Azealia Banks is everywhere. Did you see that shoot that’s in Dossier? Did you hear that new track, Jumanji? In the spirit of summer and excess and hype, here are some outtakes from our shoot with Michael Flores of the young Rapunzel taking off a pair of sunglasses. Don’t be a Kool Aid dude, one-two.

Shirt: Fred Perry
Skirt: Jac Langheim
Sunglasses: Jeremy Scott
Necklace: Bing Bang by Anna Sheffield
Lingerie: The Lake and Stars

Click “Read More” for additional images.

On May 4, a series of books by the Italian photographer Jacopo Benassi were showcased at The Milan Image Art Fair. Among the featured work were the set of photos, The Ecology of Image, and two collaborative works with Kubiat Nnamdie and Pete Voelker titled LaSpezia is Not Miami/ Miami is not LaSpezia and LaSpezia is not New York/ New York is not LaSpezia.

Though he might be relatively unknown outside his home country, this was not Benassi’s first large-scale acknowledgment. The self-publisher of his own books, Benassi’s works seem to emerge from some place raw and pulpy, still pulsing and bloody, often literally: a girl covers herself in layers of meat, pigs roll in mud, Benassi is naked save for a well-placed mini-coffin, fingers are bloodied, beautiful flowers are so enormous and pink they look like grotesque body parts. Photographers themselves, like Olivier Zahm and Terry Richardson, are some of his most illustrative subjects; it’s a testament to Benassi’s spirit that two purveyors of salacity become subdued in front of his lens. Benassi is good at exposing the lurid, better at vulnerably revealing himself.

Jose El Rey by Kubiat Nnamdie

LaSpezia is not Miami/ Miami is not LaSpeziais Benassi’s first proper collaborative effort. One side of the small, zine-like book is his, the other side is Nnamdie’s. While Nnamdie’s work displays a certain nuanced distance, it is all distilled with the same gritty quality as Benassi’s. Nnamdie is more the voyeur of his scenes, less the maker.

Jacopo Benassi: This project arose from an idea I had with my friend, Warbear, for a gay film festival. He invented the name “La Spezia is not Los Angeles.” Fantastic! This festival has not yet been done, and I asked him permission to use the slogan for my zines. This work’s concept is based on a “split,” with the same mood of old punk bands who recorded tapes and discs with an A side of one band and a B side of another. My idea is the same, but with photos.

Untitled Image by Jacopo Benassi

Monica: How did you select your collaborators, and how did you pick the images? I saw the preview for the book you did with Kubiat and although there are many aesthetic similarities, they’re really distinguished from each other.

Jacopo: Kubiat was incredible. We understood the other immediately and I wished to continue this partnership with him. He presented me with Pete, with whom I made LaSpezia is not New York. In my work, I hadn’t used photos of my city itself, because a city is just a place where a person lives—not the person itself. And this is the concept I want to expose. I love Kubiat and Pete because they shoot with the same mood you have when you fuck. You have erections naturally, and naturally they make their work.

Monica: Kubiat, what kind of moments—visually speaking, of course—ended up in the book?

Kubiat Nnamdie: There are funny ones, like my first muse and dear friend, Amanda Wagner, being kissed by a young man yearning for her, and wild nights with my last muse, Jozie Gonzalez, around Miami. And there are very emotional and spiritual moments that give birth to photos like the cow head, taken at my dad’s funeral.

Efrain Blue by Kubiat Nnamdie

Monica: Is it important that the photos you picked represented Miami, since the book’s title alludes to it? Or were other ideas being represented?

Kubiat: No, I try to not control that. Some works can point directly to Miami, to me as a person who grew up in Miami, or to both. The book’s title is also a celebration of both cities.

Monica: The concept of place and landscape is a really weighty one. I like the idea of visually comparing two places. When you see photographs of a particular environment, it becomes an idea, something both imagined and real, and it makes me wonder how the photographer saw it.

Jacopo: I’m not able to see a place—I try to live it at its best! I can’t shoot in a place I have just started to live. I always try to restrict these spaces to just a few photos. In all these years, I have learned to renounce something, in any case, so I can look at my job clearly.

Beheading of a King 1 by Kubiat Nnamdie

Monica: Then how do you feel about your respective hometowns? How would you describe your relationships with them?

