Our recently debuted issue features interviews with members of the New York graffiti collective the Peter Pan Posse, lead by Mint (a.k.a. Mikhail Sokovikov) and Serf (a.k.a. Jason Aaron Wall), along with a group photo by Michael Avedon. Get a preview by perusing Michael’s individual portraits above and below, then order the issue here.

Above: Mikhail Sokovikov. All images by Michael Avedon.

Left: Jacuzzi Chis (a.k.a Same). Right: PJ Monte

Click “Read More” for additional images.

Jason Aaron Wall

Left: Sean Kinney. Right: Beni Zooted.

Pablo Power

When Gertrude Stein declared, “A writer should write with his eyes and a painter paint with his ears,” she was challenging artists to shift their perceptions. The upcoming exhibition at the Fondation d’Enterprise Hermès, opening March 16, takes the assignment a step further, tasking not only the artist but also the subject of the work and the viewer with this complicated mission. Titled Matt Ducklo & Matthew Monteith: Mind’s Eye, it examines the way in which an individual views and experiences art, referencing the personal biases and perceptions that influence our encounters. Photographs by Matthew Monteith capture art viewers in Rome as they consider different works—from the Roman Forum to Bernini’s David. Matt Ducklo, meanwhile, presents images from his series “Touch Tours,” which documents blind and visually impaired individuals in prestigious art museums as they use their sense of touch to “see” artwork. From their particular corners of America, Matt in Memphis and Matthew in New York, the artists took a moment to discuss the deceptive nature of photography, the enimga of art and why you should carefully consider that café au lait before hitting the MoMa.

Erin Dixon: Tell us a bit about your respective projects.

Matt Ducklo: I was photographing seeing-eye dogs in New York City and before that I had been photographing newscasters, which I still do, on their sets. One day, I saw a seeing-eye dog get on the bus with a newscaster, and I started thinking more about seeing-eye dogs and living in New York City and getting around and navigating the world—having this animal be your eyes. Then, a friend told me about the touch tour program at the [Metropolitan Museum of Art]. I’d never heard of it and thought it sounded amazing, so I went to the Met and I photographed touch tours in the Egyptian Galleries there, and then I found out that there are programs like that all over the place. Once I took the first picture, I knew that this was something I wanted to do.

Erin: Matthew, how did you arrive in Rome and did your motivation for the series come prior to your arrival in the city or after having observed people observing art there?

Matthew Monteith: It kind of goes back to the work that I did for a book with Aperture called Czech Eden. It’s not related in any direct way, but I was interested in these particular concepts of “paradise” and who creates what kind of social utopia based on what ideology. How does it work and what happens in that whole process? Then I went to graduate school at Yale, and when I was there I got very interested in this idea of “thinking utopias.” Do they work and does art education work? And how does it work when it does work? Then I heard about the American Academy in Rome, and I started to think about the Villa Medici and the development of all these different academies in Rome—how they were created to sort of make these national tours of art, which was important to Western society in some way. Then I went to Rome and I visited the Academy, and I realized, “Wow, this is this sort of incredible, anachronistic thing—and also wonderful.” People go for an entire year and they stay there, they look at art…and I knew that was something I had to do. I had to get engaged with that. I think there was also something about how classical art relates to contemporary work in some way.

Erin: How did your own way of viewing art change during that period?

Matthew: Well, I didn’t really have any formal education in art history at all. So when I went to Rome, I saw it as this opportunity to do exactly that—to go around to people who knew tremendous amounts about all sorts of different architecture, art, painting and everything. I got to experience that first-hand, which was really wonderful. I’ve always been really intrigued by the idea that you go to a museum or a gallery and you see a piece of work; you see it once and it really excites you. Then you come back a year later, and you go to the same city and you say, “I’m gonna go back and see that sculpture. It’s going to be great!” You walk in and something has changed. It looks totally diminutive and you’re like, ”What? That’s not the same thing.” Or it’s way better than you imagined. It’s so much about what you bring to it. That’s something I was really interested in as well.

Matt: What Matthew just said, I agree with a lot. I don’t live in New York right now, but I did. And now whenever I go back for a couple weeks, I hit all the museums. I look at a lot of art and I enjoy it so much, but it’s crazy how much your own psychological state or whether you’ve had a cup of coffee or not [affects how] you react to something on one visit. Then, you see it again and don’t react to it. Or you feel nothing and then the next day you’re thinking about it. I don’t get to touch art, but when you’re touching a work of art you’re getting a special privilege that sighted people don’t have, which is exciting. You’re having access to a world that you can’t fully access. It’s probably a lot heavier than me strolling through the American Wing at the Met. Each [touch tour] “viewing” is a thing. You go up, you get permission, you touch it… It’s not like you can spend five seconds looking at this and turn around for 15 seconds and look at that.

