dress by TIMSTO
ballerina by Rombaut
tights by Wolford
wool brief by Lou de Betoly

text, styling & creative direction by Chiara Bottin
photographs by Debora Brune
talent Pauline Anna Gudet
hair by Alan Antoineh
makeup by Jennifer Le Corre
assistant Emma Obermann
styling assistant Ana Elena Uscatu

dress by Lina Nix
heels by Bottega Veneta
tights by Wolford

bralette by Lou de Betoly
gloves by Squillance
mesh brief by Her Senses
wool brief on top by Colombe de Naes
tights by Wolford
heels by r.l.e

I’m always trying to feel the right proportions. Not in my head, but in my body. How much tension I can hold before it turns into something else? Stretching, yoga, bending myself into strange shapes — it’s how I stay connected when things get too loud. Balance never stays. The moment I think l’ve found it, it slips away. I drift.

My body folds into awkward positions, pauses too long, leans too far. It doesn’t look right, but it feels necessary. Sometimes being weird is the only way I can breathe. Most of this happens when no one is around. Almost invisible moments. Naked or half dressed, a cigarette between my fingers, stretching without knowing why. My favourite boots on the floor or still on my feet, grounding me. I’m just listening — to my weight, to gravity, to what I can carry and what I need to drop.

puffer jacket by Alessandro Santi
ballerina by Rombaut
corsage & brief by Her Senses

jacket by Cem Cinar
skirt by Colombe de Naes
hook mules by Sia Arnika
hat by Polyhedron

Outside, things soften. I hug a tree, let my legs hang from a branch, give in instead of holding myself together. Nature doesn’t ask for balance. It allows imbalance.

The story moves between inside and outside — apartment, studio, open space.

Each place shifts something in me.

dress by Ottolinger
heels by r.l.e
tights & transparent socks by Wolford

full look by Sia Arnika
bracelet by Laruicci

mini knit cardigan by Colombe de Naes
knit bra & brief by Lou de Betoly
wheel skirt by TIMSTO
heels by r.l.e
tights by Wolford

The same body, but different proportions, depending on how exposed I feel. Balance isn’t calm. It isn’t clean. It’s fragile and messy and personal. I don’t find it by being correct. I find it by letting myself be off.