Musician Gin Wigmore has returned to New Zealand and opened a deli in the middle of Kingsland. After the lunch rush, and before the release of her fourth studio album, she tells Viva about her new life in Aotearoa.<\/p>\n
Recently, Gin Wigmore enjoyed a fan encounter like no other.<\/p>\n
\n She
\n was stationed in the deli she has just opened in Kingsland, working alongside collaborator and sandwich maker Aiden William, when a little mega-fan \u2013 about 8 years old \u2013 said hello.\n <\/p>\n
\u201cShe was just beside herself,\u201d the musician tells Viva.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe told me she played drums. I was like, \u2018Check out the studio through there! Should we just go hit around on the drums?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
Wigmore, 39, played alongside her fellow musician, on instruments kept just next door to the deli. It was quite the moment for a budding artist.<\/p>\n
\u201cHer mum\u2019s head was just exploding.\u201d<\/p>\n
Photo \/ Jason Dorday<\/p>\n
It\u2019s an interaction that might become more regular for Wigmore now she\u2019s in a public-facing role, one that she\u2019s welcoming.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat access has been the cool thing about [the deli]. It feels very real.\u201d<\/p>\n
The musician met Aiden Williams, her business partner at Wigmore Deli, in the midst of cultivating an important new ritual.<\/p>\n
Shortly after leaving Los Angeles (her home of 13 years) and returning to Aotearoa New Zealand in late 2024, Wigmore began wandering to her local coffee shop in the mornings. She had just separated from her husband, US musician Jason Aalon Butler, and landed back in the country in need of some support.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was sort of this pretty sad, depressed, lonely, shell of a human,\u201d Wigmore says. She also laughs, to hold a hard memory lightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI went to Atomic [in Kingsland] to start building a routine. One step in front of the other.\u201d<\/p>\n
Williams, who was managing the cafe at the time, became a familiar face. Wigmore tucked the idea of working together away, and went about seeking something to ground her more firmly in Aotearoa.<\/p>\n
Photo \/ Jason Dorday<\/p>\n
\u201cMy head\u2019s spinning, going \u2018I got to do a big project, I got to do something massive I can sink my teeth into to keep me here\u2019,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
Wigmore has experience in hospitality. Previously, she ran a hotel just outside of Palm Springs. Her initial idea was to open a wine bar in Kingsland \u2013 Wigmore loves Bar Martin<\/a> in Mt Albert and felt the suburb was missing a similar space. <\/p>\n After months of searching, Wigmore came across the space just as an agent was putting up the \u201cfor sale\u201d signs. <\/p>\n \u201cI definitely was annoying his day. Just pushed on through [to have a look]. And then I was like, \u2018Oh my god, I love it. I\u2019ll take it. I\u2019ll buy it.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n She floated the idea with Williams \u2013 he laughs, thinking of a 3am message from his friend \u2013 and he jumped on board. After looking into consents and liquor licenses, the pair decided on a pivot for the opening. (\u201cI\u2019m not great with rules,\u201d Wigmore says.)<\/p>\n They spoke to neighbours, who suggested the area would benefit from a shop serving something fresh. The decision happened quickly. <\/p>\n \u201cIt was, like, 24 hours,\u201d Wigmore laughs.<\/p>\n \u201cLess than that,\u201d Williams clarifies. \u201cIt was a 10 minute conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n The deli developed quickly \u2013 building shelves, sourcing furniture and gear from Facebook Marketplace and reaching out to friend and designer Jamin Drupsteen for help on branding.<\/p>\n The brick building, tucked right in the heart of Kingsland, is painted a deep green, in contrast to a bright red door. Wigmore Deli is hand-painted across the window (in the recognisable signwriting style of Sam Burton from Sure Shot<\/a>). They\u2019re thinking about ways to foster local creativity \u2013 there\u2019s Wigmore\u2019s studio next door and the invitation for artists to display their work inside the deli. <\/p>\n The menu is short and they sling sammies until they\u2019re sold out \u2013 as they are when Viva visits. There are just three staple servings, using bread from Beabea\u2019s bakery in Westmere<\/a>. Each sandwich comes with a side of chips. They\u2019re working towards a wine-bar launch in October.<\/p>\n The spot has been open for more than a month and Wigmore has found solace in the deli, working alongside Williams.<\/p>\n \u201cWhen I\u2019m feeling a little lonely of heart … I come down and just do a bit [of work on the] till, but mainly just be in the presence of this place. It\u2019s a warm hug, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n This experience developing the deli encapsulates Wigmore\u2019s return to Aotearoa. Before leaving the States, she remembers being in a raw and exposed place emotionally. After her separation from Butler and some messy experiences creating new music, Los Angeles had become too tough. <\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve got to wear a certain level of armour every day. I didn\u2019t have any f***ing armour left.\u201d<\/p>\n So, she returned to the country she left at 17, bringing her two boys Pascal Butler, 8, and Izaiah Butler, 6, with her.<\/p>\n She has received support and the assurance upon her return from family, friends and new colleagues. Wigmore has also loved seeing the ways her children have embraced the move. And some comforts are more intangible. <\/p>\n \u201cIt was that warm blanket that I needed, that only New Zealand knows how to make,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s the fact that the beaches are the way they are, the water feels the way it does, the air smells the way it does. The people are kind and careful and … sweet. That was all of the things I needed at that time.\u201d<\/p>\n Wigmore has also embraced music as a place to process the changes in her life. Her new record, set to release on July 17, is called Beautiful Mess. It is her fourth studio album and her first in eight years. On it, Wigmore catalogues everything she has enjoyed and endured. <\/p>\n The music was largely recorded before she returned to New Zealand. For seven days, she worked in a studio deep in the Yucca Valley, a town just north of Palm Springs, with long-time friends and band members Dave Goodison and Steve Padin.<\/p>\n The album is double-sided. The first, Beautiful, features a gentler soundscape that draws on Americana and country genres, opening with the single Country Diamond. A nostalgic Wigmore imagines what might have been, considering alternate paths of love. <\/p>\n On the second, Mess, she delves into harder, more brutal rock music. Beautiful Mess \u2013 the title track \u2013 is crowded with distorted guitars and heavy percussion, and her signature rasp is especially pronounced. <\/p>\n Songwriting has helped Wigmore to make sense of things during turbulent times. It\u2019s always been like that.<\/p>\n \u201cI find myself so much more unstable or unknowing of myself if I don\u2019t have it playing a front-seat role.\u201d<\/p>\n Last year, she took up some mentoring and was a judge for the Apra Silver Scrolls Awards. <\/p>\n \u201cIt gave me a really big like crash course in who\u2019s doing what in New Zealand.\u201d<\/p>\n She loves the \u201ciconic\u201d Marlon Williams<\/a>. And there are those who share a bit of her spirit \u2013 she\u2019s really into \u014ctepoti alt-rock band Ivy<\/a> and \u201cyoung bratty little thing\u201d Emerson<\/a> (they have done some co-writing together).<\/p>\n Sitting back in her chair, just after greeting an old friend who pokes his head through the deli door, Wigmore says today, in this version of her life, she feels connected to a keen community.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a nice way to come back into New Zealand and be reminded how incredible Kiwis are.\u201d<\/p>\n More local faces <\/p>\n From bright literaries to community-minded creatives. <\/p>\nPhoto \/ Jason Dorday<\/p>\n
Photo \/ Jason Dorday<\/p>\n
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Photo \/ Jason Dorday<\/p>\n