“Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.”
N A M E: Angeline Whitehead
C A R E E R: Vocalist for Porcelain Judas
N E I G H B O R H O O D: The Arts District
A E S T H E T I C ☆ Studded combat boots, a solid red microphone, classic rock vinyls, the sound of dripping water, red mood lights, pleather jeans and jackets, the taste of blood, the feeling you get when you’re dancing and no one is looking, black on black on black, vintage band tees, arctic monkeys in the bedroom, jawbreakers. ☆
T R I G G E R S: Fat-shaming, self-harm, depression
P L A Y E D B Y: Anya (she/her) | 23 | CST
Angeline Vivienne Whitehead was born on January 3rd, 1992 to Alanza and Victor Whitehead. The two met in Brazil, where Alanza was born and raised. Victor had been visiting for school and the rest was history. They decided to get married and move to Los Angeles, California. It was a place they both grew to adore and a place they believed would have the most opportunities for their future children. Then along came Angeline, a chubby little, raven haired beauty with a twinkle in her eye. They both agreed they didn’t know true love until that day.
She had a typical LA upbringing, diving into the arts as she got older. Her fingernails always caked and her clothes always dyed with paints and markers she used to create. She joined choir and theater. Every possible form of art, Angeline was drawn to and found a way to be involved in. To become this ever-changing person who could morph into any given thing was something she had always thrived for and being open people, her parents let her do what she wanted. As long as she was happy, they couldn’t complain.
Then she got older and the baby fat didn’t seem to melt away like promised. Her interest in everything became just another thing that was wrong with her. She was labelled indecisive and greedy. She was picked on for her weight and her over-enthusiasm. A girl that was once happy to be the person she was soon saw how ugly the world could get. She cowered away from the judgement, staying an ever-changing being who fixed parts of her she didn’t need to. When they said her teeth were crooked, she asked for braces. When they laughed at her for her luscious curls, she woke up two hours earlier to straighten it out. When they told her she was ugly, she added on yet another hour to simply paint on a mask to make herself seem beautiful.
Soon, all that was left of her was a shell that would bend and please to the whims of the world around her. If she was told to belt a note louder, she’d stand on the tips of her toes and roar like the lion she was on the inside. When she was told to cry harder and say her line more poetically, she made the entire class cry, not able to ignore the hurt that was bubbling just beneath the surface. She was talented, but the problem was, she was no longer someone she knew. She had long forgotten who she was underneath the makeup and behind the acting. It became a burden more so than a blessing.
But eventually it paid off. All the hair dye and makeup. All the nights spent reading lines and pretending (no matter how much of her own pain was there) to be hurt beneath stadium lights. It paid off. She was recruited by a director who sat in on their play based on the piece Annabelle Lee by Edgar Allan Poe. Her depth was undeniable. Her presence never left, even when she was off-stage and when she was offered a leading role in a new horror series written for SHOWTIME called Nightmares, she was quick to say yes.
However, Hollywood was a Hell of a lot more critical. She found herself in the shark tank, a tiny fish within monsters that would come to swallow her whole. She was criticized for her appearance, told she was nobody without the people behind her. It all became too much and after three seasons and one red carpet mishap, Angeline found herself in a rehabilitation center for self harm. Her demons had gotten the best of the home they lived in and it was about time they found somewhere else to reside.
The time she spent in Hollywood was horrible. She met people who could give the Devil himself a run for their money and she didn’t ever want to turn back. But she remained with love for the arts (including Nightmares) and in the hospital went back to her roots of painting and writing, turning her experiences into art and poetry, finally finding her voice. Within the walls of this place that aided her in her pain, she found herself. A strong woman who wanted to help people, but with a dark outlook on things because she no longer wore her rose colored glasses that made her see the positive in everything. Instead, she saw the world for what it was– and that was ugly and unforgiving.
Flash forward through the dark details of finding herself and turning back from the hard she had done to herself and Angeline has built castle walls around herself. Fuck being a princess, she was a queen. Catcalls and the friend-zone be damned– she was a woman scorned and one who had seen the world before becoming an adult and living on her own. She took back whatever words that scarred her body and branded them as her own. She spent a while and still struggles, but she has learned to accept her body and imperfect features.
A big part of her journey was the poems she had written. Within the walls of the rehabilitation center, she found a few connections who were more than happy to help her get on her feet. It was one of the nurses who heard her sing and suggested that she turn her poetry in music that sparked what would be the best thing to ever happen to her. She already knew the piano and guitar (her father being very musically orientated) so from there it was creating a platform and that is exactly what she did.
She started small with covers, dropping an acoustic EP about a year after being released and from there that support poured in. She was open and honest with fans and wanted them to know that even though the world was ugly, she was going to do what she could to add a little truth and to help those who needed it. Then everything came at a steady flow. Two and a half years later she and her touring band created their first album. It was mostly conceptual with a little bit of truth on her experience and witnesses and people ate it up.
And she hasn’t stopped there.
With the new year, she has dropped a part two to her band, Porcelain Judas’, first full length album and things are only going up from there.
Angeline has come out of her past like a Phoenix rises from its ashes. Her past is still a part of her, but because of it she is stronger than she has ever been.
Exploring her music and wants in life has made her confident and self-aware.
She is un-abiding and doesn’t take anyones’ shit. She is the definition of a feminist: equality for all and she is learning on just how to do so while tearing anyone down who doesn’t see humans as human.
She still has her insecurities and tries to vocalize them, single them out and figure out how to deal with it.
She is diagnosed with depression and has learned to cope with it, but she still has her moments.
Deep down, Angeline is a hopeless romantic. She wants to love someone and to be loved in return, even though she does believe she doesn’t need anyone to make herself happy.
Angeline is the epitome of classic rock meets punk, with a lil bit of repressed emo.
Her music is compared to that of The Pretty Reckless and New Year’s Day. She finds a lot of inspiration in other female artists.
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