Learning to embrace the divine feminine ⚢, 🌍 > 💰 Next, Omit

peacing out for now 🌿
@givenchyofficial F/W 2018 campaign by Steven Meisel - thank you so much @clarewaightkeller @suzannekoller @patrickli__ @pg_dmcasting @guidopalau @patmcgrathreal 🖤
working on this project for @miumiu with @carsonzehner was a total dream — I’m so grateful for getting to live out this seaside fantasy for a few days. thank you thank you @federiconessi @_____________lf___ @seiko_greenapple @kilianmarin @ellabellini 🌹 here’s to a summer of ambiguous friendship and carefree femininity 🌾🌞
Vogue Italia July 18 shot by Harley Weir 🌿
i hadn’t posted any of the work i did in june because i was transiting through a lot during that time BUT I really want to acknowledge the 3 new york based designers i got to work with last month who each embody a sense of compassion and ethics in fashion; grateful to be a little part of that process 🌱 so thank you @narciso_rodriguez @lorod @gabrielahearst and also thanks #jackwebb and #camillanickerson ❣️
beautiful exuberant being
there are three bars between the rhymes it takes to recognize my mistakes. its hard enough to begin with one, impossible to fit into two, but three makes a shape i didn’t anticipate, with just enough room to make myself new. i hold my split mind once intertwined of “nots” I’ve long since untied, wishing I could remember how to put two and three back together because I just want to be confined. i continue to dream of threes, of being free, of building pillars to dance between - it takes two words to make three, two yous to make me, me.
I stayed up through the sunrise in a spree of self-indulgence, circling my mind around pain over and over, because deep at my center I know I enjoy pain. As the sunrise set into the dark light of day, I passed out with evil intimately inside of me. In this moment I accept that I walk with the devil, because I know the devil is my better side and has an ever watchful eye. I move bathed anew in orange-blue, and I still bear multitudes. I flop around a slippery tongue sore from insufficient metaphors. I cry through a foggy brain made guinea pig from running racetracks around mysteries and missed histories. I trace a trail of scar tissue that runs deep in the well of my being, mapping out the well-worn grooves of pleasure points to pain. I still drag a broken wrist of bastard feeling. These are sigils I set to seek self-assurance, ways to make my words have weight. I have set these choices on a scale. I’m familiar now with scales, and knowing my own weight. Morning calls, mourning calls. I walk through cold shadows on a hot summer day and offer a token to the ashes of my insecure body.
my heart was full at the dyke march on saturday, my eyes teary as I was walking down 5th and seeing gay moms and their kids - including breastfeeding babies. it’s beautiful to witness so many different displays of queer love, joy and solidarity with friends and women I love. and I got to dance along to the dyke drummers 😩 lesbians really are miracles 🤸🏻‍♀️
girl at heart
sometimes new york is scarily beautiful and it gets to me (I couldn’t just leave this on my story bc I want to look back at it and get lost in the lines)
@wmag giving teeth and a little bit of tongue 💋🖤@harleyweir @kegrand @bitton ❤️
Thank you @wmag for this print/online feature 🌾 @harleyweir @kegrand @bitton you’re British diamonds in a rough-hewn industry ❣️ There’s a link in my bio to see the full story, where I got to talk about the veil being lifted in our present moment and which features some folx I really adore 💝
I’m super late on posting any of these photos but @actuallynicholas hung out with me for @thelovemagazine and it was really cute 💗 so here’s me channeling my American Gothic Iowan roots but at a cafe in Brooklyn 🌾
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