ROCKET, Ritual by Justin Miller

CONTENTS

05 06 07

Masthead From the Editor On Ritual

INTERVIEWS 08 Sally von Streusel 14 Aidan Smith 16 Patrick Jenkins 20 ANON EDITORIALS 24 Take, Eat 32 Love Hymn to Aphrodite 46 Then The Letting Go

ROCKET Founder + Editor-in-Chief Justin Miller Art Director Selden Koolman Photo Chief Gianna Baiges Parilla Features Editor Eden Stuart Booking Editor Katie Sharp Beauty Editor Francesca Rizzo Photography Grayson Cooke, Samantha Reichman, Matthew Riley Beauty Elizabeth Ostick, Ellen Berry, Gladys Shaw, Justine Whelan, Jenny Horowitz

S + S 13 Vol. III, Issue 2 05

FROM THE EDITOR Ritual comes from the Latin ritualis, which means “relating to rites.” Though this translation refers to those rites mainly pertained to the thin lines of religion, rituals—not matter flamboyant or mundane—weave throughout our entire course of life. The very word itself still harbors a religious, perhaps occult, connotation; ROCKET does its best to capture some of the most intrinsically innate rituals. The very magazine you hold, in fact, begins its ritual with the cover photo, which depicts the Two of Swords tarot card, the paradigm incarnation of feminine intuition and reliance of inner sense. This card reminds us that we too must blindfold ourselves and tap into our unconscious mind, into the higher self. The Neo-Puritan “Take, Eat” presents a post-apocalyptic dinner, stuffed with octopus, pomegranate seeds, and chicken liver. Eating is one of the most commonly unrecognized rituals of the age, an age in which the art and procedure of actually sitting down to feast has waned in ceremonialism. “Love Hymn to Aphrodite” represents our musing on an inversion of the legendary Judgment of Paris, giving our icy spring bride three grooms from which to choose—or devour. The story ends tragically, however, because what else is more embedded with ritual than tragedy? In no way is ROCKET advocating violence toward women. In fact, our suicidal siren acts as a stark reminder of the mortality of beauty, love, and grace. She too serves as the catalyst for our mourning grooms, all of which experience grief in their own distinct way. Whether the torment and withering of one’s soul, the exploration of occult arts to revive the dead, or even feeding the heart with pernicious, fleshy engagements, each man faces the ritualistic reactions to death itself. All in all, this issue of ROCKET sets the bar high when it comes to collegiate fashion-arts based publications. From its initial launch two years ago, ROCKET has soared higher than ever expected under the guidance of a highly dedicated and skilled cabal of creatives. With the combined artistic vision of this magazine and the help of Sally von Streusel, Aidan Smith, Patrick Jenkins, and our enigmatic Anonymity, this issue is absolute proof that our lives are filled with powerful behaviors rooted in our vast, yet limited, existence as creatures of ritual. -Justin

“

One could almost say that man is a ceremonial animal...when one sees that...men also perform actions which bear a characteristic peculiar to themselves, and these could be called ritualistic actions. But then it is nonsense for one to go on to say that the characteristic feature of these actions is the fact that they arise from faulty views about the physics of things. Rather, the characteristic feature of a ritualistic action is not at all a view, an opinion, whether or false...The historical explanation, the explanation as an hypothesis of development, is only one way of assembling the data--of their synopsis. It is just as possible to see the data in their relation to one another and to embrace them in a general picture without putting it in the form of an hypothesis about temporal development... ‘And so the chorus points to a secret law!’ one feels like saying to [ James Frazer’s] collection of facts. I can represent this law, this idea, by means of an evolutionary hypothesis, or also, analogously to the schema of a plant, by means of a schema of a religious ceremony, but also by means of the arrangement of its factual content alone, in a ‘perspicuous’ representation...an entire mythology is hidden within our language. -Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Occasions

