New Yorkers Celeste Cruz and Karen “Daphne” DiConcetto auditioned to become a pop duo in 1998. Their career was short-lived but memorable – releasing Ooh Stick You, U.G.L.Y. and a cover version of Alice Cooper’s School’s Out!; they were also bottled off stage at the 2000 Reading festival. After getting dropped in 2001, Celeste pursued a career in acting, and Karen in screenwriting. They reunited in 2015, with the album Daphne & Celeste Save the World following in 2018. Karen lives in Brooklyn, and Celeste in New Jersey. They perform at the Mighty Hoopla festival in London on 31 May.
Based on Celeste’s T-shirt, I would say this was taken during the promotion of U.G.L.Y. – her frosted blue eyeshadow is a clear indicator, too, as it was very much a thing back then. Someone should have told me to paint my nails. I also think we were getting bored with all of our normal poses. Boredom is the only reasonable explanation for that hand-to-mouth expression.
One of the first things Celeste said to me was: “Hey, so, like, I’ve got pinkeye [conjunctivitis].” She wanted to get it out of the way at the start of the audition, so I wouldn’t think she had an eye that always looked like that, which I found endearing. My other memory is of us dancing to the instrumental to Ooh Stick You and us both saying: “What is this strange song?”
When we arrived in England, I had just seen the movie Notting Hill, and, based on that alone, we decided we should live there. It was the 90s and labels had a lot of money, so they said: “Sure!”
Before Daphne and Celeste, my ambition was to do Broadway. Pop wasn’t taking off as much in America as it was in the UK – the kind of music I liked was Lauryn Hill and Radiohead – but I soon became fully immersed. As well as British pop, we loved British TV. Once we saw Sid Owen from EastEnders and reacted as if he was the biggest star in the world. The same thing happened with Darren from the first season of Big Brother. Who knew some guy chasing chickens around a garden could ignite that kind of response?
There was always a deep sense of irony about everything we did in Daphne and Celeste, and the people who got the joke knew we were just having fun. Richard and Judy were not those people. When we left the set after our interview the producers said: “Never come back.” I don’t even think they said please. What did we do? We were just being ourselves and maybe talking too much. They wanted us to be cheeky but not too cheeky, which we were. They took themselves very seriously and, while we didn’t want to be rude, we also thought: “This is really not that deep. Our lyrics are literally ‘Up your butt with a coconut.’”
Being a pop band in that era was a whirlwind. We’d often be told we were doing something, such as an Asda supermarket tour, and we’d just agree to it. It never occurred to us to ask more questions about why the next three months of our lives would be spent in different Asda supermarkets. It was one of the weirder experiences we had, but actually pretty convenient as we could pick up food after the signings.
Throughout those years, Celeste and I were stuck with each other. There were occasional moments when we needed space, but we had no other option but to figure it out. Learning how to work through problems like that in real time was an incredible skill to acquire at such a young age.
Once the group got dropped, we went back to the States and took some time out from each other. A year later, we became roommates again, and we’ve been close ever since. As for the future, I’m not sure. We still have so much fun performing together. Mostly, I am just grateful to have Celeste as my friend.
Our schedule during this period would often include 15 shoots in a day, so it’s impossible to pinpoint exactly where we were or what we were posing for. My eyebrows are Christina Aguilera levels of thin. It was the era to have almost no eyebrows at all. Someone should have told me to do a little less with my nails, and Daphne a little more. I think the expression we were going for was: “Gasp! Did you really just say that thing you shouldn’t have said?” People liked that type of sass from us.
My first impression of Karen was that she had a striking bob. The audition itself was confusing, as I wasn’t entirely sure what it was for – apart from En Vogue, we didn’t have girl groups in the US at that time. Once I got to the UK I really started to understand the pop explosion that was happening – so much so that I bought multiple Steps records.
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From the start our attitude was: “Just have fun! This probably won’t last for ever.” But the pop world was incredibly earnest and people would often forget that we were 16 [Karen] and 18 [Celeste]. For example, when U.G.L.Y. charted at No 18, we were really excited – Top 20 was a huge thing for us – but the other groups we were on tour with responded as if something terrible had happened. In general, the pop scene found us tricky to place, and would sometimes be mean to us. There was very much a “sit at your own lunch table” vibe in response to us. But not S Club 7. They were so fun.
When Karen and I lived in London, our nextdoor neighbour was Brian Eno. We bumped into him one day and he said: “My daughters love you.” I did not know who this person was, which I now feel so embarrassed about. He invited us into his home and I remember looking around at all of his records and saying: “Wow, you must be such a huge U2 fan.” Thankfully, he was so humble and sweet, and didn’t let on he was the legend that he was.
Quite quickly, mine and Karen’s friendship became like a sisterhood. As we were living and working together for 24 hours a day, there were moments when we would be at each other’s throats, but we had no choice but to learn how to take care of each other.
When the group ended, we had a bit of space from each other. I definitely needed to gain back a bit of my identity: I was “on” for so long that I totally forgot who I was and what I really liked. At first I was restless and couldn’t stay static – I started following members of the Grateful Dead on tour. Then a year later, Karen and I were back in touch and we started hanging out again. Since then, we’ve been with each other for all of the major life milestones – we went to each other’s weddings, we got pregnant at the same time, and, as we both lived in Brooklyn, our children became besties. It’s really cute – they vibe similarly to how Karen and I do.
I feel like the universe chooses who you go through life with, whether you intentionally pick someone or if you meet them at an audition. Karen and I love our husbands, but there is a bond between us that’s unique. She knows what it’s like to be in a pop group, to be a pandemic mum, to work five jobs in New York to get by. She gets me on all levels, and I can’t say that about anyone else.