Jacopo: I have a love-hate relationship with my city. But I love my city even more than before, especially after having lived in Milan, where I sometimes go for work. I’ve got a club here in La Spezia with some dear friends of mine: I organize events that I later document and record for my book and CD productions. The name of the club is Btomic, and it’s where I house my AntiBtomic self-publishing label.

Kubiat: I have very warm feelings for Miami, even though I also grew up in Houston, Texas. I love Miami, but naturally I feel people need to hit the refresh button on the place they love. I think Miami is refreshing itself.

Monica: Jacopo, you titled the books La Spezia is NOT Miami, NOT New York. What are their connections to and differences between each other? You are also using the images to connect people, not just places.

Untitled Images by Jacopo Benassi

Jacopo: I’m not interested in differences. [The pictures] are not social research about the environment—it’s about humanity. When someone looks at The Ecology of Image, they usually ask me how many places I traveled to have accumulated so many photos. I answer “between La Spezia and Milan,” and they remain perplexed. Pete, Kubiat, and I work in the same metaphorical landscape. This is what unites us.

Monica: Tell me what else you are working on for the future.

Jacopo: I feel sick if I think about my future. The future is now. I don’t want to go ahead.

From left to right Amanda and Luis by Kubiat Nnamdie

Top Image: Untitled Images by Jacopo Benassi

Watermelon Mouse was created by Oliver Clark and is a product of his complex, insightful, inspired brain. Tune in regularly for more installments.

London’s perennially popular Frieze Art Fair descended on New York City for the first time last week with a roar, bringing with it Frieze’s famous custom-designed tent (this iteration designed by Brooklyn-based SO-IL), and unique programming around the fair’s temporary home on Randall’s Island. The Frieze Art Fair, organized by the inimitable duo Amanda Sharp and Matthew Slotover, has for the past 11 years been exclusively a London affair—fortunately for New Yorkers and other art lovers, the Frieze empire’s expansion across the pond promises to be a positive influence on the New York art world by invigorating the gallery scene and applying some needed pressure on the staid Armory Show to step up its game.

Above left: Ben Schmacher at Bortolami. Courtesy of Bortolami Gallery. Right: Paulina Olowska at Galeria Foksa. Photograph by Pip Deely.

Justin Matherly. “Every body moves, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly (Dedicate to everyone).” Courtesy of Bureau.

Left: Virginia Overton. “Untitled (mirrors for Randall’s Island)”. Commissioned and produced by Frieze Projects New York. Photograph by Linda Nylind. Courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze. Right: Artist Uri Aran and curator Kalika Farmer.  Photograph by Pip Deely.

Uri Aran. “Untitled, (Ticket Shack).” Commissioned and produced by Frieze Projects New York. Photograph by Linda Nylind, Courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.

Left: Henry Codax (a collaboration between Jacob Kassay and Olivier Mosset). “Untitled (Purple). ” Courtesy of Martos Gallery. Right: Ryan McGinley. “Marmoset (Horizon Blue).” Courtesy of Team Gallery, New York.

Leif Ritchey. “Green Tangerine. ” Courtesy of the journal gallery.

Left: David Adamo at Untitled Gallery (NADA fair). Photograph by Pip Deely. Right: Transcendental black metal band Liturgy at Essex Street gallery. Photograph by Pip Deely.

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

It was the evening when Venus and Jupiter were perfectly aligned and reached its closest point to the human eye. I was getting ready for dinner with the “godfather” of American avant-garde cinema – Jonas Mekas. Filmmaker, poet and curator, Mekas is a living monument. He fled his native Lithuania at age 22, trying to avoid German arrest at home for anti-Nazi activities. During war, he spent time in various forced labor camps until immigrating to America in 1949. It was only in New York that he picked up his first camera, a Bolex, and ever since he’s been capturing “fragments of paradise” of the world around him. His diary films encompass a wide range of experiences and events, from his early experiences at the Warhol Factory to frenetic glimpses of a summer spent with Jackie Kennedy.  He also co-founded The Anthology Film Archives, a cathedral of independent cinema housing over 70,000 historic avant-garde films.

In his numerous interviews and appearances, Jonas answered pretty much any question one can think of so it seemed redundant to take a formal interview as an approach. Instead, I abandoned any mental script of this encounter and tipsy with awe and wine I just sat back, watching and listening to Jonas and his “holy madness” unravel before me to the cadence of a meal.

