'The ropes opened up for her as she always seemed to glide through the crowd, with envious stares and broken hearts. She passed the golden speakers and red curtains making her way back stage, making herself at home.
She could out drink you and out smart you, and serenading only worked for a moment before she would begin finger picking the guitar with a cigarette dangling between her soft pouty lips, singing the songs that shattered glass, but with a such soul they'd make your heart melt. Her raspy voice, her careless nature, her need for no one demanded our attention, all the songs had been written about her. Even the songs that called her evil. Especially the songs she wrote herself. It was true. She could kill with casual lies.
We would follow her anywhere, to have her hand extend towards yours in an ushering and offering motion to follow, meant the night was about to begin. Till the ends of the earth we would follow, and you were chosen.
If you were timid she wanted you more. To crack you open like a shell at the beach. Read your mind, hear the ocean.
Her hair was always down, and the more her makeup ran the heavier her feminine gaze grew and we all fell at her feet, accepting her blows, and hurting our egos. She would never be mine we all thought. She could only be natures.
She collected us. Like little treasures. As the night turned into morning she would lick her lips, take a drag, and say, "love me hard love me good".
But after she carelessly and wildly laugh, she would slide slowly off the sofa and onto the rug where she rolled around to the sounds of music in her ears. She didn't want our love. Like a vixen she got what she needed from us in the desire and willingness we offered, but to actually touch her was like magic, and it rarely ever happened. Like a forbidden fruit she would drop from the night and roll into the morning and become the grass that grew between our toes, she was everywhere. But she was untouchable. "More" she said as she placed the needle on the record, and turned up the volume, "I want more."
The music played and she took off her clothes, the night had begun. Jump in. Get wet. Splash. Spill. Sing. Hold my cigarettes, give me the wine, turn it up, touch me. Shh.
Rainbow glares reflected across the room as the sun rose, her eyes would close but she never said where she was going. Living on the edge was hard she said, every time you cross a line in the sand, it's too easy to draw another one. Revealing only what she wanted us to see, she smiled ,we were just fun little treasures, she was collecting us as she paraded through our world making herself at home.'
text by Ruby Corley
Concept & Collection The Lovers & Drifters Club
Model Delilah Parillo
Photography by Jason Lee Parry