naomi cohen letter from the
For weeks, my co-editors and I hide a secret, holding the theme close until the big reveal. During this time, it’s easy to get carried away in your own head, detailing every aspect of the magazine, down to the hair flowers in Bloom. Then, of course, the semester actually begins, and we welcome dozens into the process of bringing the idea to life. Shoots begin, and I bite my tongue. I don’t butt in with a critique about the makeup, or with my initial Bloom hair flower idea. My co-editors and I remarked often that the shoots never go quite as we expect them to, but in the most beautiful way. Each member of the Strike Boston staff was hand selected because of their talent, their work ethic, and their passion. Being able to sit back and see a group come together to do what they each love most is so special. I look at the finished product we have for you today, and I am so proud of the work that each of our members produced. To the Strike staff, I cannot thank you enough for your constant commitment and creativity. To my co-editors, Bella and Paige, thank you for being so reliable and remarkable. And finally, to my family and friends, thank you so much for not only always supporting me, but for being genuinely interested in all of my creative endeavors. I hope you love Issue 05, and I’ll catch you later for issue 06 ;)
Strike Out —NaomiEvery issue comes together a bit differently, with its own unique process and story, and our fifth issue was an absolute joy to work on. I have been with Strike Boston since their very first issue, and it has been such an incredible experience to watch the chapter grow, work with countless talented creatives, and be part of such an inspirational community. I am so proud of what we have achieved this semester, and I could not be more lucky to work with such an incredible staff. Thank you to all of the Strike Boston Issue 05 staff! You guys are incredible, and being one of your EICs is an absolute joy! I also want to say thank you to my partners in crime, Paige and Naomi. Working alongside you guys has been a highlight of the semester, and I couldn’t imagine having put this issue together without you. I also want to say thank you to my friends, my family, my sister Lucie (you are my muse), and, of course, my three fluffy puppy dogs. I feel so lucky to be a part of Strike. It has been such an incredible experience, and I can’t wait to get started on Strike Boston Issue 06! Xoxo
bella bohnsack
paige yoskin ghfc
I have been a part of Strike for a little over two years and I am still shocked to see how much students can accomplish on passion alone. The process of a simple idea blossoming into a full-fledged publication is surreal, and it is beautiful to watch each step unfold. I have been incredibly grateful for the opportunity to work alongside such talented individuals and so lucky for the creative outlet Strike is to me and so many others. It feels as if the first Strike Boston issue came out yesterday, and we are already on our fifth. I am so proud of how far we have come as an organization, and the name we have made for ourselves in such a short period of time. I want to thank Bella Bohnsack and Naomi Cohen for being my dedicated and extremely talented partners for this issue. In addition I want to thank all of my friends and family for supporting me throughout my involvement with Strike. Their influence has been behind the scenes in many ways. I am so sad to say that this is my last semester as EIC, but it has been a journey I will never forget. Thank you to everyone who has made this experience so amazing, I cannot express my gratitude enough. With all the love in my heart I wish Strike Boston luck as they start the next issue, I cannot wait to see what you can do! Strike out.
about this
The Diary of a Flower is a metaphorical examination of a flower’s imagined life. From its bud to its bloom to its ultimate return to the earth, its story is worth exploring. For issue 05, we wanted to tap into this beautiful yet fleeting cycle of beauty and its passing. Accompanied by visual elements of nature and experimental photography techniques such as cyanotypes and lumen prints, The Diary of a Flower celebrates the beautiful ephemeral course of nature.
