C R A S H ￼Flashing lights of the metropolis. Stretched coaches cruise the steaming asphalt. Never sure what they carry. Hidden behind tinted glass. Like whales they glide through crowded streets, stolid and majestic. for a future IV: but what if we are not alive? Somewhere there among the remnants of the great pacific island, the blooming vortex of the world, roughly between 135°W to 155° Wand 35°N and 42°N in the accelerated rage… [read more »]
Raise your hand if you’re a Martine Rose boy. We were taken this season by her shoplifter proportions, out of left field obsession with beer, and a realist portrayal of something we can’t quite pin down. Martine also somehow managed to sustain the relevancy of the crop top while totally demeaning the shoe.