Category: editorial

factory girl

factor14factory4factory5factory6factory2factory11factory8factory7factory3factory9factory10factory12factory13factory15factory16factory17factory18factory19factory20factory21factory22factory23factory24factory25factory26factory27factroy15She gave her heart to New York so long ago. No other lover compared. No other lover scooped her up and swallowed her whole.

Motorcycles parked outside of cupcake shops in Soho. White beds perched in the Empire skyline. Lovers and japanese motorcycle rides in the pink-filled sky. She didn’t know how to be in the world when she was anywhere else.

She danced from studio to photo-shoot under the glittering, gold sun. What was Manhattan without velvet furniture and nicotine. Eyelashes higher than the heavens. New York was alive in her as much as she was alive in New York. High off hunger and the taste for a new day. Italian expresso in the afternoon and red fingertips flipping through french literature. Eclectic was an understatement- she kept each memory inside her like she was getting ready to write a book.

And she read books; self-help, philosophy, but mostly classic literature. She had this one book, she read it all the time, at least three times a year. You hold on to things that inspire you to keep living. Walking out of hell and into New York was just the beginning.

Devendra Banhart on repeat, today was a studio day. She came through the door, pink plastic bag, blonde hair, and thick black eye shadow hidden under red heart sunglasses. She’s the kind of girl Vladimir Nabokov would of written about. A modern-day Lolita takes Manhattan story. A little codeine, nude lips, and a gold pocket knife tucked into her thigh-high boots, a real heroine.

No cups, so they all drank from the one bottle of champagne. A pretty photographer that looked like a movie-star, and a handsome painter that smelled of coconut oil and colors. They danced around the wooden floors, trying to find the light, snapping photographs.

The ghost that is the spirit, she wore it in her eyes and projected it into the camera. A factory girl is full of wonder, always in awe of her immediate surroundings.

They captured the day from morning till sunrise, spinning with fabrics and pastel paints. They couldn’t tell the difference between what was real and what they created. They wondered if people were going to remember them.

skivvies obsession bodysuit by For Love and Lemons

candy coated dress by Nasty Gal

sunstreak swimsuit by Nasty Gal

Reverse Stevie Nicks Kimono by Nasty Gal

rising up platform sandal by Nasty Gal

photos by Jen Senn assisted by David Aronson

make-up + hair by Kayti Hurd

stargirl

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She was in her sun-drenched city bedroom, eating watermelon and watching 7th Heaven. It’s a noon wake-up call for a shoot in the East Village. Sipping from her watermelon with a blue swirl straw, she slurps the last hydrating drops as she heads over to her closet in pastel spirit.

She pulls leopards and glitter boots to the floor. She grabs her moon tee-shirt and stuffs it alongside everything else in her leopard Betsy Johnson bag. Star-nymph. All the roses in her house had died, but she promised to bring wine and flowers, so she grabbed the last french bottle that was in her fridge and ran out the door in search of the perfect roses.

She stopped by a small bodega in St. Marks and picked up a variety of colored flowers, because that’s how she was feeling that day. Blues, oranges, and reds spilled from the top of her bag as she arrived at Emma’s house.

They climbed the seven floor walk-up along with Brittanny and a few other stargirls. They threw their belongings everywhere — flowers fell on top of Marc Jacbos bags that spilled over Jeffrey Campbell shoe boxes and wine glasses.

Stargirl turned on her magic for the camera. She tapped into her second chakra to release her sexual and creative energy. She felt the love energy of the day come in through her seventh chakra and saw the beauty of everyone around her. She never realized how much she needed the attention of others to confirm her own presence. The world was free to flow through her, like a wave. She was rain, there was no difference between her and the universe. She opened her heart to let new love in. She played dress up in moon clothes, the age of Aquarius. A giant aquarium on top of the city. Manhattan sea horses and starfish, born to swim and be wild. The sun began to blur, and the sky became pink. They laughed and the moon sang.

night owl lenon sweater by wildfox

star bra lost sweater by wildfox

i miss ny poolside tank dress by wildfox

blue moon shipwrecked crew tee by wildfox

photos by Brittanny Taylor 

day in the life of a wildfox girl

Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.com Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comLittle blonde wildfox starts her day with the sun. It shimmers through her window in a luminous glow. The light alone is enough to make her jump from her bed in excitement. She runs into the kitchen, all excitement and little socks. Sliding on her wooden floors, she pours magical marshmallows into her favorite bowl. She perches in the window for morning reflections, she is thankful for the life she lives and the people in it. She sees cherry blossoms in the window, she believes in her heart that she will make the most of this day. Every day is a gift.

She throws on a white tank and sunglasses. She plays Coco Rosie and dances around her room and jumps on the bed. She feels alive in the light. The makeup, the curling iron, everything becomes part the getting ready process. It’s an enjoyable dance, becoming the girl with big blonde hair and bigger dreams. She lays back down for a second, but never to return to sleep. The morning breeze always has secrets to tell you, never go back to sleep. Divine inspiration is held in the clouds of the morning, this is where she finds her true purpose, her dharma. This little blonde wildfox was put here to make magic and inspire girls of the like, and that is precisely what she will do. She fills her notebook with doodles, Lisa Frank stickers and stories of love.

It’s the afternoon now and the little blonde wildfox decides to dress up as a mermaid. She feels like a barbie in her dream house. Making faces in the mirror with long locks and little limbs. She races up the elevator to her roof to dance around the sea that is Manhattan. Imagination is the greatest gift. Seashell kisses and pink sodas for lunch. Striped straws and laughs with friends, it’s a beautiful life.

As the hours pass, feeling as though no time has passed at all, she decides to head out and meet some friends at the sand bar. They drink from coconuts and snack on plantain chips. The have purple hibiscus flowers all over their food and drinks. She dances on the chairs and soaks in the company of her girlfriends. Life is but a fairytale under the Manhattan sea.

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clothing by Wildfox

photos by Brittanny Taylor