EDITORS-IN-CHIEF
Bella Bohnsack
Naomi Cohen
Paige Yoskin
PRODUCTIONS MANAGER
Sarah-Eve Gazitt
ADVERTISING
Director: Mary Corbin
Carly Intraversato
Sofia Bernitt
Helena Wang
Grace Pisciotta
Haley Krawczyk
Jordan Medina
Amanda Cucciniello
DESIGN
Director: Becca Benoit
Samantha Sanders
Srinidhi Senapathi
Lilia Geguchadze
SOCIAL MEDIA
Director: Ella Strayer
Brooke Seus
Angela Chiang
Hannah Lashin
Kayla Baltazar
Traci Walcott
Madeleine Dorman
Madison Lloyd
MERCHANDISE
Director: Alexandra Purdy
FINANCE
Directors:
Tejiri Ogufere
Dia Arora
EVENTS
Directors:
Sofia Ostland
Cecilia Muniz
PHOTOGRAPHY
Sof Martinez
Isabella Oland
Gwyneth Williams
Ellie Watson
Mia Anderson
Sabrina Morata
Ashley Braren
Jasmin Jin
VIDEOGRAPHY
Director: Sarah Reeves
Jacob Lee
Chloe Guo
Amanda Siow
Lan Lan Honda-Rottler
Kiara Rojas
STYLISTS
Director: Cecilia Muñiz
Shannah Virivong
Katie England
Chandini Toleti
Sabina Tagieva
Deniz Oray
Alyssa Bergo
Sami Morales
Vanessa Ho
Shorey Wesen
Xinyue Jin
BEAUTY
Director: Maria Fischer
Ella Strayer
Valeria Ramierez
Sarah-Eve Gazitt
Reeya Mathur
Julie Xiang
Sof Martinez
WRITING
Director: Annika Chaves
Esmeralda Moran
Kayla Baltazar
Grace Donahue
Kyla Smith
Rachel Zhong
Rachel Yu
Chanel Thorpe
Laila Musleh
Directors: Chandini Toleti, Katie England
Photographers: Ellie Watson, Sabrina Morata
Videographers: Amanda Siow, Jacob Lee
Beauty: Reeya Mathur, Maria Fischer
Stylists: Vanessa Ho, Chandini Tleti
Model: Katie England
Social Media: Traci Walcott, Kayla Baltazar
In our relentless pursuit of immortality and youth, we inject ourselves with needles, overdose on countless pills and drown ourselves in oils and creams that all promise us coveted eternal youth. Beneath these desperate measures lies a shared human dread of aging, a haunting reminder of our mortality. As the lines increase and etch deeper on our faces and our skin no longer holds its vibrancy, we grasp on to the notion that old age is synonymous with decay. But does aging equate to a loss of life? Or is it a testament to the complexity of our experiences and gained wisdom? Hidden within these signs of aging lies a beauty far greater than our youth. Old pictures and keepsakes remind us of years well-lived and leave us with an irreplaceable warm feeling, yet we shy away from the physical reminders when it affects our aesthetics. The marks on our faces display evidence of laughter, tears and triumphs; it is time to embrace the gift of limited time, and give every reminder of beautiful memories the appreciation they deserve.
My mother’s wardrobe has a myriad of different styles. Her closet is filled with everything from cashmere sweaters to vintage capri pants. As much as I wanted to steal every piece she owned, she would only let me choose from a select pile of clothing—the clothes she did not wear anymore. I would scour through the pile of stained and ripped pieces she kept for whatever reason. Once I asked her why she chose to keep these clothes instead of throwing them away and she responded with, “Akkawo,” which means, “wasteful” in Korean. My mother has three rules when it comes to being less wasteful especially with clothing: learn how to repair and sew, shop for more preloved pieces and most importantly, never dispose of your clothing. However, it was not until recently that I realized how necessary these practices really are.
Our wardrobes are constantly transforming to adapt to what is considered fashionable or trendy. Once a trend begins to decay, we often disregard it and replace it with whatever new pieces are stealing the spotlight. Even when clothing begins to show physical signs of decay, such as developing holes or stains, we resort to simply throwing these pieces away, instead of repurposing or donating them.
Written by Rachel Yu | Edited by Annika Chaves | Layout by Becca Benoit, Lilia Geguchadze, Samantha Sanders, Srinidhi SenapathiMany shoppers resort to purchasing from fast fashion shops to buy large quantities of clothing for cheaper prices. But, the quality of these clothing items ultimately depreciates along with their value. As customers wear these pieces and they begin to show fast signs of decay, they are replaced with more clothing, contributing to a perpetual cycle of overconsumption. These patterns will continue to increase, with consumption rates expected to rise by nearly 63% by 2030, according to a report made by the European Envi ronment Agency.
Alternatively, many shoppers choose to thrift for their clothes to avoid purchasing from fast fashion stores. The second hand shopping experience offers the same affordable pricing as its fast fashion counterpart. However, many shoppers adopt a similar unethical mindset that prompts them to pur chase large amounts of clothing that they do not need, solely because the price points are cheaper. Overconsumption not only results from fast fashion, but also through acquisitive shopping practices, as people tend to prioritize quantity over quality.
