the girl at the rock show

Hanging out behind the club on the weekend
Acting stupid, getting drunk with my best friends
I couldn't wait for the summer and the Warped Tour
I remember it's the first time that I saw her there

She's getting kicked out of school 'cause she's failing
I'm kinda nervous, 'cause I think all her friends hate me
She's the one, she'll always be there
She took my hand and I made it I swear

Because I fell in love with the girl at the rock show
She said, "What?" and I told her that I didn't know
She's so cool, gonna sneak in through her window
Everything's better when she's around
I can't wait 'til her parents go out of town
I fell in love with the girl at the rock show

When we said we were gonna move to Vegas
I remember the look her mother gave us
17 without a purpose or direction
We don't owe anyone a fucking explanation

harnesses by Teale Coco

black lingerie set by Nasty Gal

stud jacket by Nasty Gal

photos by Jonathan Fasulo 

some get stoned, some get strange

I came across pictures I tried to forget yesterday. Am I the sum character of my experiences or a character derived from who I dream myself to be? 

There's no blame, for how our love did slowly fade. Did you want me to be more wonderful? Because I think I wanted that of you. 

Despite everything, we couldn't seem to stay out of each other's lives. 

Sometimes, I think on some level, we know the person we are going to be in our lives. We know the souls we match with, and the ones we don't. And the one's we don't, teach us the most about ourselves. Your soulmate from a universal perspective could be your worst enemy. They are the ones who teach you that you haven't mastered yourself yet. 

"An artist? What if you fail?" 

You see, it never occurred to me, I could fail. For you, it was all you conceptualize. The very palpable risk of failure was never real to me. For you, it was everything. It's why I chose a different life than you, why our paths traversed, and separated back again. In a meditation, I left the crystal paved trail through the woods, and drifted into the unknown. You have only ever walked the path, therefore we could never walk together perpetually. 

Everyone's afraid of their own life, and no one really knows the one's they love. Myself included. My lover is a stranger. 

But what I have come to learn in these past few months, is that art is a process. It is play, and it is failure. It is new experiences and new people. It is outside my comfort zone, and it is grander than my ideals. 

Everything derives from an idea, and details matter. The lo-fi glamour of it all. 

I'm just glad I was born into this dimension to contemplate it. 

tee-shirt + white fur by Gypsy Warrior

leather jackets by The Arrivals

rings by The 2 Bandits

photographed by Jamie Schultz

transatlanticism

They don't tell you to want what you know you should want. Indigo minds fade into a hologram of consumerism details. Caught up in desiring things we never really wanted, we pursue them with the artistic passion that was meant for something greater, like pouring the beauty of our souls onto canvases and into notebooks. 

We have to fight everyday to be awake here. We have to fight to keep our eyes on the trees and the humans, and not the advertisements. 

New York becomes a different kind of jungle when you learn to live in it this way. 

x 

dress by Motel Rocks

hat by Lack of Color

jewels by Wren + Glory

sunglasses by Dior

photos by Matt XIV

the sound of settling - death cab for cutie

I've got a hunger twisting my stomach into knots. The desire to be alive and in it all, down the depths of the Soho streets. But really, I'm just attracting stares, and this is Sunday, and I want a second cup of coffee. Nothing really is, it's just thinking that makes it so. 

So after wandering the avenues and letting the blue skies kiss my shoulder-blades, I'll sit back down for another cup. I'll try to write some words but nothing will come out. And instead,  I'll sit and wonder of every love that could've been. My brain is a master of "what-if" scenarios. Anything to escape from the silent stillness of this present moment. This is Sunday afternoon in Soho. 

x 

red fur coat by ASOS

romper by Motel Rocks

necklace by Wren + Glory

hat by Lack of Color

photos by Matt XIV

be careful what you set your heart upon, for it will surely be yours

I spent most of last week between photoshoots and blog work exploring my new neighborhood. I recently moved to the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Being that for the past 2.5 years of life in New York, I've prided myself on being a Brooklyn/East Village "never go above 14th street" type girl, I have to say that I was speaking from a place of complete ignorance. There is nothing more beautiful now then waking up on the West Side of Central Park and going for a long morning run through it's rolling hills. Then coming home to good coffee and a view of the Hudson River. I'm so excited to be outside of Brooklyn and really get to spend the beginning of this year exploring new stomping grounds. 