Sally von Streusel would like to entertain you. She’s not a comedian or an actress, a singer or a dancer. In a way, you could say that she’s all three—just without the clothes. The William and Mary student, feminist, sorority sister, and “fancy stripper,” talks costumes, craft, and the rituals undertaken in becoming a twenty first century burlesque maven. How long have you been doing burlesque? I took my first burlesque class in July 2011, as a birthday present to myself, the summer before my first semester at William and Mary. It seems that there’s been a really big Renaissance in the early 21th century of burlesque. Dita Von Teese, Cabaret Red Light… by the time that awful Christina Aguilera movie came out, it seemed like burlesque had officially gone mainstream. Do you think that that’s helpful to the movement, in terms of getting the world out, or a little detrimental to the artistry? Pretty helpful for me personally—like, that’s what my boyfriend’s mom thinks I do, but really, we’re just fancy strippers. The things that are described as burlesque don’t fully describe what we do it all. It’s kind of misinformed. And I don’t like it that it’s usually to sell something, and burlesque is not about money at all. We don’t make that much money at all; we make enough money to fund our next project. That’s the difference between fancy strippers and regular strippers. Dita von Teese is obviously the one making the most money out of all of us; there are lots of professionals living in New York and stuff, but they aren’t living in high rises or anything. I feel like there’s a big difference in the connotations when you say you dance burlesque as opposed to saying you’re a stripper. Definitely. I identify as a stripper, but not everyone in the burlesque community does. I heard an interesting take on it the other day: would strippers want to be identified with what [I’m] doing? And I had never really thought of it that way. Deepa Du Jour came up with the term “fancy stripping” and really, that’s what we’re doing. But again, I think the environment is really different. The gaze is different, to use a more scholarly term. And everybody is celebrated; if you’re celebrated more, it’s not because your body is bet-

ter, but because you’re just more badass. But my perception could be off. I never thought anyone was seeing it sexually or getting boners in the audience, but [when I said that] to two guys who did burlesque, they were like, “Really? You don’t think there’s anyone getting boners in the audience?” I had never thought of someone getting a boner in the audience. It was so strange! But it is still sexual, I suppose. I think a lot of burlesque is so much about body positivity and acceptance, too. Yeah, it’s all genders. A drag queen hosts my shows, I have boys in my show—I always try to have boys. It’s all genders, all sizes, all ages, and I love that about it. For people of different able bodiedness or orientations: this is the place, and the queer community for sure. So who would you say are some of your biggest burlesque inspirations? Like, icons in the field that you really look up to? Every burlesque scene is so different, and for me, Richmond is all that I know—it’s all that I’ve experienced. I mean, I’ve performed in Balitmore and D.C., but my mentors are in Richmond: Dolli Holiday and Deepa De Jour. They really kind of taught me all that I know, and when I decided to start producing they were behind me one hundred percent and they are just the most fabulous people in the world. What would say has been your best experience so far on your Richmond show, Little Show Peep? When you get to a venue, like Gallery 5 in Richmond, you don’t really know how many tickets you’ve sold till you get there. For one of the shows, the bartender came up to me and said, “Do you want to hear something awesome? We’ve sold 120 tickets, presale.” We ended up selling out [the show], and having to turn people away at the door; and that was so incredible because there’s always this fear that nobody is going to show up. I have a show next Saturday and I’m still terrified that no one will show up. Your costumes, your storyline, your routines— where do these ideas come from? I think that every time I hear a song, I imagine 09

myself stripping to it. Like, “Is this strippable?” and a lot of times, the answer is no; but often, that’s where I start, with a song, or with a piece of clothing. Like for my next routine, I’m doing a number in this floor length, 40s inspired green sequined gown, and everything else will come out of that. It starts with that sort of centerpiece and everything else just kind of falls into place around that. What goes into your costuming? Well I’m wearing this today, but I would never, ever go onstage in this outfit. It’s classic pin up and good for a photoshoot, but someone could buy it off the rack. It’s a huge faux pas to not do anything to your clothes before you go onstage. For a dress it’s fine, but for something like a bra, 10

you need to put fringe, rhinestones, lace, studs, something to make it yours, or else you are not going to be respected. It’s just lazy, really. People come for a spectacle. They didn’t come to see you in some pretty, expensive Victoria’s Secret bra they could buy for themselves. Costuming is probably my biggest obstacle, though. I my strongest suits are stage presence and concepts and production. Costuming is hard, because I’m not as visually creative. There are a ton of people in the Richmond scene with art degrees, but I have to work harder and it takes longer to come up with something badass. So much work and thought goes into looking effortless. Any shows that have just gone horrifically awry in the past?