Erin: How, then, do you define art as an entity, given that you’re working with people who are both sighted and not?

Six Percent, San Bernardo, Rome, Italy, 2009. Archival pigment print, 24 x 32 inches.

Click “Read More” for additional text and images.

Matthew: I think it’s probably a bit like…what was it in the obscenity trials? You know it when you see it?

Matt: That’s hilarious. I called a friend last night and she said the exact same thing, but I don’t even know [art] when I see it. When you make a book and you edit the book, you hone it and try to make the sequence good and resonate. You cut things out and put things in, and you think about how people are going to perceive it. Then the thing gets printed and it goes off; it’s like this ship that sets sail. You no longer own it or have any control over it. It goes out into the world and people see it however they are going to see it. It’s always so surprising; they tell you, “Oh, I love that thing,” or “I hate that you did this.” And you didn’t have any way of anticipating any of this. I guess what I’m saying is: Some work goes out on that journey and it just crashes. It doesn’t ever arrive. There is no levity to it. Whereas for other works, those perceptions carry them along—something resonates. It doesn’t have to be what you intended, necessarily, but it goes on and develops its own life. I guess that’s the closest thing I can think of: Does it develop it’s own life? Does it resonate? Does it keep going on?

Erin: Given that, why is photography an important artistic medium—particularly if you say that art is something that takes on a life of its own? Can photographs be as ambiguous as other art forms?

Matthew: It’s a tricky thing, but for me that’s what I’m attracted to about photography. It seems that it is so specific, because it has to represent what was in front of the lens at the moment of exposure. So we have this belief. We say, “There’s the thing we can trust it.” But the more engaged with photography anyone gets—and you don’t have to get that engaged—the more you start to realize that’s not it at all. Photography is a total fabrication and it’s really ambiguous because it has the ability to convince us of the reality. I guess that’s the thing that keeps me excited about photography: this sort of razor’s edge. It’s the thing that makes me think it might be one of the most surreal and bizarre mediums that there is out there.

Matt: I agree, because that’s kind of it for me too. I’m a very gullible person. I look at a picture and my first instinct is to believe what I see. I guess 100 years from now, they won’t see photography that way at all, but right now I look at photography and my gut instinct is to believe that actually is what happened.

Matthew: It’s almost like a faith-based practice.

Matt: That’s exactly right. But isn’t art [in general] a faith-based practice? You can be competent but you have to have some sort of faith that something good is going to happen. I know it sounds hokey…

Erin: And by good, you mean its resonation factor?

Matt: That some magic is going to happen. Something is going to happen that you couldn’t have predicted, because if you predicted it there wouldn’t have been magic. Something is going to happen that is beyond yourself. You can’t make magic. You just have to have some faith that if you work hard enough and are consistent then something will happen. But if you don’t work hard, nothing will happen.

Matthew: There’s a Raymond Carver essay, “On Writing,” though it could be about anything. In it, he’s talking about writing short stories, getting a phrase or a sentence and realizing that this phrase or sentence comes out of the mouth of this [character], and the character sort of emerges and develops, and you [as the artist] just keep sketching it, redoing it until it feels right and true. That’s exactly what Matt was just saying in a way. With photography, there are these instantaneous gifts that happen, and they are more pronounced because they happen in the world that you could have never dreamed up.

Erin: So what role does the viewer play in creating the meaning of a photograph or in discerning its magic?

Matthew: It’s a kind of difficult because everyone brings their own meaning, but I think there is something about pictures that resonates. Different people have these different readings of them, but there is something shared, so you can say, “That’s a great picture,” or “I know that picture.” Then you can disagree completely about the meaning of the picture but there is something sort of ineffable about the quality of certain things.

Erin: What does the way in which people view art reveal about them? Did you find yourself judging them?

Matthew: I think that’s a primary issue whenever you’re making a portrait. Not that my pictures in Rome are portraits, but they do include that element. [How a person views art] deals a lot more with who the person is, how they see themselves and how they want to project themselves—and do they understand what you are doing? Are they participating in the whole idea or are they just trying to be in your picture? If they are just trying to be in the picture, it never works. It’s tricky. There’s a lot of failure. There are a lot of people you think are going to be really great. Then you take them somewhere—and you think, ‘That’s wonderful; their work revolves around this subject,’ and it’s terrible. It’s a disaster. You waste the entire day. The people who are best are those who really get lost in the process. The more successful photographs were made on the fly or they were heavily set-up to the point where people were exhausted, then they just started looking at the thing and they didn’t care what I was doing anymore.

