Category: editorial

bye-bye, blackbird

blackbird11blackbird6blackbird7blackbird5blackbird1blackbird2blackbird3blackbird4blackbird8blackbird10blackbirf14blackbird9blackbird12blackbird13Baby says she’s dying to meet you. Take you off and make your blood hum. Longing for the moonlight in a Manhattan city sky. Satellite gave up the ghost too soon. Fair skin and eyes in deep blue. If you’re a bird, I’m a bird. Elevator straight into my skull. We’re having a good time today, no thinking about tomorrow. But the world will have it’s way with you. It was like T.S. Eliot said, “What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”

Bye-bye, blackbird.

zofia gold metal necklace (from skeleton look)

tazmin gold plated crystal necklace (from white dress look)

gold crystal detail cuff (from peach look)

all jewelry from this editorial can be bought directly through Sequin-NYC 

photos by Jen Senn

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

wildfox, rachel lynch, i hate blonde, royal romanceBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comstory3Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comstory2Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comstory4Brittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comBrittanny Taylor Photography // brittannytaylor.comStargirl with a femme-fury. Bedroom walls covered with the solar system. She had the aura of a star.

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