05 11

Well, maybe not, but there’s always little things that go wrong. Like, I’ve never popped a pasty. Here’s the context: in the burlesque world, when a pasty falls off your boob when you’re onstage, it’s called popping a pasty. That’s why we don’t say break a leg—you never say break a leg. You say ‘pop a pasty,’ when someone is about to go onstage. Well I’ve never popped a pasty, and that’s good, but the last time I performed I was in Baltimore; it was like four of us performing. We all got a little too drunk [before I got onstage] and I had just taken off all my clothes when I fell straight into a lady’s lap, totally naked. Thankfully I wasn’t wearing a merkin or anything. That was probably the worst thing, but it wasn’t that bad. Just cringe worthy. What’s your biggest challenge in balancing a burlesque career with your academics and extracurricular involvements on campus? William and Mary is the biggest detriment to my burlesque activities! I’m in Williamsburg; burlesque is in Richmond. I can’t wait to graduate and just have a space of my own and be able to perform and not have to worry about doing a paper I don’t care about at all. I kind of want to do a graduate burlesque routine with my cap and gown and stuff, so we’ll see about that. I actually dance with a girl that went to William and Mary, and so did one of the guys that works on my show. So yeah, there are definitely other William and Mary people on the Richmond scene. Not gonna lie, when I think about William and Mary, the Richmond burlesque scene is not the first thing that comes in my head, but that’s pretty cool. Yeah, and people treat you differently when they find out that you’re a stripper and a William and Mary student, or a stripper and a feminist—like it’s a contradiction. I don’t think it is; the biggest part of feminism, my personal feminism, is sex positivity and not slut shaming. I personally feel empowered through burlesque. It’s so consensual; it’s just such a relationship of comfort and understanding. And maybe that’s not every scene; I’ve been to shows and been like, “You know, this feels really different.” It’s not a “Wow, you’re so cool and I love your costume” energy, but a “Yay, your boobs are out” thing. And that’s fun too, but, like, it feels different. 12

Our theme this issue is ritual. What does ritual mean to you? I think ritual has a big place in burlesque, because, I mean, just getting ready for a performance is such a ritual. And I always do the same things, over and over. I always put on one set of eyelashes perfectly, and I always want to pull my damn hair out cause I just cannot get the other set on right. That is a ritual, like before I go onstage, that happens to me. Getting ready is sort of a ritual of coming into your character. I didn’t take my wig or costume off before I talked to you because I need to be in my character, and it feels strangely to be Sally when you’re just a normal person. So I think styling has a lot to do with it, and costumes have a lot to do with it. There’s such a ritual in enforcing your name with your character. Nobody calls me by my real name backstage, even if they know it; they call me Sally. It can sometimes feel weird, like an obstacle, when you’re driving four hours to a show and have to call me “Sally” the whole time. Sometimes it’s a detriment, but usually it’s an enforcement of the character that is so important to the audience. How could someone get into the burlesque scene? Take classes! You can take them in Norfolk at the Norfolk Institute of Burlesque with Lily Liqueur, or in Richmond with Deanna Danger at Boom Boom Basics. I would definitely say everyone should do it. If you could give ROCKET a burlesque name, what would you give it? Oh God, I get this all the time! So much goes into a burlesque name—so much. What’s ROCKET’s character? What are you going for? Are you going to be pin up-y? Larger than life? Male or female? Does it matter? Sometimes I’ll name them, but most of the time it’s totally you—you have to think of it for yourself. When people are coming into the scene and are naming themselves, they’ll be like, “What do you think of this?” The thing is, nobody ever like’s anybody’s name, even if it’s the best name. You just have to own it. -Eden Stuart Photography by Gianna Baiges Parilla

IN THE

CLOWN’S DRESSING ROOM So, the same character but a different actor?

AN INTERVIEW WITH AIDAN SMITH

Basically as an actor and a character I’m playing toward the audience. I want to make me as an actor the best actor for the audience, and me as a character the best character for the audience. Have you ever walked off stage—or any focal point of attention—and didn’t remember the actually living through the performance?

Aidan Smith was shocked when he was cast as the eponymous leading role in last fall’s production of Pippin while simultaneously accepted into the Improvisational Theater group. And that was just in his first semester. When the bright-eyed Aiden and I sat down to talk about rituals, performing, and his public persona, he proved that though he isn’t sure what’s in store next, the future will undoubtedly unravel with a smile and a joke. Tell me about some of your rituals. Before a show I judge how I will act on the stage by peeking through the curtain. I pride myself on my ability to do that. I judge the audience, like the size, the age range; it always kinds of helps me help me find out how I should act on stage. Whether or not I should really exaggerate or speak really clearly. I know I really shouldn’t look through the curtains, but I want to give the best performance. So every performance is different for you? Yeah, there are a lot of variations. And sometimes I can’t even tell that I’m a different [character], some other people may tell, but usually I will say lines differently depending on the audience.