Erin: Where does fashion or clothing factor into your photographs?

Matthew: One of the things I’m always disappointed in is when someone has too well a curated sense of fashion. In the pictures in Rome, that’s definitely a factor. I always sort of wished that if you made an appointment with somebody, it would be somebody who was maybe wearing some really ugly shoes with maybe a really nice skirt with maybe a mismatched dress, because this is how life really happens. I was just recently doing a job for the architects who did the redesign for Lincoln Center and it involves people passing through the space, so it’s spontaneous in some ways, and the people in Lincoln Center really have one of the best off-kilter senses of fashion. You have ladies waiting in line for scalper tickets and they’re wearing a pair of house slippers and some kind of Patagonia leggings, but they’re also wearing a fur coat.

Erin: Did your project achieve its goal and/or what about the project makes you proud?

Matt: I guess I’m proud of the fact that it’s a lot of work to get access [to the museums]. It’s a lot of emails and it’s a real drag to get these things organized and get permission to bring a big camera into a museum, but I keep doing it and I keep finding it interesting. Most of the pictures are in focus. I don’t really know what I set out to accomplish, but I like the pictures and I still want to take more. It’s part of a continuum and I still find it interesting after nearly five years…so that’s something.

Matthew: Something I love about the touch-tour pictures is that there is something that is totally non-visual, because how do you make photographs of something that isn’t a visual thing, in general?

Matt: I thought a lot about the fact that it seems sort of screwed up to take a photograph of someone who can’t see the photograph but who is experiencing art. Of course everyone knows they’re being photographed, and even though you might not know what a photograph looks like, you know what it is.

Erin: Given that, do the two of you feel there is a shared thread that binds your works?

Matt: Sure, there is the exploration of the modes of perception. That’s definitely the impetus behind both of these projects in some way, though I suppose you could say that about anything…

Matthew: We all spend a lot of time looking at art and [when you do that], you question the process. We were talking about this before… Sometimes you go and see something and you have this great experience, and sometimes you don’t. It’s not always about the art. It is, a lot of times, about you.

Erin: Can you tell me about current influences and projects, and how the projects we’re discussing here have influenced your present work?

Matthew: I’ve started taking pictures of docents, mostly. My wife is writer and very interested in history. She was a docent at the Merchant’s House Museum in Lower Manhattan for quite awhile, and when I got back from Rome I was sort of captivated by this idea of history and the things we think we know but that have to be told. They have to be told in a way that is enticing and interesting and accurate. All these scholars in Rome are constantly talking about the validity of this concept versus this concept; it’s kind of ridiculous on some level, but the narration of stories is really interesting. The more I watch people describe things and try to convince you, the more I realize: This is amazing—these gestural forms people make and the way they contort their faces when explaining which emperor slaughtered more people, or didn’t… So when I came back, I started to try and make these pictures of docents engaged in sort of “fraught” moments of description, but I think I only have two.

Matt: I am photographing church vans that are locked in cages. Two years ago, I moved to Memphis, where I grew up and [where] there are lots of churches. There are churches in rough neighborhoods or [in places] where there isn’t enough money to have a full-time staff, so they lock up their vans in cages with barbed wire around them and they’re usually the exact size of a parking space. I do it at night.

Erin: In curating the images you would show in this exhibition, what led you to select the particular images you did?

Matthew: It’s a little challenging as there are really two parts of the project: There are these funky little weird abstractions of my own observation, which I made largely with this Canon G10 point-and-shoot camera. Some of them are made on film and they’re in all different formats, but all of them are sort of odd, quirky observations. It’s kind of like when you go to a museum and you think you’re going to see this great thing, and then the baseboards in the museum are really weird and you get really caught up in this architectural detail or another random thing—the light fixture or the view… I really wanted to make those super subjective pictures. I think that’s what’s really interesting about looking at things. Then I sort of balanced them against these other pictures of people having their experience. Those I didn’t want to be so much about the space as they were about the people and what was happening to them in that space. So I kind of organized [my images] in a way that you have those pictures and you have the little detailed pictures, and the detailed pictures are smaller. I think they’re like 15 by 20 inches and the pictures of people looking are like 25 by 30 inches.