Written, filmed and edited by Barbara Anastacio
Sound by Marcelo Oliveira

This is a little teaser video provided by Andrew Kuykendall from the shoot he did in Palm Springs with the insanely beautiful Ashely Smith for the new issue of . We are so excited about our new issue, I don’t even know where to start. I think it is our weirdest, most interesting issue ever (really, seriously) and I’m just balls out in love with it. More teasers to come, as I sit on my hands trying to not leak the entire issue to you.

Shot and edited by Andrew Kuykendall and Jean-Pierre Caner. Model, Ashely Smith. Styling by Djuna Bel for Giant Artists. Makeup and Hair, Daniele Pierson. Styling Assistant, Sara Medd. Song: “It’s Your Voodoo Working” by Charles Sheffield

Molly Donahue, formerly of the band Love Story, recorded her first solo album this year, entitled Metal Alvin, which is due out at the end of this month. In addition to this, Molly also has a photo blog where she records her life separated into different segments- namely, “eats,”(food) “out of doors,”(nature) “animalia,”(animal friends) “noir”(spooky landscapes) and “people and places.” Friend, fan, and fellow flower girl, Frances Tulk-Hart, sat down with Molly to discuss the inspiration behind her new project.

Frances Tulk-Hart: Hey Molls, I had so much fun shooting you for your new up and coming album, Metal Alvin. Can you tell us a bit about it starting with the rather obscure name? Where did Metal Alvin come from?

Molly Donahue: I had a blast shooting, too. Metal Alvin just sort of came out of nowhere one night, hanging out with Renn and Jason (Love Story band members) and leaving obscure comments on websites. I guess you could say I used it as a ghost name and it just sort of stuck. I like the way it looks on paper and think it rolls off the tongue nicely. People will hate it or not understand it and that’s okay. Such is life.

Frances: What was the inspiration behind the album?

Molly: I’m at a place right now where I’m really missing the woods and open land and the quiet, and i think that is pretty evident in the songs. Oh, and birds. They make quite a few appearances throughout the album…

Frances: This is your third album, but your first solo album. How was it working on your own as opposed to collabing with  your old band “the love story”?

Molly: The Love Story was pretty magical. We fed off of one another easily and songs just formed out of thin air, no composing required. That’s a pretty special thing and made it really easy to be in a band. It helps that they are two of my dearest friends. But I started out as an extremely shy musician. Still am, actually. My dad was my only audience until I began sending Renn Cassettes via snail mail. This album has been a long time coming. It’s very quiet in comparison to The Love Story, which is on purpose.

Frances: You are also a rad DJ. Which band or singers do you think you have a similar sound to? And where do you play?

Molly: Hmm… Vocal-wise I’ve been compared to everyone from Dolores O’Riordan to Siouxsie. They’re both huge compliments but I don’t hear it at all. I just hear myself. It’s hard to separate yourself from your own voice. And Metal Alvin live? We shall see. I have mind-buckling stage fright.

Frances: If you could have any pop star, dead or alive, over to your house for a dinner party, who would it be?

Molly: Oh man, Kurt Cobain. I was 14 when Nevermind came out. That’s a shape-shifting age. How about I go with the less cliché answer and say Liz Phair. Exile in Guyville is a perfect album, start to finish. Her lyrics are brilliant. and she inspired me to learn to play the guitar.

Frances: If the race for the presidency ended up being between Sarah Palin and Kim Kardashian, who would you vote for?

Molly: Ha! Wow. That’s a nightmare in the making. Politics are so depressing. If I have to choose I say Kim Kardashian. I’d rather the earth be plastered in makeup than covered in an oil slick, though I guess they are essentualy the same thing. Humans can be such monsters!

Frances: And finally, what was your New Year’s resolution? Did you figured one out?

Molly: Just to live long and prosper. Is that a Star Trek quote?

You can buy a CD, download an MP3, or buy a cassette by clicking here (yes, you read right. You can still buy a cassette).
Photos by Frances Tulk-Hart

“Everything should be beautiful, if you can just start from there.”- AJR

Meet A. Jason Ross, the designer and master craftsman behind a stunning collection of accessories for men and women rapidly advancing into the realm of ‘must have’.  In truth, Ross already has a cult following of fashionistas as well as those who love to indulge in quiet luxury – his designs are absent of, so-called, ‘neon-sign’ labels.