No, actually. When it comes to presentations or something like that, yeah, but it’s usually because I’m nervous, but I always calm down. Yeah, I guess in certain instances things go unexpected and I end up not remembering or messing up a little. I guess I have had some of those moments; I’ll wake up the next day and just be like, “What happened yesterday?” It was so awesome that I just don’t remember. I actually have some moments like that beforehand. Like the opening night of Footloose of my senior year—that night I had insane tingles and that’s all I remember about that night. Define ‘ritual.’ Ritual to me is the need to entertain people. To constantly be, not funny, but just expressive, exaggerative, outgoing—just in way that catches people’s attention. Ritual to me can be found in me just walking across campus, or the stage, or in my IT shows. Almost always, I just like to be funny and in a good mood. In order to get people’s attention, I have to be exaggerative, I have to be entertaining. Why do you feel the need to have people’s attention? I like knowing that people are listening to me.

That is one of the worst things to me, when people don’t listen to me. I think my opinion is just as good as other people’s opinions. But are you afraid that you will be thought of as the flippant guy, the guy who no one really knows because he’s always funny? It’s good because when it comes to first impressions, usually if I’m entertaining or funny, I’m fine that people know me by that first impression. I’m not always entertaining. I could never live in a façade. I have my bad days, when I don’t want to talk to people. I usually don’t tell anyone because I don’t want to be rude about it. Do you have any habitual rituals, or habits, that are active in your daily life? Apparently, I have a nervous tic. I’m in a beginning acting class and my professor pointed out that I have a nervous tic that I never knew about. So now I’m catching myself doing it; involuntarily ticking my head. A lot of your energy is spent on synthesizing— you’re a synthesizer. You take nervous energy and then you flush that energy back out. Yeah, exactly. I guess I kind of act different depending on who I’m around or hanging out with, but I’m not the negative side of that. Whenever it comes to different friend groups, I’m the same character but different actor almost. I judge from them, when I first meet them, how they want me

to respond. And I don’t respond accordingly, because I act the way I want to, but I still want to be friends—it’s almost like what everyone does. But I’m constantly doing that with every friend. So like when a friend comes along who isn’t a part of the group, they’re like, “You’re crazier with them than you are with me!” It’s as if you’re the same color, but a different hue. I don’t really mind if people who I’m more reserved around see me acting more crazy because I didn’t think they’d want me to act really crazy. If you want me to act really crazy, then I will. I’ll make more jokes. Maybe it’s like supply and demand, in a way? Tell me about the stage, because it’s basically your platform for your ritual, your synthesizing. It’s paradoxical. The stage makes me nervous because all the attention is on me, but the stage, for me, is also a space for me to be myself, and be goofy. It’s so contradictory; I’m constantly in the state of worried about critique, but I also don’t care because I can act any way I want on stage. It’s a release. -Justin Miller Photographs by Samantha Reichman

As a Philosophy major, Patrick Jenkins thrives off of creative energy. He is hands-on and thoughtful in his creative work, from film to furniture making. Here, Patrick discusses what it’s like to dream— and he defines the ritual of dreaming in a variety of ways. For dreams are not only aspirations and visions, but also modes of feeling and thought.

Do you think you’re more religious or spiritual? I think it probably depends on what day you ask me that.

How would you define ritual?

You were in a pretty well known band as a late teenager—signed to a major record label, moved out to California. What happened to the band?

Ritual is like clearing up some space to be able to dream. Getting some things in order so you can let you mind go, so you can have some fun and also keep consistent things in your life.

I joined the band really young, and for me, it was just an opportunity to play music for a living. I didn’t really care what we were playing. You could say that it wasn’t so much an artistic output for me.

Do you have any specific rituals?

I loved playing music for the joy of it. But, once we really started to get in to it, I realized I wasn’t making the kind of music I wanted to make. There was a lot more I could do. I was still growing into myself, whereas the other guys [in the band] were adults. I had no clue what I wanted to do. I just knew that I was good at guitar, and singing, and these guys wanted me to play with them, so I went with it. Once it got to the point where I started falling more into myself, I realized I didn’t have a lot of interest in it anymore.