Matt: I have taken one Touch Tour picture in the last two years, so I put the pictures I had. I know that’s a bad answer. There’s not really much of a difference in the actual form of the pictures so I just picked the best pictures.

Left: Walk, Don’t Walk, 1976, Whitney Museum of American Art, 2011. C-print, 50 x 40 inches. Right: Marie Breath, Rome, Italy, 2009
Archival pigment print, 24 x 30 inches.

Matt Ducklo & Matthew Monteith: Mind’s Eye runs from March 16-April 28, 2012 on the fourth floor of Hermès at 691 Madison Avenue.

Lead Image Left: Notation Leaves, Rome, Italy, 2008. Archival pigment print, 15 x 20 inches. Lead Image Right: Evocation of a Form: Human, Lunar, Spectral (1950, enlarged and cast 1957), Hirshhorn Museum, 2008, C-print, 50 x 40 inches.

A welcome departure from the standard holiday festivities, The Grand Street Bakery marks the debut of The Cilo at The Bakery with tonight’s opening party. Situated in the back room of the bakery, which used to house a flour cilo, The Cilo expands The Bakery’s inspired mix of new and vintage clothing, homewares and trinkets by focusing on vintage electronic accessories, including vintage turntables, speakers, receivers and Danish Modern record buffets circa the ’60s. I was lucky enough to have a little sneak preview last week, and they’re truly beautiful. Among the “new” offerings are candles in the shape of Morrissey’s head, each hand carved by Derrick Cruz of Black Sheep & Prodigal Sons. Additionally, vinyls will be available from local bands, including the Wild Yaks, the Minks and Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson, who will be performing tonight at the opening along with Anyways It’s Monday.

The Cilo at The Bakery is located at 602 Grand Street, Brooklyn, NYC. Its opening party is tonight, December 16, from 7pm-11pm.

When I was in grade school, New York City was heralded as the world’s “melting pot,” an anthropomorphic melding of cultures. Today, word is that teachers have moved onto a “salad” analogy, arguing that while the various human ingredients harmoniously mix and mingle, they retain their separate identities. Whichever school you subscribe to, one of the most esteemed attributes of our city is its acceptance of all types.

Within New York, each of these distinct individuals carves out his or her niche, the place that becomes “home.” For native New Yorkers, home is usually the vicinity around which they grew up. For transplants, it’s more often than not the neighborhood of their first apartment. This is part of what makes the city endlessly fascinating: it is a different place for everyone. There are the occasional shared experiences, but for the most part your New York is as unique as your fingerprint.

New York:The Pegleg, the most recent installment in the WhaiWhai guidebook series, highlights this diversity, presenting an entertaining and educational tool that crosses eras, classes and ethnicities to offer a unique look at the iconoclasts, visionaries and dreamers who created and continue to inhabit New York.

The term “whaiwhai” comes from a Maori word meaning “to search for,” and consequently the guidebook is structured around the search for “the pegleg,” a particularly powerful prosthesis that first arrived in New York in 1647 on the leg of Dutch governor Peter Stuyvesant (true story). After Governor Stuyvesant’s death, the wooden leg, which was wrapped in bands of supposedly supernatural silver, was hidden in the family crypt in the East Village, where the governor was actually buried. The WhaiWhai story goes that before the crypt was permanently sealed, the leg vanished and has been missing since. The fictional narrator of The Pegleg, Shlep Wallace, is a longtime prop specialist who recently found the notebook of deceased scientist Nikola Tesla. Inside the notebook are clues speaking to the pegleg’s powers. Therefore, Shlep is calling upon the reader (you) to help recover the absconded appendage.

A text message exchange later (each book contains a unique code ) and you are on your way to exploring corners of New York that even the most seasoned city-goer has overlooked, which is why this guidebook is as entertaining for residents as it is for visitors. Each of the obscure sites featured contains a historical anecdote that exemplifies the eccentric personalities—past and present—who make up our eclectic “salad.”

My first stop was the spot where hotelier David Weissberg jumped to his death in 2002. Today it’s the Gramercy Park Hotel, a place I last visited for a luxury sunglasses launch. Next, I was led to 49 Irving Place, the former residence of interior design maven and style trailblazer Elsie De Wolfe and her partner Elisabeth “Bessy” Marbury, who entranced early 20th-century Manhattan society with their raucous parties. At each location you search for the answer to the riddle in the given story. Once found, you send it via text message and receive the code—which corresponds to the book’s tri-fold pages—to the next site. The ultimate goal, of course, is to find the elusive pegleg. And you can play as many times as you like; each adventure is different than the last.

