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“Oh. Okay. I see. You think this has nothing to do with you. You go to your closet and you select… that lumpy blue sweater, But what you don’t know is that that sweater is not just blue, it’s not turquoise. It’s not lapis. It’s actually cerulean. And you’re also blithely unaware of the fact that in 2002, Oscar de la Renta did a collection of cerulean gowns. And then I think it was Yves Saint Laurent… wasn’t it who showed cerulean military jackets. And then cerulean quickly showed up in the collections of eight different designers. And then it filtered down through the department stores…that blue represents millions of dollars and countless jobs and it’s sort of comical how you think that you’ve made a choice that exempts you from the fashion industry when, in fact, you’re wearing the sweater that was selected for you by the people in this room.” -Miranda Priestly The Devil Wears Prada

letter from the editors


Welcome to the debut issue of inconnu magazine!

We came up with the idea for inconnu at a yogurt shop in McLean VA, our junior year of high school. Despite the enthusiasm we had for our dream, inconnu lay dormant for a few years until this past summer’s epiphanic moment. We realized that we could create an inspired magazine that people would actually want to read without a big budget. We have an amazing team of contributors on this issue who got behind us without the slightest notion of getting paid for their work. We’re not going to sit here and try to tell you exactly what inconnu is and exactly what you can expect, because that would be boring! Our hope is that it will be a magazine that evolves as we do. But we can tell you what we’re inspired by: Ghost World, Jean-Michel Jarre and really soft cheese. We find inspiration for inconnu everywhere, especially while getting lost on one of our many wild goose chases. Whether we’re trying to find a tiny Provencal restaurant in Paris or an off the beaten path movie theater in the rain, we can always find inconnu because it’s a state of mind. Our articles are meant to start a train of thought, spark creativity or even create a discussion, not to provide answers. We’re not going to try to tell you how to dress, what music to listen to, or how to behave in order to attract the opposite sex (as if we knew how to anyway!). We would love for you to participate in the conversation; you can send inconnu mail to: In the USinconnu magazine, 310 3rd Ave, #2004 New York, NY 10010

In Canadainconnu magazine, 2636-5 Fairview Cr. Vancouver, BC, V6T 2BN.

We are so happy to have finally completed the hardest part of this whole process, launching our first issue. We hope you enjoy it as much as we do. xoxo, Kellie and Joanna





joanna harkins editor-in-chief co-founder

kellie hogan creative director co-founder

taylor brogan chief contributing editor

contributors: jackson krule-

claudia chmarzewski-

Street photographer behind Unrepresented model in “sweet our “sweet jane“ spread and jane“, NYU studet, YSL intern, student at Tisch school of the and friend of inconnu. Arts.

scott alderman-

A DC-based chef who has also worked as a restauant consultant. Scott sat down with us for the interview “Simple.“

marielle grenade-willis, kate dolan, mike kerr, janice guzon, nina kiridzija, nicole lipitz, jennifer mawyer, greg donnelly, danean neill, diana lupieri, emma gauthier, katie locke, asako mikumo, tess kramer, stephanie devonshire, josephine raccuia, nicole devonshire, brett trainor, daniel stettner, cherry hang, desi rekrut, tetradugenica, hooking up, chestpiece

contents 6 - “what’s my age again?“ by kellie hogan 7 - “song memory: ceremony” by taylor brogan 8 - live tweeting with soon yi & others 9 - feature: “odd shaped candle of the month” 10 - “the disciplined sport of people watching“ by joanna harkins 12 - “under your skine“ by emma gauthier 16 - art features: katie locke and tess kramer 17 - “thad mccotter“ by taylor brogan 18 - what to keep a look out for: fall 19 - “mad hard vibing on the west coast” 22 - a playlist for people who hate where they live 23 - movies 24 - fiction 26 - “sonic exploration” by mike kerr 27 - “lazy hazy crazy days of summer” 34 - fashion 38 - “guessing games“ by danean neill 40 - “sweet jane” with jackson krule 52 - “simple” an interview with chef scott alderman 55 - horoscopes 57- feature: coloring book questionaire