Many people fail to acknowledge that despite their signs of decay aged” clothing pieces still hold potential. By heeding my mothers three rules, many of my ripped shirts and sweaters have transformed into socks or head bands. I even learned to sew the holes and rips in my sweaters or leggings to avoid throwing these pieces away.
Given the inevitability of the conditions of decay, it becomes our respon sibility to choose how we utilize these items of damage and rot, whether it is through repurposing or recycling our clothing.
My mother’s emphasis on repurposing and recycling clothing has allowed me to recognize the harm of regularly purchasing and discarding clothing from fast fashion companies. For years, I found no purpose in following my mother’s practices. But now, I have come to realize the potential beauty of decay, and its ability to transform into something beautiful.
Director: Ashley Braren
Photography: Isabella Oland, Ashley Braren
Videography: Sarah Reeves
Social Media: Madison Lloyd, Traci Walcott
Beauty: Valeria Ramirez, Ella Strayer, Maria Fischer
Style: Shannah Virivong, Cecilia Muniz
Models: Mar Rivero, Taeha Ryu
The sharp click of a lighter sounds as yet another candle is added to the birthday cake. Before we know it, the surface of the frosting is illuminated by flames representing years passing by. As our lives stream by like water down a river, we must ask ourselves: what does it mean to be renewed? Rebirth could result in a mirrored image — a reflection of your old self, the same picture as always. But, as we build ourselves up to start again, do we truly shed all notable traces of our past? Or, does it linger under the guise of something new? Renewal isn’t about starting over completely from scratch, nor is it about creating a carbon copy of your former self. Rather, renewal is about being able to change your perception of yourself and see yourself in a new light. And maybe, as you add more candles to the cake, the world will see you in a new candlelight, too.
Fashion MemoriesCycles, Reborn Renewal: h
Written by Rachel Zhong | Edited“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
– F. Scot Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
People talk about the 20-year fashion cycle as though contemporary styles are as insignificant as replicas. Vintage and Y2K surge in search engines and become jargon in quotidian. Items of clothing and accessories have traveled with these retro trends, rewinding and reiterating themselves from decades back.
Sure, repetition and saturation can bore, but nostalgia…never.
Nostalgia overtakes when you linger on memories, working as a gateway for reliving the past (“Luxury Fashion and Nostalgia,” 2022). More often than not, clothing, for its intimate nature, transforms into a repository for memories and hence this warm, fuzzy longing.
Fashion lives through the five stages: introduction, rise, peak, decline, and obsolescence (Trends Used to Come Back Round,” 2022). But obsolescence never means an end. In a world where fashion goes by season, familiarity can get obsessively comforting in a collective consciousness and one’s own, triggering the re-introduction.
Is it Suki from Fast and Furious? Britney Spears, NSYNC, or Destiny’s Child? They appeared on the 2000s timestamp and never left; they lived in a corner of your brain, awaiting a revisit. Just like that, memories are such a strange branch of living — they are intangible but powerful, sometimes misplaced but always omnipresent.
“The smell of laundry would teleport me back to when I was five,” is almost a universal account. Yet, in that stack of fresh, clean cotton, everyone can pick at least one piece that stands the test of time and is the closest to their heart.
It is a white dress for high school graduation. The fleece given as a birthday gift. It is the basketball jersey bought at the first home game. Or, the hoodie designated for hiking.
Clothes age with memories, and wearing becomes revisiting and recollecting the affection associated with the fabric – that extends to touch, sight, and smell. While obsolescence to re-introduction may seem like holding onto the past, at the cyclical core of wear is the consistent renewing of the past.
Every wear experiences a new memory added to the old ones, collectively and individually.
Old trends revitalize in contemporary sophistication, as in how each microtrend states a new interpretation of an old style, and how vintage can be styled with ultramodern accessories. A fashion clash between generations has been oversimplified with adjectives that diminish its ocean of possibilities.
Renewal, where the fashion cycles and the memories are reborn, epitomizes the nuance between periods and lives – mirroring the waves of fashion that we, like the boats, ride upon.
Looking through the mirror to see that fashion is not just a reflection of one’s identity, but a testimony of where you have been and where you are going next.
Tearing through the clothes on the bed you realize the clothes are not the issue, but rather the ever looming question that pulls at your heartstrings: who am I?