xx 

leopard coat by ASOS

playsuit by Mink Pink

red velvet boots by Y.R.U.

photos by Phillip Van Nosstrand

rock n roll suicide

 Took to the streets of the East Village last Thursday night and visited a bright pink record store, along with some other hidden gems. There's always something new to discover when you live in New York, it doesn't matter how long you've lived here, something will always sneak up on you, surprise you, humble you, and make you feel as though you've never really seen anything at all. 

xx

red fur jacket by asos

bowie shirt by gypsy warrior

sailor moon choker from the Americana Blonde collection

boots by Y.R.U.

photos by We Good Looking

she's got a such dirty mind, and it never ever stops

She don't think straight. She's got such a dirty mind, and it never ever stops. Rolling around in hotel room beds on the Lower East Side. She says the right things, she acts the wrong way. Hands into her skin like a smoking gun underneath me. I pull myself away, take a break on the balcony. Cigarettes in between fingers with chipped black polish. Another night slipped away into the darkness, the hours melt. I feel myself in you. 

You don't taste like her, you never will. And we don't read the papers and we don't read the news. We run away to Mexico, we slip underwater. We can't escape ourselves, we can't escape all the hours left in the day. 

Some things will never be different. 

Cause you know I'm on fire when you call. 

fur jacket from nasty gal

thong by for love and lemons

photos by Dustin

girl afraid - the smiths

Of course another purchase I had to make from Nasty Gal was this adorable Bow Romper. I paired it with my new Celine sunnies and this wonderful Lack of Color hat. If you haven't checked them out on instagram, you should! They're the most gorgeous hat makers out of Australia. 

Anyways, I'm super inspired and happy to be back home in New York City. I recently moved to the Upper West Side and have been enjoying my morning run in Central Park. I've got two more photoshoots this week, and I'm just feeling so inspired with Bowie's passing. He lived such a beautiful, full and creative life. I think I might stop by his house this weekend to leave some flowers or a poem. The world is overwhelming and full of beauty, you just have to shift into seeing it that way. 

x 

bow romper from Nasty Gal

sunglasses by Celine

hat by Lack of Color

photos by Christina Emilie

hard to explain - the strokes

Here's a little look I shot in the West Village yesterday. I recently had to purchase this dress off Nasty Gal while I was in Morocco. The cut and print are too magical. It's the dress I picture when I think of myself being a young artist, spending my afternoons writing poems in coffee shops. Since it was kind of cold, I paired it with some thigh-high socks and leather lace up boots. Lack of Color also send me this hat while I was away, so I really wanted to style it into a look. I think I've worn this dress three days in a row and counting, but who's really counting? 

xx 

dress from Nasty Gal

hat by Lack of Color

photos by Christina Emilie

so rich, so pretty

"I like a girl with caked up makeup. In the sunshine, smoking cigarettes to pass the time. Who wakes up to a bottle of wine on the nightstand, bites and scratches the blinds. 

Her apartment best be messy, Alisa don't mind when I call her Leslie. 

She's gotta dress with class and Jean Paul Gaultier and a Hermes bag. And four inch tips made of ostrich. Sharp enough to slit your wrists, her lips spread gossip. 

Won't say sorry when she offends, she comes over to my place in her old man's Benz. In gold and silver and jewels of all colors, and she doesn't take them off when we're tearing up the covers. 

I like a girl who eats and brings it up, a sassy little frassy with bulimia. Her best friend's a plastic surgeon, and when her beamer's in the shop she rolls the Benz. 

Manis and pedis on Sundays and Wednesdays, money from mommy, lovely in Versace. Costly sprees, it's on at Barney's, and I love to watch her go through fifty g's calmly.

She gets naught with her pilates body and thinks it's really funny when her nose goes bloody. Cause the blow is so yummy and it keeps her tummy empty and makes her act more friendly. 

Dance the night away, and she won't say nothing when she makes your man stray." 

shop this entire editorial now on Depop

photos by Dustin Genereux