W H AT’S MY AGE AGA IN? Kellie Hogan “How old would you be, if you didn’t know how old you are?” For as long as I can remember I have felt young for my age. At 19 years old, I still DJ my mental breakdowns to Avril Lavigne’s Let Go. In grade 10, my friend Julie* and I used to skip gym class to get a double-feature lunch period. We would pick up McFlurries and race back to my house to watch the new Hannah Montana episode. The following day, when we had to explain our absences to Mr. Boss (yes that really was his name), we always said that we were at the Orthodontist. When we fl ashed him our big, metal-fi lled smiles, everything would be okay. Now I am well into my second year of University, boyfriend-less and still often mistaken for a high-schooler by the ladies at the Lancôme counter in Holt Renfrew. But I recently realized that it takes a certain level of maturity to learn not to take yourself too seriously: I have plenty of lofty crushes on enigmatic men I see in the park, draw cartoons on sticky notes and only read the movie showtimes in the newspaper. However, I don’t believe that any of these things has the slightest bearing on how old I am. Lately, I have been very interested in this idea of an experiential age. The idea that our age comes with our experiences and where we stand according to society’s age roles. It’s hard for me, being both young at heart and an old soul, in a world where people prize growing up fast and then never aging. North American culture says girls should be dating, wearing makeup and taking interest in fashion and other grown-up activities by no later than middle school. Meanwhile celebrity culture says that as soon as you get a few crows feet and a sliver of grey, it’s time to start trying to turn back the clock. Being young for your age depicts you as a free spirited fairy, a cute pixie, a dreamy idealist, and in many circles, naive and immature. It has taken me roughly the past 19 years to comfortably meld my intellect and interest in side-walk chalk. To fi nd that happy fusion of my fi xation with Hello Kitty paraphernalia, my interest in social justice and my frequenting of Edward Albee plays. Next time you your dad tells you that you’re too old to watch iCarly or play dress-up, think of what i’m telling you. In high school I dressed up for Halloween as a teenage mutant ninja turtle, a princess, a kindergartener, and a mermaid. I will personally allow you to think of me as your mentor of immaturity, your giggle-guide, your guardian grade schooler. Whether you’re 16 or 26, like what you like because you like it – that’s one of the goals I have for inconnu; develop a non-ageist set of cultural and social topics that we can discuss. I challenge all hipsters to go roller-blading with their grandparents and enjoy it. Maybe each issue I can have a special hipster challenge; it’ll be like, “hey you! you think you’re too cool for chocolate milk and crazy straws?” Okay, I don’t know. The point is, if I can go watch a little kids cheerleading competition with my friend and leave with stitches in my side and tears in my eyes from laughing too hard, so can you! So stop acting your age, quit growing up, and think about poor Tom Hanks in the movie ‘Big’. * Name has been changed to protect permanent record

song memories

song memories


seven by taylor brogan

When I found out that I would be taking the bus home from school I was overjoyed. This was,

in my eyes my fi rst “real life” experience, and it arrived halfway through my freshman year of high school. I could not have been more thrilled to participate in such a mundane and quintessentially American “public school” activity. As the product of over nine years of Catholic schooling, of plaid jumpers, of religion classes, and of carpooling to and from school, I didn’t even mind the rush to my locker after class in order to catch the bus—I welcomed it as a challenge, a moderately annoying setback. My childhood best friend and I rode the bus together. We lived miles away from school, and the bus rides lasted for more than an hour. Sometimes I’d pass the time by propping a textbook up on my knees and getting a large chunk of my homework out of the way. Some days I would fold my arms across my chest, bow my head and nap the whole way home, or I would sit across from my friend and laugh to the point of tears. It’s easy to idealize anything, but I remember that even then, as it was happening, I was nostalgic for those bus rides home. It was like I was already aware of how much I would miss it, so I tried hard not to take those days for granted. One afternoon late in spring, it was pretty hot out, and all the windows on the bus had been pushed down. I stretched out with my back pressed fl at along the seat and pulled my mp3 player out of my backpack. We drove down winding suburban lanes, past rows of trees, the leaves and branches making patterns on the ceiling as the sunlight streamed in. I swirled my fi nger thoughtlessly around in circles until I fi nally selected an artist. It was New Order, and the only song of theirs I even had in my collection was “Ceremony” from the Marie Antoinette soundtrack. I shut my eyes and let the opening base line dissolve the rest of the world into a blurry, sunlit impressionist painting. The muted bum bu-bu-bum bu-bum followed by the gradual build-up of instrumentation—I memorized every strum and drum beat. I clutched tightly to my mp3 (still iPod-less) and I nodded my head, twitched my feet, and smashed on my air-guitar in time with the music. God, if you asked me to perform the whole song a capella by myself, I’m sure I could.