Adolescence. A bewildering era teeming with possibilities and discovery. Perhaps it is not about choosing between opposites, but rather navigating a spectrum of prospects where nuances hold more significance than absolutes.
At this pivotal moment, chaos transforms into a newfound freedom – pick not one favorite flower from the garden, but every single one you adore. Embrace your insatiable nature, your innate disarray. In the dazzling liberation of adolescence, a bud grows within the ever-shifting cultural landscape that is uniquely ours.
My Mother Was Once a Child
WrittenDoors slam shut amidst tense conversations. Stomps to the bed echo loudly enough to temporarily drown out the chastising voice still heard from the kitchen. Despite diving into bed and engulfing myself in blankets to further muffle her voice, I realize there is no point. Complaints spew into every corner of my bedroom and I am painfully aware of just how incapable I am of pleasing my mom. My foot falls off the mattress and touches the frills hot glued to the metal frame of my bed, courtesy of my mother’s decision that the bed did not properly fit the aesthetic of my room. Guilt unexpectedly sets in, quelling my frustration. I remind myself, with a tug at my heartstrings, that my mother was once a girl too.
My mother, a middle child of seven, was the last to enter the United States in 2000. Already an adult with years of living in the Dominican Republic, she reluctantly restarted her life in New York City, finally able to see her mother after she left in the 80s. During this time, she was forced to reconcile with the severed relationships she had with her other siblings, who had been in the country longer than her at this point. The transition from a perceived eternity as an only child to the warm welcoming arms of six strangers she came to remember as her siblings, turned out to be integral in facing a new and more difficult chapter of her life: motherhood.
As her first and only child, I was doted on left and right from all members of the family, especially her. Her muñeca, doll, she remembered whispering in the little English she knew on the day of my birth, just two months shy
of the third anniversary of her immigrating to the U.S.. Drawers of my mother’s dressers are stuffed to the brim with photographs of me throughout the years. My baby teeth rattle in empty boxes meant specifically for such firsts. Foodstained fingerprints mark certain photos of a bubbly baby that resembles my face if I squint hard enough. I struggle to recognize myself as it feels like a lifetime ago. My mother beams with pride at the pictures, circling the images tenderly as she claims I am a spitting image of her, though we both know I look like my father. I keep my mouth shut and look away, uncomfortable with being in her presence for so long.
Though I have snooped through the drawers multiple times, I did not know she had kept my dolls. My favorites reside in the corner of her dresser, gently laid down in a row leading to the other boxes containing memories I still do not completely recall. Barbies and Bratz dolls with sequined clothes stuck to one another, some hair matted to the point of no return. I did not understand why she still had them and just ignored it until I caught her days after, sneaking a peek through her door to see her on the floor playing with the dolls. I remember being taken aback witnessing my mother, who was over 50, playing with dolls I had not even thought of in years. Why would someone who worked a full labor intensive day as a hairstylist decide to unwind with a couple of dolls scattered on the floor? I could not understand, was she just trying to have them too?
Too often on social media do you see videos of immigrant children gifting their parents the toys they have always wanted, seeing first hand how much the brunt of being forced into adulthood at an early age has hindered their ability to experience childhood wonder and memories. It is bittersweet knowing she never got to experience the joy of playing with dolls for hours on end, tiring yourself out, then making a mental note to remember the plot you created for your dolls. I opened the door and watched as my mother scrambled to put the dolls back, embarrassed to have been caught in such a vulnerable moment. Instead I smiled and took the dolls back out, sitting down next to her and asked to join her.
My childhood remains trapped in powder pink boxes with my name elegantly written across the top, hand drawn hearts dotting each side and bottom. In those boxes are parts of my mother, another little girl who wants to be remembered and loved.
