Sophie Thatcher- Between Worlds

Sophie’s own clothes

Growing up, music was a natural extension of Sophie. “I started experimenting really young,” she recalls. “Lyrics, poetry, melodies – I had an Omnichord. That’s where it began.” A self-taught musician, she found solace in composition, in translating feeling into something tangible. Early obsessions included Elliott Smith, the melancholy of Waltz #1, and the delicate brutality of Fiona Apple. “I was obsessed with honesty. Even if my lyrics were abstract, they had to feel true to me.” That, she says, is the throughline in everything she creates.

Music, though deeply personal, is not her only artistic outlet. Acting provides a different challenge – one she’s drawn to for its emotional extremes. “I feel most alive in intense moments,” she explains. “When everything strips away and all that’s left is presence.” She describes it as catharsis. A release. The ability to submerge completely in a character, then emerge intact. With Yellowjackets, she inhabits a role that demands a slow unravelling, a simmering internality that eventually boils over. “There’s so much repression in Natalie,” she notes. “It’s all guilt, all bottled- up emotion. It’s fascinating to play someone who doesn’t let herself break until she has no other choice.”

Sophie’s relationship with intensity isn’t just about craft – it’s something she’s always been drawn to. Raised in a religious household, themes of guilt, redemption, and transformation naturally thread through her work. “My first songs were full of religious undertones. Not intentionally, but that language of longing, of searching, it was already there.” She’s careful not to let it consume her, but she acknowledges its grip.

“I think growing up in that environment shapes how you see the world. It gives you something to rebel against, but it also leaves fingerprints on your mind.”

Dior bodysuit & Falke tights

Despite the emotional weight she often carries in her work, she’s not afraid to explore something lighter. “I had a meeting the other day where they pitched rom-coms to me,” she laughs. “My gut reaction was, ‘No, I can’t do that. I’m a serious actor.’ But then I realised – maybe that’s the challenge. Maybe I don’t have to make myself suffer to feel fulfilled.”

That balance – between intensity and levity, between control and surrender – is something she’s constantly navigating. Even in fashion, she sees a tension between the personal and the performative. “I’m drawn to the 20s, to Victorian silhouettes, to the 70s – slightly punk, slightly arty. It’s all influenced by music. But now, stepping into the fashion world, I have to reconcile my own style with being dressed by others. It’s a strange thing, but also kind of beautiful.”

As we speak about the start of the year – one marked by fires, evacuations and uncertainty – Sophie reflects on the necessity of creation in difficult times. “There’s no other choice but to make art,” she says. “That’s how we process, how we heal. We have to take all this and turn it into something.” She speaks about a recent benefit concert, about the ways in which artists have come together to support one another. “It makes me want to push myself more,” she says. “To perform live, to create more music, to put it all into something bigger than myself.”

Her next step? A trip to Asheville to record new songs. “I’m growing with my music,” she says, the excitement unmistakable in her voice. “It’s becoming more technical, but it’s also still instinctive. The last time I recorded, it was the best week of my life. It felt like everything just made sense.”

Chanel bodysuit, skirt & earrings, Omega watch

Her approach is evolving; where she once wrote purely from instinct, she now finds joy in the technical side of production, the process of shaping soundscapes that feel as evocative as the emotions they carry.

She describes her relationship with her twin, Ellie, as one of profound creative trust. “We’ve always been each other’s sounding boards. I think she has a darker mind – she’s been making art longer, and it comes so naturally to her.” Their bond is less about competition, more about quiet admiration. “She’ll send me a new stop-motion piece, I’ll send her a new song. We’ve been doing this since we were kids.”

As she navigates an industry that often prioritises image over substance, Sophie remains committed to her own evolution. She isn’t in a rush to define herself, nor is she interested in fitting neatly into any particular mould. “I want to be a chameleon,” she says, before reconsidering. “But I also want to be myself. I think I’m still figuring out what that means.

And that, perhaps, is the most exciting part. Sophie isn’t just an actor, a musician, or an artist. She’s an observer, an experimenter, a storyteller. Her work is a constant exploration – of self, of emotion, of the blurred lines between reality and performance. As she continues to shape her voice across multiple mediums, one thing is certain: she’s only just getting started.