I still consider “Ceremony” my favorite song of all

time. “The New Order version,” I’ll say, and the music-snobs will wince and say, “But that’s a Joy Division song.” “Yeah, well I like the New Order version better.” “But....but, Joy Division!” My critics say it like Joy Division were this ineffable, genius band—the end-all-be-all of new wave and the saviors of mankind. I love Joy Division, sure, and I’ll dance to ‘em on occasion, but the wonderful thing about music is that it exists both in and outside of itself. Be it Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” or Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” each and every song means something different to everyone who hears it. There are no good songs or bad songs; there are only songs that mean something to you and songs that don’t—genres that appeal to you and genres that don’t. So what if I like the New Order version more? I heard it fi rst. In my mind, “Ceremony” is a New Order song, and it brings me back to that moment when I laid down on a bus seat on a spring afternoon and realized that I had the rest of my life ahead of me. It’s the best song I’ve ever heard.

a little birdy told me a little birdy told me



this whole page is just an excuse for us to talk about our #official #spirit #animal, soon-yi previn OK, So despite her twitter handle being “realsoonyi”, it has not been verified that this twitter actually belongs to soon-yi previn (aka woody allen’s current wife), but frankly, we don’t care. Just read a few of her glorious tweets and you will not be disappointed. If this really is her, she sure is extremely self-aware and knows how to joke about herself, I mean, she referrs to woody allen as “dad husband”...

honorable mentions

thank you jonah hill. i repeat this joke to everyone i meet. #proverbs

amanda bynes delivers wisdom.

inconnu staff

thatta girl. ladies and gentlemen, our editor in chief.

our chief contributing editor is a must follow. she tweets humor and intellect and helpful advice for writing yelp reviews.

i think this was my best tweet. #inconnucreativedirector

follow us @inconnumag

By Taylor Brogan

odd-shaped candle of the month

puerta rica de medici


This month’s oddshaped candle comes from PeaceBlossom Candles in Oregon. While it is meant to depict the Venus of Willendorf, we’ve made up our own story behind this mysterious figure.

While many associate Easter Island with the kind of large, mysterious statues that Squidward found home-worthy, the island itself has a quite complex colonial and political history. During the Italian Renaissance, a Dutch painter named Vilhelm van Coch impregnated a young woman from Florence by the name of Puerta Rica de Medici. Puerta was voluptuous by Florentine standards; the schoolchildren whispered stories about her in their schoolyards, often referring to her as mucca signora or the Cow Lady. As soon as the morning sickness took hold of Puerta, Vilhelm, terrified of the impending wrath of the Medici family, fled for Amsterdam, leaving Puerta to care for their bastard child on her own. Her natural largeness helped conceal her situation, though her father Dominico had his suspicions. Midway through her second trimester, Puerta boarded a cargo ship bound for Easter Island, which would be her final resting place. Four months later, Puerta, having fallen in love with a Spanish colonizer named Marco Magellan, gave birth to a healthy Dutch-Italian baby boy. She named him Ferdinand, a Spanish name, in the hopes that the boy would not be treated as a bastard. Puerta and Marco never married, though they told the other settlers that they had tied the knot years ago. Puerta never lost the baby weight, and the Island climate was at times oppressively hot. She was often seen wandering naked along the shore, wearing nothing but the beaded hat her father had given her--the only reminder of her life back in Florence.


The Disciplined Sport of People Watching


By Joanna Harkins Illustrations by Diana Lupieri

I told myself that I came here to work. I also told myself that the “white noise” of peoples’ conversations all meshing together would help me concentrate. I always come to this diner in an attempt to get some reading done while eating lunch, but I always end up reading the people at surrounding tables instead. The first time it was the group of strapping young police academy guysdiscussing different types of robbery while eating salads (they’re trying to keep their weight down, you know). Next it was the two old ladies from Long Island who were, rather loudly, complaining that their order was wrong. And today, it’s the 40-something American guy giving a 20-something Brazilian photographer a pep-talk and apartment-hunting advice. It’s amazing how much you can find out about someone by just watching them, right? Maybe its just because I grew up with my dad teaching me about body language and “group dynamics” but people watching is about the only sport I’ve ever been good at. “Look at that circle of people over there” he would say, “that’s the guy you need to win-over in order to gain approval of the group” or “you can tell by the way that guy’s standing that he likes that girl next to him.” Psych anyone? While people watching may not fit the traditional definition of a sport, I maintain that its a sport of sorts because it takes a certain amount of skill to do



