the violet femmes

by Rachel Lynch in


Wild-eyed girls, not american, never were, never wanted to be. Not dressing for boys anymore, certainly they wouldn't want a fearless outsider in thrifted threads. Throw on that fur and hail the skies, beauty is crawling inside our animalistic souls. We are much too simple to throw together a practical outfit or make sense of a midnight. We tame our feelings inside wine glasses and throw our lovers out to sea. Life is a rouge of beautiful carefree nectar from the most feminine of honey.