Jaren Jackson Jr: Versatility is the game
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PHOTOGRAPHY: FILMAWI / STYLING: Toni Posh / CREATIVE DIRECTION: CHARLOTTE MAYUMI PHIPPS / WORDS: JORDAN WISE
Jaren Jackson Jr. lives in multiple worlds at once. NBA All-Star. Aspiring rapper. Fashion disruptor. Internet child turned cultural sponge. One minute he’s breaking down defensive rotations, the next he’s producing music in Memphis with the energy of someone who hasn’t slept in three days. But that’s kind of the point. There’s no separation. It’s all part of the same system. All of it feeds into something bigger.
“Everything in my life is versatility,” he says, unapologetically. “My game. My clothes. My sound. We could do grunge. We could do rap. We could do big T’s, tanks, skirts, scoots, whatever. I’ll walk around in some boxers. I don’t even care.”
That full-spectrum energy has always been there, but now he’s giving it shape. Jaren grew up on the internet, screenshotting outfits, obsessively listening to mixtapes, and building taste in real time. His mom tried to control the early soundtrack with Marvin Gaye CDs and clean edits, but when he got his first computer, it was over. “I just started trying to listen to everything,” he says. “The Carter IV. Sorry for the Wait. Chris Brown’s ‘Boy in Detention’ tape. I was deep on DatPiff. Like, I’m not just gonna listen. I’m gonna figure this out.”
Now he’s in the studio, not just critiquing the tracks but making them. His neighbour in Memphis, the rapper DEA, is a regular collaborator. “She’s ten minutes away, she’ll just run over. I’ve seen her make 25 songs in two days. Five music videos. She scares the hell out of me. Which is why I think she’s going to make it. If you can scare me creatively, you’ve got something.”
His curiosity doesn’t slow down. He wants to host a talk show. He’s fascinated by emotional energy, how people respond to inclusion and exclusion, how logic and instinct clash. He could talk about it for hours and does, if you let him. He’ll put together a PowerPoint. It’s not even a joke.
He spends most of his downtime in the bathroom. “I love it in there,” he shrugs. “Laptop’s in there. Speaker’s in there. Sometimes I take calls. Sometimes I just sit. It’s my safe haven.”
And yet, underneath all the chaos and creativity, there’s one thing that cuts through everything else. One constant.
“I want a championship. That’s all I really want. Eat, sleep, breathe that. That’s the only thing. Period.”
He knows it sounds obsessive. It is. But for Jaren, it’s the engine. The North Star. He’s tasted playoff wins. “There’s nothing like winning a series,” he says. “It’s a high you can’t shake. You want it again. And again.”
He credits his dad, a champion himself, as the original blueprint. “He won a ring in ’99. High school. College. Pro. Overseas. Did it all. So much of the reason I’m here is him. And growing up, he gave me every bit of advice he could. Even now, we relate on everything.”
The number 13 on his back? It’s personal, but it started petty. “My dad was number 2. So I was like 3 minus 1. But really, people said it was a bad luck number. So I picked it just to make ‘em mad.”
The mischief has always been there. So has the all-or-nothing mindset. He remembers knowing he could do this for real around his sophomore year of high school. “It was always basketball. But the idea of it being my life? That was the switch. I’m a big all-or-nothing guy. I don’t really half-do things. It’s either full go or I’m out.”
His favourite player growing up was Kevin Durant. When Jaren lived in D.C. during the NBA lockout, KD would turn up at local parks and drop 60 for free. “He just loved hooping. Still does. I met him then, and to see who he still is now, that’s legend stuff.”
Off the court, his cultural north stars come from music and fashion. Artists like Carti, Travis, MGK. “They just put it together in a way that makes sense to me. You gotta really see it to understand it.” Designers? “Matthew Williams. Hood By Air. Some Margiela. I’m watching how people evolve, how they push.”
“The best part about this life is that the game takes you places. You get to see the world, bring your friends, see their faces in cities you never thought you’d end up in. That’s the part I’ll never take for granted.”
Paris is his favourite city in the world. He says it like it’s obvious. And when he’s not overseas, he’s locked in with his people. Creating. Planning. Observing. He’s trying to get better at rest, really trying, but admits he struggles. “Getting rest is work. You actually have to do it. But I love spinning my wheels. I need to be better at unplugging sometimes.”
Ask him about his dream dinner party and he fires off names like it’s instinct. Michael Jackson, Heath Ledger, SpongeBob. “That’s elite already.” Then pauses. “Actually, hold on. Can I pick anything?”
He’ll veer from talking about backstroke technique from his swimming days to AI theories without blinking. He says he wishes he’d invented AI. Then again, he kind of feels like he is AI already. “What I do is so random to other people. But it’s not random to me. I get it. I’ve always been like this.”
“Don’t let the opportunity fly by. Don’t think tomorrow’s always coming. It might not. Time is undefeated. The game keeps moving. So when it’s your moment, take it.”
That’s the edge that keeps him locked in, even when the studio is calling or Paris is pulling. Everything he does is fuelled by feeling, and right now, that feeling is hunger. A ring. Impact. Ownership of every layer of his life.
He rises from the chair, still talking like the conversation hasn’t ended. The energy hasn’t dipped once. Everything about him feels in motion. Ideas. Ambition. Intent.
He’s not here to tick boxes. He’s here to shape culture, chase greatness, and do it all in his own way.