properly and because there is a wrong way to do it. People might start getting freaked out if you just stare at themyou’re not trying to be creepy, you’re just trying to learn something from the way people interact and react. I love trying to imagine peoples’ daily lives based on what I can observe for a brief amount of time. Based on the information I can gather from their clothes, hair, jewelry, conversations, the book they’re reading, do I think they’re single or in a relationship? What do they do for a living? What are they thinking about? Why does that guy look nervous? Maybe he’s waiting for his date. That girl does not look comfortable in those shoes. But now I’m going to lay down a few ground rules, I think it’s about time someone did. One: No talking to the people you’re observing. You’re no longer just studying them from afar, you’re interacting- that’s cheating and you just lost the game. Two: Try to be discrete. Bring a book- the less people notice you, the more you can watch them. Minus five points for letting someone hear your conversation. Three: People watching is first and foremost an individual sport. You have to master it on your own before it becomes a team sport. It’s natural to want to observe other people, whether you’re learning something from them or not. No longer do we have to observe people in a diner (Hot Jew with jaw eats, chews and leaves me breathless.) we now have facebook, twitter, tumblr and sites like These are all different forms of people watching. Technology is just the perfect outlet for our curiosity. The disciplined sport of people watching is an equalizer, it doesnt care how much money you make or who your friends are. Celebrities that have their lives diplayed on the front page become one of us; yes they lead exciting lives filled with sex, drugs and rock n’ roll- but in the end, they’re just like usPeople are people.


under your skine Poignancy-lovers rejoice; as the second decase of the 21st century marks a return to the staple styles of the mid-19th, creative documentation follows suit. The recent resurgence of the molekine welcomes home the tradition of Picasso, Wilde, Hemingway and Van Gogh; stray thoughts become ink, not lights on a screen & visions fi t squarely behind leather bound seams. written and illustrated by Emma Gauthier


above, music lined paper is a happy through-between for writers and illustrators alike; below, portraits are an effective tool in achieving contained self-actualization.



oleskine journal is unique, in that it leaves direction entirely in the hands

of it’s holder. There are editions produced with various patterns of black lines (or lack thereof) meant to cater to the scribblings of the composers, the authors, and doodlers but the rules quite literally end there.

no dates, no numbers, no fl owers in the margins; the

responsibility is yours from the fi rst page.

it’s theraputic: a free-for-all journal is an excellent outlet - a one stop art gallery, library,diary, all of which fi t neatly behind two leather bounds.


the real beauty of a journal lies not in how well it’s written or how beautiful it appears. the thing that makes a journal really lovely is the fact that it’s simplicity makes a greater vessel than any fl agship ever could be. an object that can hold and preserve the ideas that mull and tumble in a thoughtful mind is one that should be used often, and without hesitation or reservation. tl;dr: don’t hold it in; fi ll a blank page and stake your claim!


Kathryn Locke: artist and stu-

Studies on structure (left to right): “Manifested Structure”, “Bed Process”, and “Structure”.


art features

dent at Moore College of Art and Design in Philidelphia,“The structures are not about the optical reality of their existence in space, but rather an external manifestation of emotions associated with shelter. I paint with the meaning of home in mind as a sacred hiding place to safely indulge in disgrace and pleasure. I seek to understand the relation between ourselves to structures, outside and inside, what is called to focus and what is not.”

Tess Kramer

: artist and NYU fi lm production student, “New York is great in black and white. Everything is moving all the time. Even the buildings are alive. The shadows are remnants of those movements.”

(left to right): “Wall Street” (1), “Balconies”, and “Wall Street” (2).