I eat a grilled cheese everyday. It’s not necessarily my favorite food, but I like it a lot. [For a while], I was doing sushi every day, no deep-sea fish. I have two cups of coffee, at least. I’ll drink coffee all day long. I simplified everything I wear, too, so I pretty much wear the same thing everyday, if that’s even a ritualistic thing. I don’t wear jeans anymore—those are for rock and roll. I don’t wear anything too loud. I try to write something every day, and it can be hard to do. Every night, before I go to bed, I always say a little thing of thanks [to whomever above] that I have a bed to sleep in. When you get in your bed, and you realize how good [of a feeling] that is, you have to thank someone. I don’t miss a day of that. Why William and Mary? The campus seems like a little bit of a dream to me. I was living in California before I came here, and I love brick buildings, brick walkways. I love the sound of boots on brick. This campus is almost like an extended part of Colonial Williamsburg, a snow globe of a different time. Here, it’s cool because there is a sense of safety. It’s one of those few universities that actually has an academic world you can live in. One where you can think, dream, and be creative. I like the peace here. Where do you find inspiration? Everywhere, really. I know that may sound cliché. I love Roy Orbison, The Talking Heads, and Zombies. [As far as film goes], I draw inspiration from a handful of directors, like Bergman and Malick. I love David Lynch, too.

If I was going to be playing music, I wasn’t playing the kind of music I wanted to be playing. It was a really quick thing for me. We signed to a major label, which most people don’t get the chance to do. There’s a lot of money thrown at you. There’s a lot of pressure. People want you to do certain things. Be at this photo-shoot. Wear these clothes. Sing these songs written by other people. Producers telling you they don’t want you there during the writing session, just a singer. All the fun stuff goes away after a while, the flying around and going out to nice dinners. You step back and realize, “What am I doing? I’m not being the creative person I wanted to be. I have more stuff to say.” So I found an out, and jumped on it. Did you stay in LA for a while? Yeah, at this point I had taken two years off of school. I wanted to finish school, and I started getting really into film when I was in LA. I worked on a show out there. [It helped me to realize] I wanted to make my own films. The thing is, it’s so expensive and hard to make films in LA if you’re just starting. If I came to W&M, where I could get in-state tuition, I could make my own films and finish up school. That seemed like a beautiful thing to me. 17

Was it hard to move back to the East Coast after being in California? I moved out to California when I was 20. The thing is, it’s all been a sort of a rush and a little bit of a dream to me. I’ve always felt like I’m just kind of floating through life. I’ve been all over the country. Nothing really fazes me. It might be really traumatic for someone [else] to move back and go to school somewhere, but it just seems normal for me. Do you think you draw a lot of creativity from your family? Definitely. My mom’s not particularly creative. She’s more pragmatic, and realist. My dad’s a total dreamer. I think I have a combination [of both of them]. I get a lot of dreamy ideas from my father, and it’s my mother’s qualities that commit me to do them. Everyone in my family is very smart and creative, so I get a lot of inspiration all around. You’ve talked a lot about dreams. Do you have any memorable dreams that come to mind? 18

I have a lot. They’re always interesting to the person whose dream it is, and never actually interesting to other people. Some people think that dreams don’t have any meaning; some people think they have a lot of meaning. Some people think they’re nonsense. I like film a lot because it’s so similar to the language of dreams. People go into a film, and they can come out thinking that it’s nonsense—and then there are those people who draw all these conclusions, and meanings, from it. Whether or not dreams are just the ramblings of your subconscious, those ramblings are there for a reason. They’re there for you to work something out. I always think that they may be prophetic. I have certain dreams I remember from being a child that are almost convicting—they keep me from making certain decisions in my life. With dreams, you can feel like you’re always on the verge of a revelation sometimes. I get that feeling a lot. Music does the same thing for me. When it’s building, and you don’t know why you feel this way, and you feel like you’re right on the edge of knowing something.

