Brielle Nicole Marciano, Based in NYC. Queer femme. Freelance stylist & Fashion student @ Parsons The New School for Design. I can't live without chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.
This is a fashion blog with subtle deviations every once in a while.
Stay cunty,
Brie.
Astrid Bergès-Frisbey photographed by Ellen von Unwerth for Vogue Italia, March 2012
(via bohemea)
Carmen And Torero, Natasha Poly photographed by Patrick Demarchelier for Vogue Russia, May 2013
I REALLY hope I get this job. The interviewer was really cool & made me feel at ease. He told me that they needed people working under him ASAP, & I was telling him about my love for fashion & my time at Parsons & he seemed really impressed & I know i left him with a good impression…
& i’m almost positive that this second interview means i’m gonna bag this fucking job.
& if I bag this job, I’ll have something to tell my parents that’ll soften the blow and also serve as a precursor to me telling them i’m going away to toronto for the weekend…
But deadass though, toronto. fucking CANADA. I’ve wanted to go to canada since I was fucking twelve. I’ve never been out of the country without my family before & when my best friend called me with this opportunity I had to say yes. If not for me, than for my twelve year old self that has wanted this forever. Plus…canada has some of the best cannabis in the world. When does an opportunity like this find it’s way into your life ever? I neeed this.
And that’s why I hope I get this job.
Magazine: Vogue US July 1984
Photographer: Kazumi Kurigami
Model: Annie Lennox
(Source: periodicult, via bohemea)
Guise I have a second inrerview at Cosi on friday ^__^
I really need this. I need to make some bread and move the fuck out.
So yeah, send me good vibes & energy please !
It never fails. I’m finally alone & I feel everything rising up inside of me. And it hurts. I’m sober and I hate it. I wish just once I wouldn’t have to face feeling like this on my own. I don’t even know what brought this on…I just wish I was out of this really dark place.
I haven’t had a conversation with my therapist in two weeks. I have not the slightest fucking clue when i’m gonna be seeing her again, and that really hurts. She’s the only person who just gets me. I don’t go to anybody with my problems but here because she has to listen. I miss her.
All in all, I can’t really say if this week was bad or good or indifferent. It was just me getting high & drunk, hitting the bar & slipping into bed at 4 in the morning and waking up and not remembering anything…with a couple kisses for good measure.
Sigh. I’ve only been on break for a couple of weeks and this is what I get into. I don’t even wanna go back for the summer semester. I don’t even wanna work. Something has got to give. I’m really hoping that at some point in this spring/summer, I stop blaming myself for everything and actually just take in some joy.
I’ll be the first to admit that i’m a bitter daughter. I am a the daughter of a woman who couldn’t love me the way I needed her to. I’m twenty years old now & i’m re-learning everything about love & scratching out all the traumas i’ve endured .
Though faith, and other avenues, i’ve learned to do Mother’s Day without being disrespectful and lashing out.
I may not love my biological mother, but I will honnor her today by not speaking ill of her in any way, shape or form.
When I look back on my life, it’s not that I don’t want to see things exactly as they happened.
It’s just that i prefer to remember them in a artistic way.
And truthfully, the lie of it all is much more honest, because I invented it.
Clinical psychology tells us arguably that trauma is the ultimate killer.
Memories are not recycled like atoms and particles in quantum physics.
They can be lost forever.
It’s sort of like my past is an unfinished painting; and as the artist of that painting, I must fill in all the ugly holes and make it beautiful again.
It’s not that i’ve been dishonest, it’s just that I loathe reality.
For example, those nurses, they’re wearing next-season Calvin Klein.
And so am I.
And the shoes: custom Giuseppe Xnote
I tipped their gauze caps to the side like persian berets.
Because I think it’s romantic, and I also believe that mint will be very big in fashion next spring.
Check out this nurse on the right, she’s got a great ***.
Bam.
The truth is, back then at the clinic, they only wore those funny hats to keep the blood out of their hair.
And that girl on the left, she ordered gummy bears and a knife a couple of hours ago.
They only gave her the gummy bears.
I wish they’d only given me the gummy bears.
I got my pandora on so i guess i’m good.
Every morning this week i’ve woken up naked in bed confused as shit as what happened the night before.