What To Keep A Look Out For-Fall

by Joanna Harkins

1. MUD Coffee: In a city like New York where there’s a coffee shop around every corner, it’s hard to actually find good coffee that’s worth your money. They have a storefront at 307 east 9th street that also serves soup, sandwiches and salads and has live music. You can find the MUD truck where I get my coffee every morning at Astor Place, right outside the subway. 2. Lullaby: While this movie was released in France and Canada in December of 2010, it hasn’t gained the acclaim it deserves in the US yet. I was lucky enough to meet the director, Benoît Philippon, at a screening of the film in Paris and learned all about how the casting of Forest Whitaker fulfilled a cinematic dream for Philippon. With Clémence Poésy and Rupert Friend as the lead roles, the film follows the romance of a down on his luck musician and an artist named Pi. 3. Rookie: Brainchild of blogger Tavi Gevinson and inspired by the now defunct Sassy magazine from the 90’s, Rookie is an online magazine aimed at teenage girls. With articles like “Aubrey Plaza: Phantom Raider” and “Literally the Best Thing Ever: Famous Goth Kids” it’s so much more than fashion. Drawing heavily on 90’s culture and with a different theme each month, this is the magazine I wish I would have had in high school. 4. New Girl: Who doesn’t love Zooey Deschanel? The ultimate manic-pixie-dream-girl has finally made it to a major network. In New Girl Zooey plays an “adorkable” schoolteacher who, after a breakup, moves in with three guys she met on the internet. It reminds me of a sillier hybrid of Friends and 500 Days of Summer: a classic sitcom about 20-somethings making their way in a big city all the while retaining Zooey’s indie charm. I already have my money on Nick as the one she ends up with. 5. Fashion Trend- Birds: Birds may be an overly-obvious symbol of the coming of spring, but several designers featured birds in some form or another in their Spring 2012 collections. Marc by Marc Jacobs had small abstract pink and blue birds, Kenzo had parrots, and Carolina Herrera had sparrows. What i’m most interested in by this trend is the way it ends up trickling down from runway to the department stores and the larger “fashion-consciousness”.





drawings by diana lupieri



songs for people who hate where they live ra ra riot ~ massachusetts simon joyner ~ only living boy in omaha beach fossils ~ vacation andrew jackson jihad ~ this is why i’m hot casiotone for the painfully alone ~ seattle, wa the smiths ~ there is a light that never goes out the wooden sky ~ when we were young beirut ~ east harlem born ruffians ~ i need a life this is ivy league ~ the richest kids in town simon & garfunkel ~ only living boy in new york

get more of greg’s musical recommendations at listen to this and other playlists at


A Portrait of the Artist as an Old Man


Woody, Woody, Woody. There is no one else quite like you. From Annie Hall, to Bananas, to Sweet and Lowdown, you have always created a hilarious, sarcastic and sweet pictures of human existance. Once I discovered your work, I became a submissive creature, worshipping your painful pessimism and high-brow philosophical references with blind admiration. In the old days, you chased after girls who were out of your league, but who were insecure enough to fi nd your anxiety endearing. Now, as a 75 year old auteur, your fi lms have become happier, more optimistic, and starring more handsome men in the high-strung role that you once played. Like Benjamin Button, you’re aging backwards; becoming slowly more dynamic, more extraverted, and unfortunatley, less interesting. Midnight in Paris was beautiful and funny, but it lacked some kind of key Woody Allen feature. Since the ‘80’s, your fi lms have been (for the most part) lackluster. They all seem to be missing the essential reason why your comedy works so well: that it’s a mechanism of coping with your fears and anxieties about love and death. Death isn’t nearly as scary when you joke about it in every movie from 1970 to 2011, is it? For our sake, at least the casting is still strong. The magic still does exist, but I for one just wish your new fi lms had a little more of the misery and worry of the old stuff, because along with those neuroses, came the best jokes of all. - Kellie Hogan Starring owen wilson, rachel mcadams, marion cotillard, alison pill, kathy bates, adrien brody, tom hiddleston, kurt fuller, mimi kennedy, and carla bruni.

Midnight in Paris

As classic Woody Allen fi lm credits begin rolling, let scenes of the picture perfect Paris transport you out of your arid theatre seat and into its charming abyss. Allen’s newest fi lm follows Gil (Wilson), a 21st century writer with a 20th century soul, who is fascinated by the Lost Generation and dazzled by Paris’ allure. When he and his domineering fi ancé Inez (McAdams) accompany her conservative parents on a business trip to Paris, the hopelessly romantic Gil who is struggling to fi nish his fi rst novel can think of nothing better than leaving his successful screenwriting career in LA and, much to Inez’s dismay, permanently moving to the city of light. An already rocky engagement becomes worse when Gil, in addition to escaping outings with Inez’s pretentious acquaintances, begins taking midnight walks through Paris’ cobblestone roads and fi nds himself in the era he has always dreamed of and in the company of his greatest literary heroes. But is escaping the present for the tempting past really the solution to his pre-marriage crisis? Though no deeper than a two inch puddle, viewers will lose themselves in grandoise scenery, stellar performances, enigmatic characters, and a magically nostalgic storyline, making Midnight in Paris an effortlessly chic getaway. - Nina Kiridzija



