"Small Tits Big Dreams" By Tea Hacic and Milan Based Art Duo No Text Azienda

text by Tea Hacic

When I was just a little kid I learned a song in music class called “Big Big Dreams.”  The chorus was, “big big dreams, lots of big dreams, things I wanna do some day, big big dreams, lots of big dreams, big dreams are OK.” I went home that day and sang the song to my mother and told her that I had written it. I knew that she knew that I didn’t, but I lied about it anyway. I saw shame in her eyes as I sang the phrases. I think of that moment often, about how embarrassing that must have been for her, to think she gave birth to a shithead. When I look back on that moment I wish it hadn’t happened, because since that moment I’ve tried not to lie. If that moment hadn’t happened, I may have become a talented liar by now. Maybe I’d be an entrepreneur or at least run a shabby-chic (yet efficient) Airbnb in LES that always has beer in the fridge and beautiful neighbors who are DTF. But I fucked that up.

SMALL TITS BIG DREAMS is a story about impostor syndrome. It’s about finding yourself in a new country, situation, job or curse you can’t find your way out of. You don’t know who you need to be so you violently push yourself to the limits in order to find out. It’s about dating an illiterate drug dealer only so he’ll invite you to parties and then hating all of your clothes so much that you take them off once you get there. It’s about having a goal and doing whatever you must to reach it, even if “whatever you must” means stealing your best friend’s wallet. It’s about Milan, a city that was sleeping until noon, spending all its money on shoes and falling into k-holes by midnight. But the city is changing … !

There is a new collective in Milan messing stuff up, flipping all the pizzas upside-down, cheese side on the ground, turning the aesthetic around! They are bored of fashion parties, fancy aperitivos and bars that exist only to show football games. They are inventing a new reality in the city that never weeps!

NO TEXT AZIENDA are a dude duo with a rebellious artistic agenda. Part of the GrossoMondo movement, a creative agency and magazine (with Yosephine Melfi and Carolina Amoretti), NO TEXT are video makers and “culture-jammers.”  I first met them years ago on the streets of Pta. Ticinese by accident and immediately felt compelled to stalk interview them. A lot has changed since then (mostly, my hair) but they’re still best friends (and according to half the city, a gay couple). Alvin Sonic and Ignoro Disoncelli are the types of swoon-worthy boys who seem like they get twelve hours of beauty sleep, then skateboard from bed to a swimming pool and back to bed. In reality, they work so hard they show up to your SMALL TITS BIG DREAMS shooting straight from a party—they haven’t eaten for days but they let you steal their first meal (a Big Mac) right out of their hands, for the sake of a scene. There’s a reason these kids have worked for Sterven Jonger and Nike! You’ll see!

If you’ve ever found yourself roaming the streets like a lunatic, searching for meaning (or at least a Zara sale), this film is for you. If you’ve caught yourself wondering when everyone will be as obsessed with you as you are, this film is for you. If you’re an exhibitionist, this film is for you (and so is WOVO a concept sex shop in Milan run by the film’s stylist)! If you want to hear an original track by RIVA this film is lasagna for your ears! If you love pigeons, hate taxes, feel hungry all the time, miss your parents, fantasize about your professors, think coconut water tastes like cum…this film was made for you! So what are you waiting for?

No matter who you are or what you’re into, remember Big Dreams Are OK…as long as you’re honest about them. 

Text by Tea Hacic. Follow Tea on Instagram here. Follow Autre Magazine: @AUTREMAGAZINE

Your Ultimate Art Basel Miami Detox Guide by Tea Hacic

Miami Art Basel is that magical time once a year, when the young and fabulous (and their sugar daddies) travel to paradise to see art and sleep with art dealers. Miami Art Basel is where editors brag about their fair trade hemp sandals while snorting cocaine that was brought into the country by a pregnant teenager.

Photo by @youvegotnomale

Miami Art Basel is where wet dreams come true and creative dreams are killed by two girls stabbing each other and therefore stealing attention from your performance art piece (dancing in leotards is a little 2008, tbh). 

