K2K ALLIANCE & PARTNERS THE LOOK | THE FASHION | THE MAS
2019 COLLECTION
CARNIVAL MONDAY | RTW | SS19
2 0 1 9 T H R O U G H
C O L L E C T I O N
S T A I N E D
G L A S S
W I N D O W S
“Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that” Martin Luther King Indeed we are not the same. But it is by design that we are created differently. Let not our differences divide us. Let not our differences build walls of fear. Let not our differences sprout roots of hatred. A wind of change is blowing through all continents, it whispers antiglobalization, segregation, division - and whether we like it or not, change is coming. Instead of being veered by the wind, let our differences spark conversation. Let our differences tear down walls of division and misconception. Let our differences create understanding, inspire hope and foster love. For you see, we are each divinely made; we are each intricately crafted; we are each created differently by design and for a greater purpose that we have yet to comprehend.
n Norma
TWIN
S
PHOTOGRAPHER: GARY JORDAN MODELS: ALEXANDRA CUNNINGHAM | JONATHAN NORMOLLE MAKE-UP ARTIST: BRE KALI HAIRSTYLIST: KERRY MOHAMMED, KOR SALON & SPA
NOTES FROM THE FOUNDERS
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COMPLIMENTARY GOWN CAPE SOLD SEPARATELY
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THE COLOR OF COMPASSION ------COMPLIMENTARY GOWN
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COMPLIMENTARY GOWN CAPE SOLD SEPARATELY THE LOOK | THE FASHION | THE MAS
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D O E S N ’ T
B I N D ;
I T
L I B E R A T E S
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COMPLIMENTARY GOWN CAPE SOLD SEPARATELY
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EFFORTLESS GLAMOR COMPLIMENTARY GOWN CAPE SOLD SEPARATELY
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“PREJUDICE IS A DISEASE. SO IS FASHION. BUT I WILL NOT WEAR PREJUDICE” ------LADY GAGA
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THE BEST KIND OF LOVE IS ONE THAT AWAKENS THE SOUL ------COMPLIMENTARY TOP
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“BEING DEEPLY LOVED BY SOMEONE GIVES YOU STRENGTH, WHILE LOVING SOMEONE DEEPLY GIVES YOU COURAGE” ------LAO TZU
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SOPHISTICATION IS THE NEW SEXY LUXURY RESORT COLLECTION AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER
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PHOTOGRAPHER: GARY JORDAN MODELS: ALEXANDRA CUNNINGHAM | JONATHAN NORMOLLE MAKE-UP ARTIST: BRE KALI HAIRSTYLIST: KERRY MOHAMMED, KOR SALON & SPA
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WE ARE NOT THE SAME BY DESIGN WE ARE CREATED DIFFERENTLY
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T H E
S T A I N
I N
T H E
G L A S S
Dear Mercy, The strangest thing happened today. Today, God made me smile. And then my smile turned into a laugh – and eventually I laughed so hard, I cried. Yes Mercy, I cried. This is my story… He reached out, placing his palm in front of me, anticipating to meet my hand half way. I looked at his hand. I peered at his face. And Oh God! What a beautiful face. Beautiful was a euphemism to describe this man. He was devastatingly glorious. I gulped, thinking about all the ways I didn’t add up. I was ordinary: Five feet two inches of plenty of nothing special. Nerdy in the most casual of settings. Reserved. “Soooo?” He quirked a brow, “Are you going to tell me your name?” I stepped back, shame and nerves coagulating in my stomach like stale milk, my saliva suddenly becoming bitter on my tongue. Why did I have to run into Mr. Talland-tanned today? Or any day?
I dropped my head and looked at my hands. They were veiny. My fingers were too long from playing the piano. And well, my nails? What nails? They were clipped too short because I was a painter. And my palm? Well that appendage was clammy and unsteady, suddenly feeling too heavy to raise to meet his own. Then again, shame did that to you. Didn’t it? It made you feel weighty from the inside out. I didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, I raised my hands and signed. “My name is Abigail.” My fingers shook. I slammed my eyes closed and continued signing “God! Why did I have to be mute?” The last sentence I just threw in for good merit… because hell! What were the odds that Mr. Talldark-and-handsome would understand sign language? One percent? Instinctively my mind went back to my first day in school, the day we met, Mercy Memory “Hey. New girl. What’s your name?” I reached into my bag for my pen and pad. “You girl. I’m talking to you.” I flipped my notebook open to an empty page. I mean… how could I start a-meetand-greet on anything less than an empty page? That would be improper 22
“Why you writing?” I balanced my book. Anxious “You dumb or something?” I wrote my name. Quickly. I wrote it beautifully cursive so that she could see that I wasn’t dumb or something – See… that I wasn’t stupid. She look at my name, “Why they’d send you to school if you can’t talk.” I dropped my head and looked at my hands, the ones I used to sign, the ones I used to write my name, the ones that shook, feeling ashamed. As I stepped back, preparing to retreat, a voice pierced through my despair. “You don’t learn with your voice. You learn with your mind. Maybe you need to learn the definition of dumb.” Present Day Tanned hands surrounded my own, giving my hands strength. And for a pregnant pause, I thought those were your hands, Mercy. – Your hands saying you’ll protect me. You’re hands saying I belong. Your hands saying that even silence has power. But they weren’t. I blinked, feeling warmth spread over my hands, the heat pulling me back into the here and now. I peered at my hands. They
were cupped in the stranger’s, the man that stood before me; his much large ones dwarfing my own, cradling my own, the hands I used to speak, the hands I thought that he would scorn. “Nice to meet you Abigail.” I raised my head, my eyes latching onto his sincere ones. And oh God! His chocolate gaze shimmered like glittering glass under the afternoon sun. He smiled, never releasing my hand, “I’ll just pretend that I didn’t understand the rest of what you said.” Dear Mercy, Today, God made me smile - I smiled so hard I cried.
Much love, Hope
Our lives are like stained glass windows, comprising of hundreds meet-and-greets, thousands of smiles unacknowledged and unfortunately, hundreds of hurts held too close to our hearts. Our experiences are like shattered glass – with some splinters cutting so deep that they become stained images that are made permanent to our subconscious, in the form of memories. But as our journey unfolds, we learn to piece the splinters together and to move past the stain Where there is despair, hope 23
A limited collection of T-shirts that embraces LOVE
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W H E R E
T H E R E
T H E R E
I S
I S
H O P E
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WHERE THERE IS HATRED
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“The heart wants what it wants” No questions asked. 36
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K2K ALLIANCE & PARTNERS
2019 COLLECTION RTW - SS19
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