safe haven.


i’ve been longing for your arrival. it’s a little past 3am and you said you’ll be here by tomorrow. i know i’m a little anxious but the scratches on my neck are getting a little too itchy and i need a distraction.

so to kill time i make my way down the spiral staircase and out the back door. i stroll down the alley and stand under my favorite streetlight. i like standing under streetlights because the buzzing of the flies is a calming rhythm to me. it reminds me that they too want to be warm and surrounded.

from this haven i wonder what you’re doing. maybe putting on your favorite lipstick that matches the dark plum sweater you wore that night we both decided no one else matters. or maybe you’re standing directly in front of the headlights of an old lady’s BMW moments before she forgets to hit the brakes. like that night you were rushing to get to the train station. but instead you were left under a streetlight. just past 3am. surrounded by flies buzzing to the rhythm of this calm, breathless moment.

i’m not sure when you’re arriving, and i’m not sure why i repeat this routine every night. maybe i’m learning from this. maybe it’s true what they say:

 “that reality is never what i imagine it to be from the safe haven of introspection.”


SHOES by Jeffrey Campbell
 SKIRT by Forever21

Photos by Rachel Lynch

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night dweller.

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i liked you. you were a night dweller like me. out of this world. speaking on behalf of your passions even if it killed you.

and i still see your old habits in me. bar soap not liquid. frozen section then produce. act then try to remember why you acted that way.

it’s a night dweller thing. we can’t see far enough ahead to make strategic decisions. instead we use our skin- touching, dabbing, feeling, scratching at the surface. at night you can’t see what mistakes you’ve made. you can’t see scratched faces. you abuse comfort. hiding in the crowd, their vision is just as dark as yours. their minds equally as smeared. like you, like me: dwelling, killing, passionately.


DAMSEL SHOE by Jeffrey Campbell

Photos by Tyke Riggs

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hearts: foolish.


our love is fragile, our hearts foolish, and our logic out the door. we’re young, we’re in love, and we’re fucking scared.


first outfit:
TOP by Cheer Up! Clothing

second outfit:
TOP by Title Unknown
PANTS by Kimchi Blue

SHOES by Jeffrey Campbell

photos by I HATE BLONDE

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nyfw day 4


The Sunday of fashion week was a bit more relaxed but productive. I spent 1.5 hours in a cab stuck in traffic on my way to interviewing the ladies of Veer NYC (look out for the interview next week). After fan-girling over Jenny and Allie of Veer at a cute little cafe in East Village, I met up with a few friends for a quick bite before the #socialyteGala, which mostly involved champaign, the Menswear Dog and… lots of mini veggie burgers.

The night naturally ended at The Hudson when we were all a little over human faces.


My outfit:
TOP by Urban Outfitters
HENDRIX PANTS by Our Prince of Peace

SHOES by Jeffrey Campbell

Top two photos by event photographers
See rest of event photos here

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against gravity

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your eyelids push against gravity and slowly begin to open, letting in the vision you wish you could change about the world. you rise from bed and make your way towards the closed back porch, following the speckle of light dancing on the ladder to the roof. you climb up the ladder, secure one foot on the roof then the other. fully arose, a breeze of fresh air overcomes the stale dungeon of your lungs. you turn around to face the city in front of you. the rushing winds howl at you, as if you owe them something. you take in a single breath, filling your lungs with another chance at making things happen. you exhale, letting out everything that never worked out and never will. against gravity, you let go.


JACKET by Jac Vanek
SHOES by Jeffrey Campbell

photos by I HATE BLONDE


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my thoughts run wild. like thorns on a bush. the same ones i used to stitch your sweater with. so you’d itch for more. so you’d feel. but now these thoughts are fenced off in a small vacant room. with a single lamp in the corner. flickering to the rhythm of the mistake of us being here, togetherso i grab a hold of your wrist to smash that light. because tonight is the night i’ll sleep, aloneand in my sleep I’ll dream of silence. and let go of days when I itched to make you feel.



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blind, dreaming


you said the blind are dreamers and that’s exactly what kept us from dreaming. we saw too much and we felt too much to take any of it in. i promised, when we sat there with our legs crossed and our fates parallel, that i’d be there when your days feel like a long, poorly lit hallway. but i didn’t promise to be a crutch at your leisure. it’s true that the mayhem is what got me onto you to begin with, but it was exactly that – the mayhem i misunderstood as unique – that kept me floating above just far enough above the ground with my heart laying against its will, in its mold. i surrendered to my place.

you said the blind can dream too so now you’re just blindly dreaming.


BLACK JUMPSUIT by Mustard Seed
DAMSEL SPIKE SHOE by Jeffrey Campbell

Photos by Calvin Bellas

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blind to the bone

blind to the bone,
i saw nothing but the pretty pattern of the pores on your back
white sheets, heat waves, bodies melt aside
you’re hot to the touch but i’m not afraid

you said you know my kind
you know exactly how we are
you said people such as i jump clouds and are starry eyed
and that we’re your favorite kind


GEOGRAPHER KIT TEE by Cheer Up Clothing
CLAW NECKLACE by Rings & Tings
SPIKE WEDGE by Jeffrey Campbell

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riding on the rhythm

the best things about being alone are

not having to share the leftovers
sleeping on whichever side of the bed i want
riding on the rhythm of my thoughts, untouched

but then i think about you

and how the worst thing about being alone is
that you’re alone, too.


BON VOYAGE NECKLACE by Cheer Up Clothing
TRICOT GARTER BELT by American Apparel
SPIKE WEDGE by Jeffrey Campbell

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