Ross’s design studio is housed in the former Monarch Luggage factory in Red Hook, Brooklyn.  It’s a fitting home for the designer who crafts leather accessories under the name Artemas Quibble and the Creatures of Mme. Du Barry. Upon entering, you know that you are in an artisan’s lair. A visitor is immediately greeted with the sweet smell of leather and the various rhythms of cutting, sanding, hammering, pounding, forging, casting, soldering and buffing, this as artists are busy at work.  Hand-crafted tools, designed by Ross (he has 27 hammers), share wall space with leather swatches, thick, antique leather remnants, deconstructed keys and crops from other metal artifacts. Ross, with the help of lighting designer Robert Ogden collects a lot of antique materials. Huge windows usher in natural light – showcasing the beauty of the rough-hewn wood floors and the artful chaos of the studio’s walls.

The day I caught up with Ross, he was preoccupied with a new collaboration forged with Donna Karan – a stunning collection of belts for Karan’s ‘Casual Luxe’ line. Of course, that’s not all that’s keeping Ross busy these days. He pedals his wares at Urban Zen. There’s a venture with ABC and handbags for Henry Beguelin. He has also developed a bespoke service with Barney’s called the ‘Watch Transformation Project.’  This is not your father’s watchband, nor is it you your mother’s.  It’s a bold, innovative design embellished with an antique metal over-leather hinge, with a short or long, sinewy strap with or without a buckle. The leather’s rich patina lends a sublime elegance to the band.  Says Ross, “The watch mechanism is a very beautiful thing and I love the idea of having the raw, rougher antique metal work next to say a 19^th, 20^th or 21^st century watch.” A WTP band is a final flourish of one’s dress that uniquely presents a vibe that is both rugged and refined.

It’s a curious mix that is representative of Ross himself. Ross is a history and archeology-buff or “geek” depending on how you look at it. It’s that respect for the past that clearly informs his design sensibility. “My daily read is Archeology.org, Arts and Letters Daily and I also read the latest Discovery and that usually leads me to some kind of interesting website which might lead me in a new direction in my work,” he says adding, “I can look to any ancient period to find inspiration.” Ross admits that as a kid he was eager to dig up dinosaur bones in the yard of his family’s home, alas it never happened. During summer camp in Maine however, he recalls digging up old bottles and fragments of old bottles on the site of a former hospital. “I remember that as being tremendously exciting,” he says adding, “I like, with my work, to have history.”

Ross, who is also a guest lecturer at the Parsons School of Design, describes himself as an ‘abstract perfectionist’. When you look at his work, to the untrained eye, it looks like an accident when in fact there are blueprints, laws, rules and ‘illustrated tales’ that describe everything. “When you work with primitive tools which is part of the process of my work and part of what informs it, you have to have laws that govern the construction of the piece because there’s a certain randomness that happens,” according to Ross. He also gives credit to his girlfriend Natasha Chekoudjian, “She is a muse to me and is really amazing at sourcing ancient references.”

A Philadelphia transplant, Ross has been in Manhattan about a year and a half. The decision to make the move from Philly to Gotham was simple: he had a growing list of clients and business contacts in the City and wanted to be more accessible to them. “The reality is, there was not a store in Philadelphia selling my work,” according to Ross. He grew up on Philadelphia’s Main Line in a home appointed with French antiques, “a lot of gilt bronze,” he says. His mother, the late Caren Ross, in the 70’s, created a line of accessories including belts made of bullets under the label Bang Bang. His father Milton Ross was an inventor and manufacturer with an appreciation for Savile Row suits and Mr. Fish shirts. Ross, the younger, was educated at the elite Haverford School before attending Boston University.

He says he never thought he’d be making accessories. He started off making boxes constructed of reclaimed wood, lined with antique papers from engineering drawings. He then began making furniture. Ross developed an interest in accessories after becoming fascinated by leather machinery belting he saw at a wood-worker’s shop he was renting space in. Eventually, he began incorporating leather into his woodworking. At some point, he was asked to make a bracelet for a friend, Doub Hanshaw, who wore it to work. The buyers she worked with became interested in the bracelet and that ultimately translated into an order from Free People.

