Natural Beauty: Linda Rodin for Cereal Magazine

“Down a hallway, through a canary yellow door, Linda Rodin’s apartment, where she has lived for nearly forty years, is a charming spectacle of the cherished. Framed portraits hang from walls painted a faded robin’s egg. Plastic mannequin hands, forever frozen in place on a bureau, hold drapes of pearls. There are shell collections, bunny collections, shelves stacked with books. Everywhere the eye travels, a plant inevitably reaches into frame. Pots, in lime ceramic and orange terracotta, hold sharp fingers of zebra cactus, the wide palms of monstera. Each room is a defiant response to creeping minimalist hegemony and a city rife with gray. It is a space unique to Rodin, filled like a treasure chest and tended to as any garden.”

Read more from my interview with Linda Rodin in the latest issue of Cereal, which you can order here.

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Tria Giovan Interview for Lenny Letter

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Photographer Tria Giovan sometimes wonders where the children in her portraits are today. She photographed them in Cuba in the 1990s. She’s heard a handful of them have made it to Europe — Spain, Germany — though she doesn’t know how. Passports would have been an issue. Money presented its own problems. At the time, Cuba was a place where very little seemed possible.

Read the rest at Lenny Letter.

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Fashion for Kids for Who What Wear

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In March, Vogue published an article titled “Do Seoul’s Toddlers Have the World’s Most Stylish Hair?” that featured nine street style photographs of the three-feet-and-under set snapped during fashion week. Their hair (pigtails, fauxhawks, an abridged Bieber coif) struck me less than what they were wearing (leather jackets, dandy suits, crop tops). If you squinted at the screen hard enough, warping the scale, any one of these outfits could have easily been worn by a human four times their age. It was too on-trend, too hip, too… totally devoid of the mismatched, misshapen messiness that is practically a rite of passage for kids. When you start off with Givenchy at age 4, what on earth is there to look forward to?

Read the rest at Who What Wear.

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Feather Rib Tattoos are My Generation’s Tramp Stamp

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The following is an excerpt from a piece originally featured on The Style Con.

Two months ago, I was very much in a market for a tattoo. Not that I’m not still in the market for one, but there’s nothing quite like the masochist draw of the tattoo parlor when you’re feeling particularly sour and mean, dreaming of needles and blood and permanent self-expression. Unfortunately for my lazy quest in being cooler, I didn’t pull the trigger fast enough to coincide with my hate bender, and in the amount of time I hummed and hawed, dawdled in indecision, my perspective on life changed and my confidence to brand myself with it—which is probably a good thing, because “THERE IS NOTHING” was a strong contender for a lifelong cameo on my forearm. Tattooing while having an existential crisis is like driving while drunk; I don’t recommend it.

Click here to continue reading.

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Breaking News: Man Buns No Longer Reliable Indicator of Hotness

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The following is an excerpt of a piece originally seen on The Style Con.

It seems like just yesterday when I came across my first man bun. Not, like, ever. That honor goes to Brad Pitt circa Legends of the Fall, though his might not have been so much of a man bun as it was a man ponytail, with the added visual benefit of a cascade of straight blonde hair over his perfect, perfect face. Particulars be damned–man pony or man bun–the seed was planted: Men could be far better looking than me, especially if their hairstyle rivaled that of my own.

Continue reading here.

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6 Things I Will Absolutely Not Miss About Modeling

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The following is an excerpt of a piece featured on xojane.com

There is, somewhere in the NoMad district of New York City, a modeling office with my card still on the wall, even though I know and my bookers know and everyone in accounting knows that I’m not modeling anymore. 

Like a relationship that both parties have let fade off into oblivion instead of directly cutting the cord, we’ve both chosen to phase each other out, quietly and with mutual disinterest. After 10 years as a walking coat hanger, all the phone calls and bookings and flights are over. Fin, done, kaput.

Click here to keep reading.

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