the bills?
KD: I think a lot of it was just survival mode. I was doing a few things for bands—posters and stuff—wherever I could, because my best friend and I had a habit of going to concerts since high school. So by virtue of that we made a name for ourselves locally with the music scene in Kansas City—like, the radio station, we’re really good friends with them. I would do a lot of odd jobs here and there as far as art went—promotional stuff or ads. But it wasn’t my main source of income—I was just trying to find work. I was on unemployment for a long time—like, a long time. And then my best friend, she’s a teacher, but she wanted to make some extra money, so she started working at a restaurant and got me a job there too. I was there for two or three years. I worked my way up from being a really bad waitress to a trainer and a bartender—augh, that job was stressful too.
BIAHADJ: Why?
KD: My manager hated me. I don’t know what it is about me and other people. I’m a very meek person when I’m nervous, I’m shy—I’m an anxious person by nature. And when I started serving I’d never done anything like that before, so I made mistakes. And one of my managers was really awful to me. He’s the type of person who would just yell at you in front of people.
My favorite story—get this—I was opening the restaurant, and I had my headphones in because I walked to work, and while I was getting out the tea I guess my manager was talking to me, and I didn’t hear him. I took the headphones off because I noticed him yelling at me, and he was like [gruff voice] You’re not supposed to wear headphones here, take those off. So the back of the house people always wear headphones when they’re doing prep, so really casually, not in a rude way, I said, I thought it was OK because the back of the house people always wear headphones, and he said, It’s a good thing it’s not the 1960s in the South if everybody’s doing it.
BIAHADJ: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat.
KD: So I’m a very naïve person, and it didn’t register to me at all what he said until I told my friend and she was like, WHAT?
BIAHADJ: And just to be clear, the manager was white?
KD: Yeah, he’s a very white man.
BIAHADJ: What.
KD: So the more I thought about it the more I realized, yeah, that was kind of fucked up what he said.
BIAHADJ: Did you ever think about reporting it?
KD: I was going to, and then the head chef pulled me aside and was like, You know how he is, sometimes he says things he doesn’t mean, blah blah blah, don’t report him. So I didn’t.
BIAHADJ: Wow—it’s really hard to be in that situation where you don’t know if you should come forward or not—especially if you trust the person who’s telling you not to.
KD: Which, yeah, I did. Especially in the restaurant life—a lot of it’s abusive, there’s a lot of sexual assault. People are always really surprised when they hear about restaurant scandals, but for me it was everyday life, and it’s crazy because you get so comfortable with that just being the norm.
BIAHADJ: Which is all the more dangerous because then you start to accept it as reality, like it’s that way everywhere.
KD: Yes—it’s its own little bubble. So I thought, yeah, he’s so nice to me sometimes, blah blah blah—and then he was extra nice to me after that.
BIAHADJ: That’s the way they do it—when they do something bad they always become extra nice afterward. It’s the same pattern as a—
KD: An abusive relationship.
BIAHADJ: Yes! That’s why they’re nice—because they want to guilt-trip you into keeping quiet, and they know that if everybody pretends that the bad thing they did never happened things will just move on as usual.
KD: And in a dynamic like a restaurant, obviously you’re there because you desperately need money. The work is hard, and no one would do that unless they needed to, so you just put it behind you and do your work—that’s how I survived for three years of my life.
BIAHADJ: I’m sorry—the purpose of this interview was not for you to relive traumatic harassment experiences.
KD: It’s OK, it’s part of who I am.
BIAHADJ: As terrible as that is, I think those experiences give us the opportunity to grow and recognize that kind of terrible behavior the next time it happens.
KD: That’s true. I refuse to let anyone break my spirit, even if it sucks sometimes.
IV. I Want People to Trust That I Know What I’m Doing
BIAHADJ: So when you were working at the restaurant were all of your other ambitions on hold?
KD: I was trying to do freelance—I did freelance off and on as much as I could, both the concert stuff and other opportunities online, but they don’t really pay too much.
BIAHADJ: I’ve heard crowdsourcing is pretty bad now for graphic design, with things going to the lowest bidder.
KD: Especially now with things like Fiver, it’s tough to sell yourself—nobody cares that I went to MICA or have all this experience or education, they just want an OK thing quick. And there are plenty of people who’ll give you an OK thing quick. But I don’t like graphic design.
BIAHADJ: Why?
KD: [laughs] I don’t know—I just don’t like it when people tell me how to do my job. I want people to trust that I know what I’m doing, because I’m making something for you as a client. It’s OK if you have feedback, but when you get down to fourteen, fifteen, thirty revisions, it’s grating—I don’t like that workflow.