Some people do look at art at Art Basel, because it’s their job to and because it’s raining too hard outside to say “screw it, I’ll get fired for the sake of a tan.”

But for those of us who don’t know the difference between digital collages and foam sculptures, the week  of Miami Art Basel was an excuse to go Hard As Hell (or HAH!) before the holy holidays. For those of us #blessed enough to be there, half the fun was making our Instagram followers who aren’t #blessed jealous of our poolside lounging. But the fun doesn’t have to end! The only thing your followers will hate more than seeing you enjoying Miami is seeing you bounce back afterwards.

photo by @yulzina

 

POST META MIAMI ART BASEL DETOX :

1) SPIRITUAL DISCOVERY
All that gossiping about those girls dressed like that at the Edition hotel wasn’t good for your soul. Hearing what your gay friends did at Twist (without you?!) didn’t feed your spirit. Name dropping Millie Brown to get free K wasn’t good for your Karma. Now that you’re home, spend some quality time on YOU, searching for an answer deep within…like, where in the deep web can one find leaked pictures of Saint West?

2) SELF-LOVE

Your face is disgusting. Come to terms with it. Say it out loud, whisper it in a mirror, yell it at the sky. Admit it: you got so wasted at that MoMa PS1 party that you spent half the night pitching articles to the Wall Street Journal! (What’s the Wall Street Journal Doing at Basel? should have been one of them). In addition to alcohol poisoning, your skin is full of chlorine because you thought it would be fabulous to take your dress off and jump into the pool at the Versace Mansion party in the middle of the afternoon.

You were topless in front of all those New York Kids! And what did they do? They ignored you, the same way they do at Up&Down…because they were all on their phones, snapping pics of their cleavage and asking their moms to send more cash. On top of all that, falling asleep on someone’s Juicy Couture top (now un-ironic…thanks, VFILES!) couldn’t be good for your pores. I hear turmeric helps clear skin but I also hear it’s disgusting. Someone told me to crush Aspirin and make a face mask out of that and I would if I hadn’t stuffed my last painkillers in every orifice to try and ease my headaches. An easier option? Cover your brand new pimples in crystals instead. Willow Smith says they have healing powers. I hope she means the plastic ones…

3) EYES WIDE SHUT

Avoid all art!! Your eyes need a break from “made from scratch” Photoshop, sculptures with phone references and painted soft porn.

Ok, your goal was to go HAH! but you accidentally caught some art when you finally couldn’t bare another day cooped inside the Soho House…it started to feel wrong, as if outside the El Nino apocalypse were taking place and you were in a group of select privileged people who were chosen to survive it.

 

Even Lebron James had to flee that place! (Well, he left Soho House only when your friend started taking pics of him--what saved her from arrest were the butt pics Lebron’s bodyguard found on her phone when deleting all evidence of his employer’s sneaky whereabouts).

4) SWEAT IT OUT

All that dancing in heels and falling in sand took a toll on your muscles. Get some good stretching done while lying on your belly, arms reached out in front of you, holding your phone, deleting the numbers you picked up from Le Baron at Delano. (Why was everyone French there? Why are French men so slutty with their digits?)

5) NOURISH THYSELF

You probably ate a lot of Cuban Sandwiches, Haitian hangover helpers and buttery brunch bullshit…my body is still hurting from the egg salad I ate at the Toilet Paper lounge at the UNTITLED fair, which was basically just a pint of mayonnaise. This post-Basel week, only eat nourishing and cleansing things your body and bowels will thank you for. Here’s what your diet should look like:

Breakfast:

Happiness Smoothie (MDMA comedown recipe)

Lunch:

A handful of sprouts sprinkled over gluten-free toast, topped off by a laxative.

Dinner:
A Bloody Mary, 12 oysters your Tinder Date will pay for, a handful of pita chips from the samples section of Whole Foods and a taco from a truck near the Bedford Stop™

If none of that helps, just post a throwback pic from the beach and write “miss u” .

Text by Tea Hacic. Follow Tea on Instagram here. Follow Autre Magazine: @AUTREMAGAZINE