Director: Rachel Zhong
Photographers: Ashley Braren, Sofia Martinez
Videographer: Sarah Reeves
Beauty: Sofia Martinez, Maria Fischer
Stylists: Alyssa Bergo, Chandini Toleti, Cecilia Muniz
Model: Vara Giannakopoulos
Social Media: Angela Chiang, Kayla Baltazar
Director: Sarah Gazitt
Photographers: Mia Anderson, Gwyneth Williams
Videographers: Kiara Rojas, Chloe Guo
Beauty: Julie Xiang, Sarah Gazitt, Sofia Martinez
Stylists: Shorey Wesen, Katie England, Sami Morales, Sabina Tagieva, Jasmin Jin
Models: Sofia Albello, Saicharan Kasetti, Bethany Hartman
Social Media: Madeleine Dorman, Hannah Lashin
Written by Laila Musleh| Edited by Paige Yoskin Layout by Becca Benoit Written by Laila Musleh| Edited by Paige Yoskin Layout by Becca BenoitImagine a world where societal norms have dissolved, judgment holds no power and expectations cease to exist. We find ourselves on a blank canvas, allowing us the opportunity to paint it with whatever colors our hearts and souls desire. In this reality, do we dare to break down our emotional walls? Do we dare to explore the depths of our souls and minds? Do we dare to explore our untapped potential? We stand poised, ready to dismantle the barriers of all external pressures. We are unburdened, liberated from the constraints that once dictated our every thought and move. We begin to water each layer of our being, allowing ourselves to bloom in the myriad of ways we desire. In this liberating moment, we no longer succumb to the limiting beliefs. Instead, we allow ourselves the infinite possibilities of our authentic selves. With open arms, we begin to embrace the fullness of our existence, unveiling the beauty that has always lived within us, waiting for the freedom to bloom.
Step Into Your
Written by Grace Donahue | Edited by Paige Yoskin Layout by Becca Benoit, Samantha SandersWhen a flower blooms, its petals peel open to reveal the vivid and stunning petals hiding just under the surface; when a person blooms, they are able to share and open up. It can be a beautiful thing to witness someone’s growth as they flourish and grow into themselves.
Within the queer community, discovering and coming to terms with one’s sexuality only aids in personal development. As we grow to love and accept ourselves, we can truly begin to blossom. Unfolding the confusion and inner turmoil is one of the first steps; only once these personal truths become apparent can one begin to bloom.
For myself, it was a tentative exploration. I grew more and more confident in skin through time, therapy and forming meaningful relationships. These days, I feel free and more open to people and the world. Just as flower buds turn up towards the sun and expose themselves, I allowed myself to fully realize my sexuality — and in turn, better understand myself as a person.
A flower can only bloom after it has firmly planted roots underground. Just as a blossoming flower needs resources and stability to open up its most vulnerable parts. For some, establishing these strong roots takes quite a bit of time and patience, but the process results in a new, beautiful relationship with our own identity.
As she explored her sexuality, Roberto said there was something “not sticking” in her life. The thought of figuring out her sexual orientation was tucked away in the back of her mind, but she needed to develop a level of comfort in her own skin before she could look inwards on sexual attraction.
Roberto reconciled with her queer identity after beginning to accept other aspects of herself. She grappled with the intersectionality between her sexual identity and being a plus-size woman. Roberto said that a substantial obstacle she had to overcome was the fear of adding another label to her identity that others could use at her expense.
berto worried that, “people would slap on a gay label in addition to what they already had to make fun of, and it would just be worse.”
She also recognized that comparing herself to others perpetuated this fear, and kept her from recognizing who she was for so long.
Her lack of an intimate relationship with anyone made her hesitant to explore different types of connections out fear of rejection — it is much easier to blame a disappointing end of a relationship on the inevitable immaturity of a man.
Boston University senior Lainey Roberto (she/her), identifies as bisexual and describes coming to terms with her sexuality as a unique experience. Roberto was fortunate enough to be surrounded by very supportive and open-minded friends and family that treated the spectrum of sexuality with complete and utter normalcy. Although, her hesitancy to accept her sexuality stemmed from her inner journey of self-acceptance.
“It was my excuse for not having any relationship experience because like at that point I had realized how terrible and toxic a lot of [men] were,” said Roberto. “I didn’t want this to be the thing that confirms to me that I’m entirely unlovable.”
Roberto’s confident bloom into her identity was brought on by the realization that she was surrounded by incredibly supportive people, and that the opinions of nameless faces should never outweigh the opinion she formed of herself.
“I realized at a certain point that I can’t let these hypothetical people define me in my queerness,” said Roberto.
Roberto recalled a weight lifted off her shoulders as she typed a coming out message to her group chat of friends. What was once a looked-over and unwelcome aspect of her identity bloomed into the light, propelling her self-understanding forward.
This metaphorical blooming into one’s complete identity is not defined by a loud and stunning flower, but the sheer act of opening up and taking pride in the self work you’ve done is enough to be beautiful.