Shlep may be the imaginary storyteller, but the real raconteur behind The Pegleg is Timothy Speed Levitch (who goes by Speed) a longtime New Yorker, writer, tour guide and actor whose descendants arrived via Ellis Island. Here, he reveals a bit about the creation of The Pegleg and offers an insight into his New York.

Erin Dixon: Tell us a bit about your background—how did you come to learn so much about New York?

Speed Levitch: I’m still learning about New York, of course. It’s an endless field of study. I started in the Bronx, lived in Riverdale and attended Horace Mann High School, but I barely knew my way around Manhattan until I went to NYU for college. I’m a flaneur and I’ve been appreciating the scenery and the stories of the city my whole life.

Erin: What was something you learned about New York during your research that surprised you?

Speed: That the Mercury Theater Company of players and their director/star Orson Welles all thought that the script for “War of The Worlds” was stupid, and right before they went on air Orson Welles apologized to his actors for burdening them with such dull, insipid material. Apparently, the actors were making fun of the script right up until air. Even as they were performing it live (as half of New Jersey freaked out), they were locked away in a little studio room in Midtown—just having fun with what they assumed was campy, overly sentimentalized material.

Erin: How did you decide which stories to incorporate?

Speed: In school, I studied playwriting and I was drawn to tour guiding due to the theatricality of the job—the performance aspect. When I’m looking at the history of the city, choosing stories about the city, I’m looking for a good play script I can perform. Mostly, I prefer comedy. I like funny stories most of all. Of course, a good play needs stories that are filled with passion, epiphany, surprise and dynamic human characters, which live through anecdotes we can all identify with and learn from. Hopefully, at the end of the stories there’s some kind of catharsis or healing for the reader.

Erin: Which is your favorite story or character in The Pegleg?

Speed: I’m a little bit fickle… The story I would choose for my favorite would be different depending on my mood and the time of day, etc. But I can answer for tonight. Tonight, my favorite story is “Flight of the Missouri Rockets.” It’s the story about how the Rockettes were invented and about the rite of passage that Radio City Music Hall had to go through in order to fully realize its potential as a music hall. Roxy, the visionary behind Radio City, is an amazing character and he stars in this beautiful tale about self-realization, the creative spirit and invention. (It’s also my favorite story because it features the Missouri Rockets, the dance troupe of 64 gorgeous ladies out of St. Louis.)

Erin: How did you come up with the character Shlep Wallace? Was he based on anyone you know?

Speed: Yes, Shlep is certainly an amalgam of several wise old men I’ve listened carefully to over the years, but, of course, Shlep is also his own man. I could hear his unique, rasping voice in my mind’s ear as I wrote the stories. While writing the stories, I often felt as if Shlep were giving me dictation.

Erin: Does the pegleg really exist, hidden somewhere in NY? Will the reader ever arrive at the true end?

Speed: I wouldn’t want to say for sure. I want to preserve the mystery and the fun of the game. Let me just say this: The stakes couldn’t be more raised! The pegleg really did exist. What really happened to it? Impossible to say for sure. It’s very possible that it’s buried with Stuyvesant’s body in his crypt underneath St. Mark’s Church. There are all sorts of historic images and artistic renditions of Peter Stuyvesant’s pegleg. Many of his contemporaries called it “silver leg” because it was a fancy pegleg that had silver bands. There is a Stuyvesant family crypt where his corpse was put, apparently with both his real and fake leg, but the family crypt wasn’t sealed until the last Stuyvesant went in there in the 1950s.

Erin: What is your favorite neighborhood in Manhattan?

Speed: Lately, my favorite neighborhood is the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Mainly, I think, just because it is such a mad mix of events. Another good name for that hood would be “unlikely.” It is a zany collection of events that birthed that current, unique place. It’s also a great place for nosh—the small, delicious immigrant foods you can enjoy as you walk. New York’s specialty is great food that moves with you.

Erin: If there is one place in Manhattan that everyone should see, what is it?

Speed: Rush hour. I enjoy viewing rush hour in and around Grand Central, of course. Penn Station is also excellent. Downtown, in general is good and the Staten Island Ferry Terminal…along the bridges, especially the Brooklyn Bridge. Really, I think the one landmark of New York that everyone should see is some perch where they can view and be properly overwhelmed by the magnitude of the city mobilizing during the two rush hours, daily. Of course, it’s always great people watching, too.