BIAHADJ: The constant nitpicking…
KD: [mocking voice] Yeah, I don’t like this, can you change it back…
BIAHADJ: Or maybe the person knows they don’t like it but can’t explain why. [parody voice] I wanted it more…better.
KD: My favorite is “more dynamic.” Can you make it more dynamic? What does that even mean?
BIAHADJ: That’s a corporate buzzword—a work cliché.
KD: It is! I would hear that all the time at [the cellular company I worked for]—make it more dynamic! Make it pop! OK…
BIAHADJ: I’ve always taken that as the sign of a bad boss. If the boss can’t tell you what they want you to do, that’s their fault, but they’ll try to make it your fault—
KD: —for not being able to read their mind. I totally agree with that. It should be your job to be able to talk about the things you want. One of the things I really hated about [the cellular company] was always being under people who had no idea what they were talking about, at all, but they made all the executive decisions. It was so annoying because they didn’t know what they wanted.
BIAHADJ: So let’s back up a bit—you worked for a major cellular provider whose name we’re not going to mention in this interview.
KD: Yeah, I was the art director there. It was a very stressful job—I think they use the term “black company” here [in Japan].
BIAHADJ: So lots of overtime, bad working conditions…?
KD: I did a lot of overtime. My manager was a, hmmmmm, stressful person to work with. I did commercials, so I had to go to New York or California at the drop of a hat.
BIAHADJ: What were you doing for the commercials?
KD: I did storyboarding for some things, and then a bigger part was set dressing. I’d choose the actors, choose the location, manage look and feel stuff.
BIAHADJ: Did you have a lot of creative freedom with that?
KD: [exaggeratedly aghast] Nooooooo. One big thing that was really stressful is that my manager thought we had to use predominantly the same color to represent the company. But as designers, we knew that you can’t just have one color, you need some offset color, and we weren’t allowed to use things that were too close to other things. The natural complement to yellow is blue or orange, or that kind of family—can’t do that [because another company uses those colors]. So everything was just kind of the same two colors, all the time.
BIAHADJ: Was that frustrating to have all those restrictions?
KD: Oh yes. [laughs] One of the things that really upset me was that I’d gone to school for this. There was the feeling that I wasn’t being respected as a creative professional to make these decisions. And having someone who had no creative experience tell me what was best in my field—that was really frustrating.
BIAHADJ: Did you try standing up for yourself, or just bow to the boss’s wishes?
KD: In the beginning I would fight for things I thought were right, but eventually you kind of get beaten down. I think that’s when I stopped drawing, because I was really depressed, and it takes away your value as an artist—because it doesn’t really matter what I think, I’ll just do what you want because it’s easier that way.
BIAHADJ: And that kind of attitude can easily seep into the rest of your life.
KD: I kind of just didn’t create—I’d go home, play video games, and avoid thinking about things.
BIAHADJ: How long were you there?
KD: About four years. For the first two years I was just a graphic designer, but then I moved into art directing.
BIAHADJ: Were you excited about the promotion?
KD: It wasn’t really a promotion.
BIAHADJ: Woah, don’t tell me they did that thing where they gave you more responsibilities for the same salary?
KD: Yeah, kind of. [mocking voice] We wear many hats around here…
BIAHADJ: Augh! I have friends who got roped into that trap at their companies too.
KD: They got rid of a lot of people in our creative department, then they told me over the phone, Oh by the way, you’re going to be an art director. Same salary, art director. I did eventually fight my way to getting a small raise—not a significant raise, but a raise nonetheless.
V. It Doesn’t Feel Like I’m Doing It for Anybody But Myself
BIAHADJ: I’m very familiar with that experience of corporate control restricting your ability to do good work—it saps all the fun out of what you used to love doing.
KD: That was the worst part—I hated design, I hated art, I hated life. So I was like, this is no good. But there was a breaking point—we would do these internal things, corporate bullshit, like executives answering questions in thirty seconds that no one in the outside world would really see. But for these spots they wanted these little illustrations to go with what people were talking about. So I was like, OK, instead of using clip art, I’ll do illustrations, because they’re all unique answers, and I would draw all these quirky illustrations in two-color. Then I started having fun with the creative challenge of having shadow and detail and only using two colors. So I thought, that’s pretty fun.
BIAHADJ: So you were able to harness some passion for art again?
KD: I’ve kind of been steamrolling through drawing since then. I started with a two-color challenge, because I’ve always struggled with color. I started doing that with pen and ink, and then I got my iPad and Apple Pencil and started to do the same thing. Then I started to post it and people started to notice it, and they’d be like, Oh, that’s really cool, your color is really cool—and I was like, Me, color? [laughs] So I would give myself a little more freedom. First it was one color, then two color, then three color—and now I have a set palette of colors I like to use interchangeably.