In the Philippines, a certain fl ower grows in the graveyards. The fl ower’s beauty is striking but solemn, so we call these fl owers makahiyas, or “the shy ones,” in Filipino. Age four and my family would take me to Philippine cemeteries to celebrate our histories, and we redefi ned the “extended” in extended family. We’d come like tribes, no, like bees to hives, and we gathered over bought bouquets that died with the dead and buried, and stuck sticky to syrupy sweet memories plastered to honeycombed tombstones. But the makahiyas, they stood on their own and with the tutu petals peeled away the gravegrounds while the rays, they— they gave witness to the resilience, testament to the imminence of virgin debuts to a horizon that would kiss awake buds with the dew of a new morning. And us children, we were excited to accept the invitations of open faces that seemed to grin not in amusement but for our amusement. When we touched their pinks these poor fl owers would shrivel up and not awake again to fl ourish until the next morning.


by Janice Guzon

My mother used to say, “Leave the makahiyas alone, Janice” and this would prompt my childish “mommy, whys”; why do they fold in a rush, just from a brush and the mere touch of a child’s fi nger?” Then my mother would point to their timidity to hold accountability for their retreat. As I grew older, I came to conclude that these fl owers might dance their bashful ballet away from our fi ngers not because they were afraid and I was amazed to discover that these fl owers were saying, crying, proclaiming, that they answered to no one but the new day— not to children’s fi ngers, not to the graves, not to the wind, and not to the rain. And I thought, in homage to these fl owers that outstretch their arms in effort to walk the line at which the heavens and the fi elds do the pas de deux, that the makahiyas should have been called the malalakas, or the strong ones in Filipino.

Post It’s World Tour by Kellie Hogan McGill walked through her tiny kitchen into her tiny living room and sat down with yogurt and carrots. She sat on her cerulean futon for several minutes stirring the thick yogurt with a carrot stick. It is commendable that she was able to sit for so long without really thinking about anything or paying any attention at all to any external stimulants. You try that! The shadows of books and bric-a-brac on McGill’s legs began to shift up closer to her groin and she knew by her medieval mind that it was now dusk. So she popped James and the Giant Peach (1996) into the DVD player and ate her yogurt well into the night.

twenty-five ‘post it’s world tour’ Around 2:30am McGill’s live-in nanny, Pistol, came home wearing a New York Knicks hat and an orange parka that made him look like an oil refi ner, she thought. McGill was half-awake; enough to make observations but not enough to speak her thoughts aloud. Pistol touched McGill’s left hand gently and placed it into his right hand. With his left hand he lifted his Knicks hat by the brim and shook out his hair, making sure it reached its full fl uff potential. Pistol placed his Knicks hat back onto his head. He tugged McGill by the arm, lifting her up off the futon. She, now standing up quite close to his face, blinked very slowly and smiled lazily, implying sleepiness. Pistol sat down on the fl oor and opened his laptop, a blue glow pouring onto his unshaven, masculine face. Pistol and McGill lay down side-by-side on their stomachs, naming African countries on Sporcle. “Sporcle is so darling”, McGill said in her slow, sweet, southern drawl. After the 10 minutes are up, they have successfully named all of the countries except for two: Gabon and Burundi. “Ugh, Gabon and Burundi! Those are hardly real!” McGill complained. “Hehe, those are hardly real…” Pistol repeated under his breath. She had only been kidding, he knew, they had that understanding. They both agreed that knowing the names of all the countries of the world makes hearing news stories of famine and war in those faraway lands seem more real. McGill got up and walked into the tiny kitchen where she bumped her elbows against the walls as she brewed a pot of tea. While she waited for her tea to boil, she stood vacantly humming Roxanne by The Police and Pistol mindlessly refreshed his Gmail three times. They relocated to the cerulean futon for improved comfort. Pistol winked at McGill in the knowing way that he did. She kissed his lips for a millisecond and then let her body fall back into the pillows with her jasmine tea pulled up to her mouth. She whispered into her teacup, calmly urging the hot liquid to cool down to a safer temperature. “I think it would be really neat if some guy named Eddy called you and offered you this job for like, Post-it notes. Say like the job was that you just had to tour around the world, to like Russia and Mexico; to China, Djibouti, Senegal, Cyprus and Chile. Anyway, this guy, what did I call him-“, Pistol stopped to think. “- Eddy”, McGill contributed. “Oh thanks. Yeah, so Eddy offers you a job to tour the world just drawing your really cute pictures on sticky notes and writing silly, funny, random captions like you do. And, you just hand them out to like kids and tweens and stuff, and of course to old people, too. And moms-on-the-go and cool dads and uncool dads.” Pistol broke off to breathe and also to check McGill’s face for any signs of amusement. She showed none. “Would I be given pastels to use?” McGill asked. “Would you turn down the job with Post-it’s World Tour if they didn’t give you pastels to use?” Pistol joked. McGill giggled and looked down into her tea, shrugging her shoulders. “Would it all be live streamed onto YouTube?” McGill asked. “Sure,” Pistol kissed her nose and then burped, “Sorry,” He said. McGill thought to herself that he was very Canadian. She fell asleep with her head in his lap, smiling. When she awoke she was sure that she had dreamed fi ve consecutive dreams of stirring yogurt with different objects including a pirate’s wooden leg and a croquet mallet.