-Katie Sharp Photographs by Grayson Cooke

THIS IS NOT AN INTERVIEW

How do you define the word ritual? I define ritual by a ceremony of holy reverence or significance. A ritual should allow the acts of the outer self to effect the states of the inner self. By definition, any ritual activity has a precedence; however, the most important part of a ritual is the involvement of the inner self which can be enacted through outer participation. Think for example about reading aloud. If you read silently, you have only the inner impact of the words, but sometimes adding the external tone and texture of the voice helps to complete the experience. Similarly, a ritual binds the inner and outer elements of those parts of the self that it symbolizes. Where do you see these types of rituals, or any type of ritual for that matter, in your daily routine? There are many daily rituals that I can identify, for instance, putting on makeup in the morning, a cup of coffee before class, intervals of cigarette breaks, routine walks and paths. While these rituals are less far-reaching in their effect than rituals associated with religious observance, quotidian rituals allow individuals to orient themselves toward their personal goals. Tell us about some of your hobbies. Why do you enjoy them? I like to take walks and observe nature. It helps to bring me outside of myself and orient me in the greater world. For this same reason I enjoy looking at different kinds of art from literature, painting and drawing, to music and dance. Are you ever able to remember your dreams when you wake up? I hear that remembering your dreams is a matter of not changing position when you wake up. I go through phases where I remember nothing at all, and at other times, memories and conflicts brought up by my dreams, will pervade my days. You read tarot cards. How did you begin? I first began reading Tarot as a hermeneutic exercise. I was swayed by theories of reader reception and the idea that books can be mirrors of the self, handy for self-interpretation. This is the same way that I approached the tarot, with more of an eye to how I interpreted its signs than the signs themselves. Two things drew me out of my skepticism.

The first was the readings themselves, whose prophetic understanding of my life did not seem like coincidence or projection. The deck would turn up the same card for certain situations, time and again, even after rigorous shuffling, and these patterns defied mathematical probability. The second was my own learning about the esoteric meaning behind the symbols of the cards, which gave me a new authority over interpretations and let me better see the patterns they were forming. What are your thoughts on religion and spirituality? Are you more the former or the latter? Religion and spirituality necessarily go hand in hand as the inner and the outer elements of self fulfillment. Religion (when broken down to its Latin root, ligo means â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;to bind or uniteâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;) generally refers to the outer element, which in these secular times seems to manifest itself the most in morality. Spirituality on the other hand represents the inner principle of the self. One cannot develop entirely without the other. Tell us about the rituals involved with your religiosity/spirituality. At this point in my life, any spiritual community that I have lies primarily in books and teachings. To this effect I read out loud. I meditate on passages, and I often write exegeses. I practice calligraphy as a ritual form, orient my posture for spiritual attainment, chest open to the universe, and repeat mantras and liturgies. These behaviors come naturally to me, as a person who enjoys routine and habit. You chose a nontraditional method of collaborating with ROCKET. Why do you wish to remain anonymous? I chose to be anonymous, because my name and my identity, as you might see me on campus, pertains little to my spiritual journey. There is a lot of vanity encoded in the way we present our outward identities, and only the most pious are immune to such traps of vanity. I am anonymous because I want to speak honestly, without concern for exposure or self-branding.

Do you see any connection between your anonymity and the degree of ritual-density in your lifestyle? The Sufis of esoteric Islam, at the culmination of their initiation, merge with the God head. They hold infinity within themselves, and therefore they disown the first person pronoun. To them “I” pertains only to God, and thenceforward they speak as “We” or “One” or just their name. There are many occult rituals in which participants are reported to lose themselves among all the others, becoming one with the symbol of the mass action. I hear that a lot of people feel this way at concerts when seeing a favorite band play. On May Day, the King and the Queen of the May, once they were elected, were not just some Jack and Jill getting married; instead, they became in the context of that ritual Juno and Jupiter, gods of the pagan court, and the ritual of their marriage promised a fruitful year. Taking place in a ritual or a tradition is taking place in something bigger than one’s own singular life, something that spans back years immemorial. And an individual who is willing to place aside their own limited identity in the midst of one of these rituals, may be privy to truths which lay outside of the singularity of their perspective. -ANON

Take, Eat. Models: Maddy Benjamin, Brooke LaRue, Judd Peverall, Nathan Sivak Photography: Gianna Baiges Parrilla, Selden Koolman, Samantha Reichman 24

Models: Morgan Gibson, Jimmy Hewitt, Drew Lanzafama, Tyler Willson Photography: Gianna Baiges Parrilla

AND THEN THE

LETTING

GO Models: Pat Austria, Jimmy Hewitt, Drew Lanzafama, Brooke LaRue, Francesca Rizzo, Eden Stuart, Tyler Willson Photography: Gianna Baiges-Parrilla, Selden Koolman, Matthew Riley