BIAHADJ: How long did this take?
KD: Definitely years—since I got my iPad it’s been about four years of building that skillset. And becoming more comfortable with my hand too. The Apple Pencil, I swear by it, because it feels like a pencil, so when you’re writing with it, the pressure is so fine that it’s like you’re controlling traditional media. So now when I pick up an ink pen or a brush, that motor skill is transferred to that tool, so now my ability to draw traditional media is great. Although I do catch myself trying to undo things in real life, and I can’t do that. [laughs]
BIAHADJ: Were you posting on Instagram, or elsewhere?
KD: On Instagram only. I think one thing that’s been a big motivator for me isn’t the number of followers, because I don’t really care about that—it’s when younger people DM me and are like, Hey, I really like your work and it inspires me to do things. For me, that’s it—I feel so cool and so honored that I can inspire young people to do these things. When I was younger I didn’t really have anyone to look up to, and I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my art, but kids these days have tablets and all this technology they have access to. That’s one of the things I like about Instagram, because I can follow young people and watch their progression.
BIAHADJ: One thing I really liked about your Youtube show, Challenge Accepted, was that you encouraged people to send you their art and then showed the process of how you drew it, and you had the goofy schtick with the mail squirrel—
KD: Garrett! [laughs]
BIAHADJ: Yes! Was that you doing the puppetry?
KD: I did everything on that.
BIAHADJ: It had the feel of a Pee-Wee’s Playhouse kind of show, which I liked.
KD: I enjoyed doing that show, but I got burned out on it real quick. I love editing, but I spent so much time on it, and I was working at [the cellular company], so I was, like, dead—I would stay up until 4am. [laughs] I’d like to do some of that stuff in the future, maybe on a scaled-down level, but it’s more of a time-to-resources problem.
BIAHADJ: Yes! You only have so much time.
KD: I really like seeing other people’s art, and I want to give people a chance to be platformed. One of my big goals with what I have as a platform—even though I don’t feel like it’s that big, it is big—I want to give other people an opportunity to be seen too. I love Draw This in Your Style because it gives you a chance to just take an idea. Sometimes the hardest part is just the idea, so if you give someone a prompt, it’s easier for them to create from. It’s nice because you can showcase a lot of younger talent and talent from all over the world.
BIAHADJ: How much time does it take to make a typical Instagram drawing?
KD: I usually get off work around 9:00pm, get home, eat dinner, watch some Youtube, and then draw—maybe from 10:00 or 11:00 until 1:00 or 2:00am.
BIAHADJ: One drawing per night?
KD: Yeah. Or two—I have to tell myself not to do two, because sometimes I will. Like I’ll finish something early, and I’ll be like, Hmmmm, but I could still draw. [laughs] I’ve stayed up until 3:00 or 3:30 before and then had to go to work in the morning, which is not a good idea.
BIAHADJ: You work at a private English school here in Japan, so you start work at around noon?
KD: Yeah. So I’ll get some sleep, but sometimes I’m running on like, four hours of sleep.
BIAHADJ: Do you do work in the mornings as well?
KD: I’m not a morning person—I’m definitely a night person. If I work in the morning, the problem becomes that I don’t want to stop, so it can kind of ruin my day. So I’d rather work when my day is done, and not have the distraction of work.
BIAHADJ: And do you try to post every day?
KD: I try. I’m trying to be better about knowing that if I can’t finish by like, 1:00am, then I’ll finish the next day.
BIAHADJ: I struggle with that a lot too, pushing myself to make these arbitrary kinds of deadlines. Do you feel an obligation to keep posting every day? For example, if you’re sick?
KD: No. I think that’s one of the reasons I’ve been successful at it because it doesn’t feel like I’m doing it for anybody but myself. It doesn’t feel like work for me, it’s just another thing that I do. That’s why I’m not concerned about my numbers. If I tried, I probably could be better about getting followers, but it’s not really about that—it’s just kind of a consequence of it.
VI. I’m Krissy Diggs, and That’s Who I Am
BIAHADJ: Tell me about the art shows you’ve done here in Kanazawa.
KD: I had my first art show at a bar called France, and I did twenty-six pieces for it in three weeks.
BIAHADJ: How did you get the gig?
KD: I’m friends with the people who own the bar, so they asked me if I wanted to put my art there. But it was the entire bar, and I have no physical pieces of art. I did a whole series based on the Chinese Zodiac, called Eto Pop, so for every sign I did a character. Every night I would come home and just paint paint paint paint paint. I work better under pressure, so it was good, and I was happy with it. And I had an opening, and a lot of people showed up, almost too many people, so I was like, Oh no! [laughs]
BIAHADJ: How about the second one?