music technology technology improved through the 90s the qualSonic Exploration:A look ity of CDs got better and as digital recording at music technology and the equipment made its way into more studios it way we listen to music was easier to release the music in digital form today. By Mike Kerr rather than analog. The digital audio format of an MP3, is I love music. I love every corner of its ex- doing pretty much the same thing that early pansive universe, and I love to peruse through CDs were doing, compressing the audio file eternal libraries of song and tune and romp. A down to fit in a smaller space. With the rise of very large and ever-growing part of this uniMP3 players and the introduction of the iPod, verse is that involving the digital age we all live in. Music has never been the same as it is today; where portability was key, the public was fed more files in a smaller space. Standard MP3 from the creation of music to the distribution files come in either 320 kbps (kilobytes per and accessibility for the public audience, music second) or 128 kbps. These numbers refer to is done differently nowadays. As a deep lover of music I have to ask- are we getting all we can the speed or bitrate at which the audio files were converted. At a higher speed of 320 kbps, get? Is our enjoyment of music being held back a cleaner, crisper audio file is rendered. At the by this digital age? What is there to say about bitrate of 128 kbps, your music is basically losthe quality of recorded music in 2011? ing some of its livelihood. These differences There are tons of variables that go into may not be too obvious and for all intents and how much of your music you’re listening to. If purposes we’ve accepted them and load thouyou’re listening through the built in speakers sands of lower-bitrate songs onto our iPods of the new “uni-body” Macbook Pro, you’re not because that’s just the easiest way to do it. Also, getting any bass from your music because the if you never hear a pure uncompressed audio speakers within the metal frame have nothing file you’ll never know the difference anyway; but to bounce off, just flat, solid metal. However, if when I found out about the damage mp3s can your head is in between Dr Dre’s “Beats” headdo to your music I felt cheated and went looking phones, the bass coming through is boosted by for a better way to listen to music. drivers within the speakers, and can distort or How can you achieve a listening experidestroy the music you’re listening to. But what ence in higher quality? I can’t really tell you, it’s if the bigger issue came from long before you plugged in your headphones? The digital format up to you to upload your cds at 320 instead of 128, or if you’re online, buying or finding AIF at the very base of your music might be what is (audio interchange file) versions or FLAC (free keeping you apart from total sonic euphoria. lossless audio codec) versions of your favourite A standard digital audio format was not introduced to the populous of music lovers until recordings so you’re not subjecting yourself to lower bitrate and distortion. There is a free the early 90s, before which music was taken in program for PC and Mac called Audacity which from analog sources. An analog source would allows conversion of any audio format to any be something not involving digital signals like those of a computer; vinyl records are an analog other audio format. It also records and has a slew of effects to apply to your music. form of audio. These suggestions of course only really When CDs were released as the replacehelp those audiophiles that care deeply about ment to vinyl records and cassette tapes, many the music they listen to. You can settle for less, artists refused to have their music released on and half the time never know the difference, CDs, because of the lower quality. To get the but if you’re ready to take the plunge into total audio data from the analog recording on to geek-out euphoric sonic exploration, get yourthe digital format of a CD, the audio had to be self some higher quality recordings and you’ll compressed, and in early CDs songs sounded be thanking your ears and mind later. Oh, and muffled or had sounds completely missing. As get a good set of speakers.


lazy-hazy-crazy days of summer take a trip through grassy fields and floral pools: squint your eyes under the bright august sun: wear spf, drink lots of water, and don’t say we didn’t warn you.