Erin: What makes Manhattan unique from other cities?

Speed: I tend to think that all cities and places are teachers. There’s something to learn from all real estate, basically. I’m writing a piece right now about Lawrence, Kansas and although Lawrence and its stories have different lessons to teach and certainly create a different tone and atmosphere than New York does with its stories, I’m still certian that both cities—the sixth largest city of the state of Kansas and New York—are equally themselves, equally unique. I think of them both as two great gurus, only very different gurus, who advise me on very different subjects.

Stop by Grand Central Terminal this afternoon to catch the final day of the Lacoste La Machine L.12.12 installation. Constructed by world-renowned high-tech collective Tronic, the innovative hexagonal sculpture melds animation and architecture with experiential and interactive design, with the purpose of introducing Lacoste’s Eau de Lacoste L.12.12 fragrance collection. It also allows up the company’s global social media fans to enjoy a few seconds of fame via personalized video sequences, and every 20 seconds La Machine mechanically and virtually transforms a Lacoste L.12.12 shirt into an Eau de Lacoste L.12.12 bottle. In short, it’s a mesmerizing study of the ways in which art, fashion and commerce intersect in a simultaneously virtual and tangible world, while the historical setting underscores the dramatic nature of this continuous and rapid transition.

Erik Madigan Heck, the New York-based photographer who shot the cover of our soon-to-debut fall 2011 issue, is launching his first book, January to August.

The book’s release will coincide with an exhibition of the same name at Ion Studio. Opening night is this Thursday, September 1, from 7pm-10pm and all are welcome. So stop by to see some beautiful photographs. Both mediums feature a compilation of eight new bodies of work created by Erik during the corresponding months in 2011, including fashion exclusives featuring the work of Ann Demeulemeester, Dries Van Noten and Comme des Garcons, a landscape series titled A Return to Giverny, personal documentary work and more.

January through August is on view from September 1 – November 25 at Ion Studio, 41 Wooster Street, NYC.

After the recent heat wave, one doesn’t need another reason to leave the city behind for the beach but just in case… It’s the last weekend to catch New York-based artist Richard Phillips’ Point of Purchase exhibition in East Hampton. As its name indicates its focus is the on commercial, highlighting Phillps’ retail and pop-culture collaborations—from MAC Cosmetics to Jimmy Choo to Gossip Girlto Visionaire—from 1999 to 2010 and exploring the artist’s interest in creating art that lives beyond gallery and museum walls.

Point of Purchase is showing at Glenn Horowitz Bookseller (87 Newtown Lane, East Hampton) now through Monday, August 8th.

Richard Phillips with Art Production Fund. Scout (Prop Art), 2010. Giclee prints on stretched canvas over a wood frame. 40 x 27.34 inches. Above: Richard Phillips with Visionaire. Visionaire #54 Sport – Lacoste (Coco), 2008. Lacoste printed polo shirt.

See goalkeeper Hope Solo—pictured above in a recent Nike campaign shot by Annie Leibovitz—and the rest of the US National team compete against Japan in the FIFA Women’s World Cup Final today at 2:45 EST on ESPN.

Along with being Emancipation Day, April 15th is National Day of Silence, a day when students across the country take a vow of silence to call attention to the damaging effects of anti-LGBT bullying and harassment in schools. Click here to pledge your support to this important event.

Image courtesy of Itayuri

Photography by Mara Corsino .
Styling by Fabiana Fierotti .
Hair by Marco Braca.
Makeup by Thais Bretas.
Model: Ann at Ice Models Milan.
Photographer’s Assistant: Giulia Soldavini.
Special thanks to: Hotel London Milano.

Above: Top, Luisa Beccaria. Shorts, M Missoni. Shoes, vintage Suzie Mas.

Top, M Missoni. Shorts, American Apparel.

Click “Read More” for additional images.

Left: Top, Luisa Beccaria. Shorts, vintage. Jacket, Miu Miu. Right: Top, Billy & Lola.

Jumper, M Missoni. Shoes, vintage Moschino. Glasses, vintage.

Left: Jumper, M Missoni. Shoes, vintage Moschino. Glasses, vintage. Right: Shirt, Strenesse. Shorts, Luisa Beccaria. Vest and belt, vintage. Shoes vintage Dolce & Gabbana. Hat, vintage Borsalino.

Shirt, vintage. Pants, M Missoni.

Dress, Marlboro Classics. Bag, Furla. Glasses, vintage Laura Biagiotti. Shoes, vintage.