Fashion Story: Spellbound
The dream is the small hidden door in the deepest and most intimate sanctum of the soul, which opens to that primeval cosmic night that was soul long before there was conscious ego and will be soul far beyond what a conscious ego could ever reach.
Freyja as Laura
Recurring night time. Faith decides for me to be The White. Apples of misery turn into precious youth-ever-lasting gifts. Harmony stretches her arms upon the Chaos things and Freyja finally means Free, as it should be. Remember, pale and blighted passes their beauty, old and weak waste they away, if ever I should fail them. Then the end comes and the shiny absence of colours leaves no trace: the awakening darkens these golden trees revealing their inner rot and my open eyes can find something of beauty in it. White Eve. Black Eve. I’m not sure anymore.
Persephone as Dasha
Follow me! I can see the aurora from the Arcane garden enlighten the last steps of this boundless staircase and there I will have all the time to prepare silently your favorite dish.
Don’t fear me, Haides!
I will cut your throat on the first day of winter not allowing you to see the knife. That sacred day, the white bells of the underworld will ring a miserable anthem of freedom while I’ll be sleeping like a baby on your breathless chest.
Discordancy will reign until the Spring’s risen once again and, after I’ve retched the remains of that damned feast, finally I’ll be free to come back where I belong.
Hecate as Anna
Running in circles -circle runs.
Greek marbles somewhere in Rome -or in no place at all. The shades on the soil grow free from the sunshine. Perfection has no description. Pure forms need silence.
It’s Me in my night shift.
One and three lines recursively replaced with one whole shape. Permutations of the self. Em as three is present, past and future. My oldest part protects the eyes of the youngest one with hands of wisdom. Substantial me sees straight through the fourth wall -but present is always overwhelmed by desires. Time will do wrong till the end of time.
Witchery they say -Opening I say.
Spirits dream a Universe where every other spirit dreams. How I wanted it! But now, why do I feel so lonely here?
left: anna wears a dress by Rick Owens – right: a coat by Amaya Arzuaga
Nyx as Kate
parsimonious temper at her darkest edge of sleep:
“At the beginning there was only Chaos and the Abyss. Earth, Air and Heaven had no existence. Just darkness, no light, as Chaos is One, cannot be split in parts: it has no beginning, middle nor an end. Nor limits or forms, nor opposites or differences. And there was no Eros and his love. No Thanatos and his death.
Nothing yet Infinity, a restless absolute.
How would the change take place?”
She is traveling the wrong way. It’s a misunderstanding.
Kate wears all garments by Wanda Nylon.
Maia as Audrey
I was used to get born every morning, now, of the stars, I’m a shy aberration.
Everything blowed in, I didn’t notice it, didn’t realize. My sweet child, the little turtle, didn’t appear to me. Now, with eyes shut, I keep staring at him from here. Last night, the desire, or the hallucination, went beyond the flesh. He was with Nobody, showing him the Nature through the Moly’s rip. And there was a bearded man, attended by a nagging shadow, whispering logòs over and over. The light, absent when he came into the world, now shines everywhere, turned into glory.
Will Morpheus, the Nyx’s child, still inflicting on me this warm torture, this agonizing play?
Chimera moved by an ardour that will equal the act.
Audrey wears all garments by Lutz Huelle.
photography and words: Glaza Kinski
fashion and words: Anca Macavei
make up and hair: Eva Ronçay
muses: Laura at Marilyn Paris, Dasha at Evidence, Anna at Marilyn Paris, Kate at Up Models, Audrey at New Madison.
A fashion story first published on Nasty Magazine – The Sacred Issue, photographed by Glaza Kinski and styled by Anca Macavei.
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