Zinadelphia is a spiritual maximalist who sees her life as one big art project. The Philadelphia singer-songwriter embodies that “more-is-more” approach through her colorful (and proudly thrifted) wardrobe, her hand-designed merch, and, especially, her music. Inspired as much by Aretha Franklin and Amy Winehouse as she is by Quentin Tarantino and James Bond films, she crafts intimate songs about love and self-growth that project Motown warmth at cinematic scale — her honeyed rasp elevated by lush layers of horns, strings, and timpani. “I just want to feel emotions to their fullest,” Zina says. Brick by brick, note by note, lyric by lyric, she’s built an immersive world that’s wholly her own, guided by the mantra that what you seek is seeking you.

That patience is why Zina’s new EP, The Boutique, has been two years in the making. She knew how she wanted it to sound; she just didn’t know what it looked like yet. A clothes tag on display at a vintage design exhibit stopped her cold: the name Biba adorned by a golden Celtic knot. “I'd never heard of it,” she recalls. A quick Google search sent her down a rabbit hole into London’s Swinging Sixties. Founded by Barbara Hulanicki, Biba was a fashion label and department store that revolutionized the culture by marketing chic, affordable clothes to young people, eventually expanding into one of the first lifestyle brands via cosmetics, home goods, and food. The store’s moody atmosphere and loud music turned the chore of shopping into a social event. “It was like walking through an IKEA,” Zina explains, “but like, it's Art Deco, it's Art Nouveau. Plants and flamingos and patterns everywhere. Seven stories of absolute madness and amazing stuff.”

The Boutique, in Zina’s world, is Biba’s in-store playlist. Whereas she refers to her last project as “daytime” music, this is its nighttime counterpart: more mature and “a little less cheery, with fewer rainbows,” she says. Take the sensual lead single “The Seamstress.” Over a luxe disco groove brimming with piercing violin and big horns, she describes her ability to mold a man into her ideal with the purr of a Bond femme fatale. “Once we wrote that, I was like, ‘Yes, this is the foundation for everything else,’” Zina says. On the lighthearted “Call Up Nancy,” she celebrates the artists (in her case, Nancy Sinatra) whose music we lean on like old friends in times of need. Belting over rollicking drums on “The Ugly Truth,” she taunts an ex about her irreplaceability.

But vulnerability lingers beneath the maximalism. Zina recalls the “beautiful yet uncomfortable” process of writing “River,” which confronts her fear of sabotaging a good relationship. “Words of affirmation are hard for me to say in person,” she says, “but I can write. That’s how I show my love.” And on the dreamy title track, she looks 20 years into the future, where she’s opened a boutique of her own, with her designs on display. “It's kind of a silly dream,” she admits, “but I’d love to create a lifestyle brand like Barbara did with Biba. I want to do more than just music.”

In some ways, Zina is Hulanicki — a creative who refuses to be confined to one medium. An artsy kid in an athletic family, she explored every avenue available to her growing up. In college, she studied photography and journalism before settling on media studies and production. She soft-launched her project in 2020, building a band and working the local scene with cover songs and originals. “We played every house show, bar, and tiny festival you can play in Philly,” Zina says. “People just kept showing up.” Her multidisciplinary background proved useful: handling branding and design herself saved money and ensured every detail came from her own hand.

While Zina’s 2023 debut EP Lucky showed promise, she feels it lacked a sonic vision. “It’s so clear that I wanted to try everything and no one said no,” she says fondly. But it was a start. Among bubblegum-pop and rock tracks, singles “Love Language” and “Cosmos” hinted at a soulful depth. Her 2024 follow-up, The Magazine EP, dug into that throwback sound and refined it further. The production of cuts like “Love Over Glory” and “Zinfandel” felt fuller, warmer, bigger — and Zina’s voice finally had room to soar in all its raspy, emotional glory. Finding her sound reignited her creative senses; at that point, the question was just how to physically bring it to life. The answer: a 70-page actual magazine packed with liner notes, word games, and faux vintage ads she wrote and designed. “Artists often just put music out and let the listener decide what it means, which is beautiful,” she says, “but I’m a maximalist and I just can't shut the fuck up.”

For The Boutique, Zina is bringing her vision to life the only way she knows how: all the way. She’s planned a series of ’60s-inspired pop-up events featuring a vintage clothing shop, a mini hair salon, a sewing and fashion design studio, and a merch catalog modeled after the original Biba mail-order brochure. As with the title track, it feels like she’s manifesting her future, one detail at a time. “The boutique itself is a metaphor,” she says. “My goals and dreams seem so huge and far away, but I’m not going to worry about how I get there. I just know that I will.”