The label name, Artemas Quibble and Creatures of Mme du Barry, was initially a character to hide behind, as Ross didn’t see himself as an accessory designer – it was so distant from his woodworking. Nor did he see himself in the world of fashion because he was partly intimidated by it. In any case, Artemas Quibble, borrowed from the Arthur Cheney Train novel, had a quirky, enigmatic appeal. The Creatures of Madame du Barry has its roots in a guide to France from the late 1900’s. The curiously charming collision of the two names to create a label for his brand is also partly Ross railing against the machine. The ‘machine’ that, in a world of texts and tweets, compels ppl 2 shrtn evrythng.

With keen attention to detail a hallmark of who Ross is, intrepid photographer Weston Wells and I were eager to ‘pick his pockets’ and examine the details of his existence.

“I cannot walk out of the door without a journal and a pen in the same way I can’t walk of the door with my inhaler, I don’t know if I’m going to need it but I always have to have it,” says Ross adding that as an artist, “You have to be able to archive your ideas.” Ross makes his own journals using antique book covers. He mixes his own ink for the Mont Blanc pen he carries, “Hopefully it looks like the burnt umber you might find in da Vinci’s notebook or something… I dunno.” The specs are antiques. The two leather cases, Ross made for himself. One is a combination checkbook holder and wallet. The other case, in the photo, plays host to miscellaneous items including business cards, his iPhone, which is great for inspiration photos and mapping. A pocket-knife adorns the keychain. “It’s very functional. It seems like I’m always needing a little blade to open a package or cut a piece of leather,” he says. A final detail, not photographed, is what appears to be a remnant of a shirt or other much-loved article of clothing which has been resurrected as a scarf or roughly tied ascot.

Photography by Weston Wells

In the midst of this year’s CMJ festivities, WDRKMR (Alexander Iezzi and Jordan Robin), caught up with Los Angeles-based musician Chelsea Wolfe. They  found her at stylist Jenni Hensler’s Williamsburg loft for a rainy afternoon of dress-up and conversation.

WDRKMR: Photographing you was especially fantastic because of your visible transformation when you get into wardrobe and in front of the camera. Can you tell us about how style and performance affect you as an artist/musician?

Chelsea Wolfe: I really liked working with you guys too. I found traces of flowers scattered down the stairs later. I’m one of those wear-on-the-outside-what-you-feel-on-the-inside sort of people, so getting dressed or dressed up has a lot to do with what’s on my mind or heart any given day. Lately I’ve been really inspired by layers, furs, leather, and jewelry that doubles as a weapon or armor. I don’t consider myself a visual artist at all, so trying to bring together clothing that suits the music is a good challenge for me..

WDRKMR: You started with theater, didn’t you? Were you playing music all the while or did you transition from one to the other?

Chelsea: I didn’t start with theater, actually… I mean, I’ve been indirectly involved with things of that sort my whole life, but it took me a really long time to feel comfortable as a performer and not just someone who records and stays hidden. I’m naturally a pretty hermitic person.

WDRKMR: Either way, there is a very theatrical quality to your music not only because of styling and performance, but there is also a sonic drama that matches the mood of your look. Which would you say comes first? Does the music develop from the mood, or does the mood develop from the music?

Chelsea: They work together. I’m always trying to create an atmosphere and a film screen within each song. I want something bigger than sound.

WDRKMR: Can you identify a moment when your interest in fashion came to be? How would you explain the role of fashion in your work?

Chelsea: I’ve always been interested in fashion, and of course being able to follow collections from afar on the internet helps create constant inspiration. I didn’t understand what sort of silhouettes I wanted or needed for a long time, I would just wear layers of black. But now I’m experimenting more and trying to find the right shapes for me and clothing that brings together form and function. I need to be able to move around and breathe and know that what I’m wearing isn’t going to come apart. I like straps and laces and clasps. I can’t stand wearing something that feels like it’s going to fall off if I move an inch. I like things that look medical or strangely oversized or out of date. Margiela, Ann Demeulemeester, Alexander McQueen, Mordekai, Iris van Herpen…

WDRKMR: What draws you to the dark and often occult objects that you use in styling? For example the detailed headpieces, oversized spikes, horns, etc. We noticed Jenni had a lot of symbolic accessories for you.

Chelsea: I think it’s an affinity for toughness, warriors, nordic folk and white trash… and something elegant mixed in. Kind of black metal in a less blatant way. Yes, Jenni does an amazing job of understanding my all-over-the-place influences and bringing them together in a cohesive way.