KD: The second one was a little disappointing. It was kind of small. But I don’t really think that problem was on my end—it wasn’t promoted at all. It was at another bar. Similar thing, but mostly digital prints, so it wasn’t anything I was particularly married to. I did maybe four pieces that were unique. A few people showed up, but nobody showed up for the DJ either, so it just wasn’t a popular night.
BIAHADJ: It happens.
KD: But I got a Kanazawa Beer label limited edition label.
BIAHADJ: Was that from the same gig?
KD: Yeah, I guess the guy who owned that bar had a friend at Kanazawa Beer.
BIAHADJ: Do you find yourself actually seeking these things out, or were they just falling into your lap?
KD: Falling into my lap. [laughs] I just show people my art, and they’ll be like, Oh, you should do this.
BIAHADJ: What’s been your biggest challenge?
KD: Myself. [laughs]
BIAHADJ: What do you mean?
KD: It’s that imposter syndrome of not being able to look at your work and see what other people see in it. I think learning how to get out of my own way when people give me compliments and accept that what I’m doing is the right thing for myself and maybe what other people need in the world is important. I think it’s so easy, especially for artists, to not be kind to ourselves. It’s a gift and a curse in a lot of ways—because we’re so critical of ourselves, we strive to be better, so in that process we make better work. But especially since I’ve moved to Japan, I’m just trying to enjoy what I’m doing, and not think so much about whether it’s good or not, or whether I’m doing what I should be doing for my age, you know?
BIAHADJ: Yes—it’s the kind of pressure of feeling like everybody else your age seems to have a certain kind of job or has a house or has kids already.
KD: Yes. My best friend has a house, she has a husband, she has two kids, and I think I began to feel like I was taking her away from her family in a lot of ways.
BIAHADJ: I feel that a lot too—that idea that my friends who are married or have kids are busy, and I don’t want to take time away from that. I don’t know if you feel this way, but as I got older I started to feel distance from people who were focused on that kind of life, and it made me feel different, or like I didn’t fit in.
KD: I know a lot of people struggle with their ethnicity, and that perspective of living in the world. I’ve always been different. [laughs] I went to school in the city—like, in the hood. I was always the weird kid who liked anime and rock and roll music, and where I was that was not cool, and I had no friends. I got made fun of by my family, I got made fun of by classmates, so I’ve never fit in. I’ve always felt othered, so I never felt like I belonged to any particular group until I went to university and met my own group of weird people and realized there are other weird people out there like me.
BIAHADJ: That’s really important. There’s a lot of really useful conversations going on now about differences of race, gender, and sexuality that separate people, but one thing I don’t think gets talked about enough is differences based on interest or worldview. If I’m interested in cool art and writing and everybody else around me is interested in…sports, and just wants to have a stable job with a high salary, there’s going to be a gap there even if we’re the same race, gender, age, or whatever.
KD: Yeah, common interest. I’ve always been different—so being Black has never been a factor in that. I just assume people will see me differently. Even living in Japan, some people complain a lot about being looked at or feeling like they’re a foreigner—but I’ve always been different, and there’s nothing I can do to fit in here. [laughs]
BIAHADJ: Yes! I feel less pressure to fit in in Japan, because I know I’m not going to fit in, and everybody else knows I’m not going to fit in either, so there’s no pressure to actually conform and I can be my usual, weird self. It’s more relaxing.
KD: It is. Here I don’t feel like I’m trying to be anybody for anybody’s sake—I’m just me, I’m Krissy Diggs, and that’s who I am, and why I exist, and moving here is probably the best thing I’ve done so far.
BIAHADJ: Last question: What are your goals as an illustrator? Where would you like to go in the future?
KD: Right now I’m working on figuring out the idea of a clothing line. I draw a lot of jackets, and people are always saying to me, Oh, I wish I had that jacket! or That’s a super-cool jacket! So I got in touch with this really cool designer called Moonzaddy who follows me on Instagram, and she actually made one of the jackets from my illustrations. I reached out to her and asked how she felt about collabing and making one of my jackets, and she was like, Yeah, I’d love to.
I was also talking with my best friend about the logistics of putting together a screenprinting studio. She wants to learn how to screenprint, and she thinks she can sell my t-shirts. So I want to start doing limited releases of art t-shirts. I also want to sell limited edition art prints, so I’m kind of figuring out the logistics of that.
Eventually my ultimate dream is to own a tall building. The bottom floor is a café that I own, then a studio space I can use or rent out to other people, then the top floor is my apartment with a rooftop garden—that’s the dream. A maybe sometime dream.
If you haven’t already, you should totally follow Krissy Diggs on Instagram and Twitter, even though she doesn’t care about the number of followers she has.