about

I'm Jasmine, the artist behind BADBASEMENT. Trying to write one of these feels cringey and self important, but I'm going to try anyways. I never really planned on becoming an artist.

When I graduated from Rutgers with an English degree, I imagined I'd end up in publishing. I was commuting from New Jersey into New York, trying to build the career I thought I was supposed to have. With more time than I knew what to do with due to the pandemic, I picked up polymer clay on a whim, really. I didn't at all anticipate how quickly it would become such a pivotal moment for me.

My wonderful, beautiful, and incredible friends encouraged me to share my work, and after months of learning, experimenting, and building an online community, I launched BADBASEMENT in May of 2020. My very first collection sold out. Within months, a hobby had become a business, and eventually that business became my full-time gig. And then it wasn't. At times I lost the passion for it, and then gained it again. And then lost it. And I love her all the same. 

But BADBASEMENT has always been about more than just earrings and accessories. I'm so deeply fascinated by horror. Not just as a genre, but as a form of storytelling. Horror has always reflected the anxieties of its time. From its earliest beginnings, the genre has explored racism, capitalism, misogyny, colonialism, queer identity, state violence, and the countless ways power shapes our lives. Some of the most enduring horror stories aren't even really about monsters; they're about the systems which create them.That history is at the heart of everything I make.

My work blends horror with political commentary because I don't believe the two should be separated. BADBASEMENT has always been an anti-policing, abolitionist, pro-LGBTQIA+ project rooted in the belief that art can challenge, question, and imagine something better. The politics aren't an addition to the work, they're part of its foundation.

At first glance, my pieces can look angry, ugly, bloody. There are monsters, decay, and all of the unsettling imagery horror is known for. But underneath all of that, my work comes from a place of love. Love for people, love for community, and most integrally, the belief that another world is possible.

Horror gives us permission to confront what society would rather ignore. It asks us to look directly at fear instead of pretending it doesn't exist. I hope my work invites people to do the same. I hope it makes you laugh, maybe feel uncomfortable. I hope it starts conversations with random people in the women's restroom, or in line at a show. I hope that conversation starts a friendship. I want my work to reflect that even dark stories can carry hope.

Right now, every piece I create is handmade in Tacoma, Washington, and every collection is shaped by the stories, films, politics, and communities that inspire me. Thank you for being here. Whether you've been here since my first drop, or you've just discovered my work, I'm grateful you've found your way into my creepy little basement.