WDRKMR: How do you identify yourself and your work? Would you say that Chelsea Wolfe is a musician, an artist, or something other?

Chelsea: I think musician and artist are the same thing for me. I approach music in a way that has privacy and integrity and is influenced more by film, visual art, books, than by other music.

WDRKMR: Would you say you have a different persona onstage or on camera than off? What are the similarities and differences between Chelsea Wolfe onstage and Chelsea Wolfe offstage?

Chelsea: No, pretty much the same. A combination of shy and rage. I am pretty moody, not a jerk, but my mood ranges in extremes within a day, show, hour.

WDRKMR: We have been interviewing a number of people working in different creative fields, we’ve found that while disciplines and process change, there are two constants in the creative world: wandering and dreams. Would you say that these things are part of your process? Also, do you remember your dreams? Can you tell us about a dream you’ve had?

Chelsea: Well, last night I dreamed that Rei Kawukabo brought me some Comme des Garçons dresses in different shades of red. Usually my dreams are very elaborate, like little movies, with lots of colors and shapes. When I was younger I had night terrors, I would scream in my sleep, but really I was just having these repetitive, maddening dreams about one singular object growing large and small over and over. I think it helped shape my perspective of size and distance, which is really kind of off. If you didn’t mean literal dreams, I’ll say I also find dreams as in goals very important. It wasn’t until I started admitting that I wanted to succeed as a musician that I found a single ounce of success. And I still have a very long way to go!

WDRKMR: Can you describe what your process is like?

Chelsea: Creative process? It depends. Sometimes inspiration hits me out of nowhere, like a crush, you know? And I just become obsessed with something without really knowing much about it, or him, or her, and I follow that inspiration wherever it leads. But sometimes I’ll do research on a subject and fill my head with words and pictures pertaining to something that intrigues me and write songs and work on things that way.

WDRKMR:  Are you originally from Los Angeles? I am. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the unique creative energy I find in LA and how it differs from New York, or another city where there is a bit more of a street culture and a more confined space to walk through the streets. I spend a lot of time walking with my headphones and thinking of ideas, but in LA there is a different way of using the place to find inspiration because of car culture and the way the city is set up. Is there somewhere you go or a location you find inspiring? Do you use the city in your creative process?

Chelsea: I’m from Northern California, on the outskirts of the capital city. I think the place I grew up influenced me a lot. A big, old, overgrown house across the street from the train tracks and next-door to a railroad museum. Something about forward-motion and nature mixing with humanity. I’ve lived in LA for a year and it has new inspiration. This glittering darkness, the constant sun and smog, dirty and sparkling. I love it. I’m constantly surprised by new areas of LA and the different feel each place has. I don’t mind car culture because I’m not really one to be out in the open a lot. Walking around with a lot of other people makes me paranoid. But I do love New York and I think in a setting like that I’m able to actually forget that anyone is around me and just pretend I’m alone. If I ever get nervous onstage I use that same trick.

Photographs by WDRKMR (Alexander Iezzi & Jordan Robin)
Styling by Jenni Hensler

Top image: neck piece made of broken mirror shards, made by stylist; gloves, Dolce & Gabbana; dress, Gemma Kahng; headpiece, Bevel

Second image: chain headpiece, Mordekai; neckpiece, Gris Gris; dress, Mandy Coon

Third image: fur arms, Logan Neitzel; tunic, Gemma Kahng; skirt, Mandy Coon; belt and wrist cuff, Mordekai; headpiece, Bevel

Fourth image: neck piece made of broken mirror shards, made by stylist; gloves, Dolce & Gabbana; dress, Gemma Kahng; headpiece, Bevel

Fifth image: fur arms, Logan Neitzel; tunic, Gemma Kahng; skirt, Mandy Coon; belt, rings and wrist cuff, Mordekai

Sixth image: metal halo, Mordekai; leather top, Gris Gris; vintage lace top, Christian Lacroix; skirt, Timothy K;
gloves, Dolce & Gabbana; ring, Bevel

Seventh image: fur arms, Logan Neitzel; tunic, Gemma Kahng; skirt, Mandy Coon; belt and wrist cuff, Mordekai; headpiece, Bevel; belt, wrist cuff and rings, Mordekai