You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. At that moment preparing for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The album, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an transparent story, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while all the while coping with the disease. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with ornate white designs, off-white boots and oversized specs. Imagine motorcycle style meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Jessie is quick, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I love making people laugh. During performances I basically roast the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was planning an appearance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d call on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had so much on.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after years away and four years without a single. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. They lead you. During crises you roll down in a bed, but this time I just walked with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my right breast now looks like a odd shape.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Frequently they align with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with high points for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her childhood, already beginning performing in the West End in the production (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward several years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band the group while attending the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a year.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
