Men. Secrets. Enemies. Shared. Passed between them like cigarettes. They dated the same men, laughed behind their backs. They obsessed over everything there was to obsess about: cultivated food, went to the right restaurants with the right people—food snobs, if you asked. Fashion as fever. Fashion week. The shows. The parties. They got invited to them all. IT girls. Untouchable. Adored. The ones people wanted to be, wanted to use them as a sip-down suit they could put on and live their complete lives. They talked others down but built themselves up—high—on a pedestal of their own self-perception, of self-made myth. Self-proclaimed literary nihilists. Devotees of gender studies. Top of the world, they thought. Everything under control. Then— Depression. Psychosis. A shadow. A meeting with the underworld. As if.
Oil on canvas
32 × 39 in (80 × 100 cm)
2025
Unframed
Men. Secrets. Enemies. Shared. Passed between them like cigarettes. They dated the same men, laughed behind their backs. They obsessed over everything there was to obsess about: cultivated food, went to the right restaurants with the right people—food snobs, if you asked. Fashion as fever. Fashion week. The shows. The parties. They got invited to them all. IT girls. Untouchable. Adored. The ones people wanted to be, wanted to use them as a sip-down suit they could put on and live their complete lives. They talked others down but built themselves up—high—on a pedestal of their own self-perception, of self-made myth. Self-proclaimed literary nihilists. Devotees of gender studies. Top of the world, they thought. Everything under control. Then— Depression. Psychosis. A shadow. A meeting with the underworld. As if.
Oil on canvas
32 × 39 in (80 × 100 cm)
2025
Unframed
