
ABOUT
Mikky & The Doom is not just an artist—it’s a reclamation spell in glitter, guitars, and guts.
Fronted by Marijke Boers (Mikky), a Jacksonville, Florida raised artist now based in Austin, Texas, the project is a collision of pop punk, indie rock, and raw theatricality. The “DOOM” includes an incredible web of collaborators and creatives in the studio and on stage making it more of a musical cult than a traditional band. “I am my Doom,” Mikky tells herself in a constant fluid state of self-discovery. “To truly free yourself you must doom what holds you back” Her sound blends sneering glam and sharp lyricism with cartoonish edge and gut-punch hooks—a sonic exorcism for anyone who's ever felt too loud, too tender, or too much. Think Joan Jett raised on South Park, voiced by a misunderstood villain from a Saturday morning cartoon.
Mikky’s personal mantra—“follow the fun”—has led her down beautifully strange roads. Before committing to music full-time, she was a rising star in musical stand-up, finishing as a semifinalist at the 2020 San Diego Comedy Festival and gaining 55k followers and millions of views on Tiktok. She even got an opportunity to audition for SNL. When the pandemic derailed live performance, she threw herself into animation—climbing from production coordinator to producer to director, while lending her voice to characters in projects that now live on Amazon Prime, BBC, Peacock, and Disney+.
But every villain has an origin story… before there was “Mikky” there was Marijke.
Marijke grew up in a well-off, preppy household in Florida. Her early years were steeped in structure, expectation, and a quiet demand for perfection. Then the 2008 recession hit—and everything unraveled. Her family lost their home. They liquidated what they could and sold most of their belongings. The day to day was filled with uncertainty, vicious arguments, and a constant state of stress. Her parents divorced. The life she knew splintered, and in the wreckage, Mikky appointed herself the emotional glue.
Marijke convinced herself that if she became the “golden child” then she could lighten the load. She swallowed her own needs to keep the peace, internalized everyone else’s vision for her life, kept quiet about a traumatic sexual assault, and performed joy even when things felt unlivable. Music and tennis became her escape hatches and her only path to a college degree. She hustled her way to a Division I tennis scholarship at George Mason University and got a degree studying her passion, Music. As a highschooler, she bartered years of time and labor as an assistant to a former professional tennis player and coach in exchange for coaching she couldn’t afford. That coach was generous, but got a kick out of humbling people— harsh and unyielding, he instilled in her a “beat-dog” mentality: relentless gratitude and confidence-killing perfectionism.
Marijke is putting down the beat dog with Mikky & The Doom.
Her music is messy, loud, and ruthlessly authentic. It's poetry with a punch, storytelling with eyeliner and bite. She writes about lust, burnout, self-love, rage, heartbreak, and rebirth. Songs like Melt explore what happens when you shatter the myth of the “good girl” in favor of your own wholeness— You can only truly spread light when you start protecting your own fire.
On stage, she’s unscripted and feral. Her shows are sweaty, sparkly declarations of chaos and catharsis—celebrations of queerness, weirdness, and the right to take up space. She’s opened for artists like Kelsey Carter and Ella Red, played SXSW and Hot Luck Fest, and continues to build a world where it's safe—and cool—as hell to be your full, messy self.
Her style? Whimsically evil. Think glam-rock supervillain meets mean babysitter in fishnets. If you've ever rooted for the cartoon bully because she had the best outfits and the best lines—you get it.
Every song is an act of self-rescue. Every show is a rebellion.
And Mikky & the Doom is living, screaming proof that weird girls who can find the fun in a burning world grow up to make the loudest, truest noise in the room.