By taking the time to establish our roots and gaining the security to explore all aspects of our self expression, we raise our faces to the sun — soaking in the love and warmth that some people deny by not living their truth. Without the cultivation, budding and joyous bloom into one’s identity, we deny ourselves the beauty of connection and living a free and honest life.
Expansion, 2023
Collage; a French word that means, “to stick.” The term implies close connection and comfort, but human nature leads us to stray from the seemingly chaotic amalgamation. Take a closer look and you will see the beauty and personality behind every choice, scrap, and placement in the piece. The eye is drawn to a green vase in the center, cradled by a gloved hand, that entices the viewer to delve into the smaller details of the collection. The artist, Samantha Sanders, came across this glove in an ad from a vintage Life magazine and it called to her, needing to hold something in its welcoming grasp. From this comforting center stems the vibrant, colorful images that fade to darker pieces along the edge. This style was inspired by a collaboration between Rauschenberg and Darryl Pottorf called Quattro Mani (1998). The juxtaposition of vivid color and the stamped black design inspired Sanders to work with linoleum block prints herself, and fostered her interest in this specific art form.
The full spectrum of a flower, from genesis to rebirth, is displayed from the colorful center to the grays and blacks on the edge. A collage, in its essence, is the rebirth of art. New life is brought to pieces that lacked purpose, but the right artistic eye can recognize the potential. The best art makes the viewer wonder. Where did it come from? What does it represent? What does it hold? The most beautiful things hide in chaos, we simply need to take the time to find it.
Samantha Sanders
Written by Chanel Thorpe | Edited by Paige Yoskin | Layout by Becca BenoitSprout, 2023
Opposites enhance one another. When contrasted with the stark red floral linoleum block print, the collection of black and white cutouts and postal stamps feel plain. The red embodies more than just a color. It is a bold declaration, demanding attention amidst the subdued black and white tones of the other elements. It is a bold color demanding to be seen, demanding to stand out from the rest. The effect of venturing out, daring to stand out from the ordinary, and embracing the unknown. Together, the captivating collection of these mediums show a sense of wonder and danger, of exploration and resilience. They invite the reader to embark on their own journey. A child’s curiosity looms in the daunting presence of a cactus, a testament to resilience and adaptation. A cactus holds the possibility to grow flowers, despite the harsh environment and the sharp protest of its needles. Ultimately, are the child and the cactus really so different?
Deniz Oray
Written by Rachel Yu | Edited by: Paige Yoskin | Layout by Becca BenoitIn her expertly crafted fashion sketches, artist Deniz Oray vibrantly delineates the looks from “The Diary of a Flower.” Being a member of the styling team herself, she is no stranger to the intricacies of forming an outfit. Oray diligently captures every detail of the shoot looks, and offers viewers a peek into the creative process and vision of each shoot. She sketches the fluidity of the fabric and captures the intention behind the styling, accenting the elegant nature of each look.
As she gives readers a firsthand view of the styling process, Oray artistically evokes the ephemerality clothes represent. Just as a flower reveals its full potential and beauty as it unfurls its petals, our clothing shows its endless re-workability and versatility through the styling process.
Nail Art by Grace Pisciotta
Written by: Rachel Zhong | Edited by: Paige Yoskin | Layout by Becca Benoitsee on pages 18, 31, 43, 55
Nails speak for metabolism, unapologetically growing. Nail art speaks for a narrative unfilled, imaginatively chronicling.
Enter the whimsical narration of “The Diary of Flower,” crafted by nail artist Grace Pisciotta. Every stage of the floral life cycle is meticulously polished into colors, sparkles, gems, and pearls.
Each nail art design extracts a vibrant sequence of nature’s splendor. From the tender blossoms of spring in hues of pink and green to the somber decays of winter, illustrated by the colors of rot. Specific details from each shoot were used to inspire the design of each individual nail –see if you can find them throughout the magazine.
Each layer unfolds the essence of furtherance, from base to top, from start to finish, tracing an eternal cycle that lives beyond a flower.
Notice your nails – are they living through the same passing?
Directors: Bella Bohnsack, Naomi Cohen, Paige Yoskin
Photographer: Ashley Braren
Makeup Artists: Sarah Gazitt, Maria Fischer, Valeria Ramirez
Stylist: Cecilia Muniz
Model: Surabhi Srikanth
Designer: Becca Benoit