Photographed by Kellie Hogan Modeled by Marielle Grenade-Willis (above) and Kate Dolan Styled by Joanna Harkins and Kellie Hogan







Fashion’s Last Night Out? By Josephine Raccuia

Those of you itching to read a positive article on Fashion’s Night Out, look elsewhere. On the evening of September 5th, inconnu editor-in-chief, Joanna Harkins, and I attended Fashion’s Night Out. It was a first for both of us despite the fact that I’m a native Manhattanite and have willingly managed to avoid two years of Fashion’s Night Out’s. Why? A few reasons: Firstly, because it annoys New Yorkers, secondly, because Fashion’s Night Out causes nothing but distress and turmoil for the hardworking salespeople involved, and lastly, because the concept of the event has become completely convoluted. Now, it might be fabulous to say that you attended an invite-only party at the Louboutin boutique in the Meatpacking District only to see Jerseylicious’ Tracy DiMarco. It might be neat to have the memento of you and a friend standing on each side of Elle Fanning at the Marc by Marc Jacobs store on Bleecker Street. However, your joy will be completely incongruous with the Manhattanites who will have to risk sleep that night due to drunken Fashion’s Night Out strays roaming quiet neighborhoods because they can’t remember where they parked their car. Moreover, in addition to said strays being drunk, do you think that they attended the event to spend money or binge on the free booze? In other words, Fashion’s Night Out has become a free-for-all for all attendees: free alcohol, free celebrity spectatorship, and free perks, even though the perks that are supposed to be free really come at a price. The original concept of Fashion’s Night Out – in addition to producing inebriated mobs – has gone astray. For those of you unfamiliar with the point of the event, Fashion’s Night Out was originally created by Vogue editor-in-chief

Anna Wintour to promote shopping in order to aid our suffering economy. Since its inception in 2009, the event went global – for the most part– this year including cities such as London and Tokyo. Nevertheless, since I am unaware of people’s conduct this year in the other cities, the event in Manhattan has turned into a madhouse NYU students Grace Dunn and does a very and Gabriella Gjonaj with poor job of Elle Fanning at Marc Jacobs. promoting the buying aspect. Moreover, the creators of the event did an even poorer job of spreading the word that part of the proceeds made would go to the The Foundation for AIDS Research. This might have been helpful to know because sometimes people feel an incentive to shop when they know they are giving back to those who cannot help themselves- as opposed to fixing the problem that the currently not-sopopular scions on Wall Street created. Nevertheless, while I – and I’m sure at least a handful of other Manhattanites and New York salespeople – could continue writing down the ten commandments of reforming Fashion’s Night Out, some say this year may be its last.



NEW YORK FASHION NO MATTER WHAT YOUR ZIP CODE By Jenn Mawyer (All photos on this page taken from

Whether based in the Big Apple or the outskirts of small-town suburbia, “it” trends still apply and it’s your job to flaunt them without mercy- but in your own way. Here’s how you do it. With origins in Richmond, Virginia, where hardcore heads and indie rock hipsters comprise the street-style fashion scene of the distinctly-cultured city, I was exposed to experimental fashions at an early age. It goes without saying that my Urban Outfitters army green cargo jacket, local band tees, and scuffed, worn, and weathered leather combat boots are long-standing and highly prized possessions of my wardrobe. However, after living in Richmond for ten years, I came to find that my city’s trends were more static than evolutionary as the fast-pace progression of a fashion capital exemplifies. My style-seeking self had quickly become claustrophobic in my hometown and thirsting for a contemporary muse

or modern inspiration. This September’s back-to-school season brought its annual incentive or reinvention, but I figured that fall entailed little updating for me and my closet as the greater population of Richmond would demonstrate. I am an active mag whore and blogger stalker in the fashion world, but the trends I read about and mulled over from places like Milan and Paris seemed beyond my reality considering my current circumstances. Never in a million years did I think I could show up to a friday night RVA house show in a polished Rebecca Taylor ribbon trim blazer and flashy Jeffrey Campbell Litas without stares of confusion. Those just aren’t the prevailing trends in the area, and for that, I felt Richmond was stealing my style. The streets of NYC are littered with designer products on the feet of its natives and the belittlement “everyday isn’t



York City, I suddenly felt newfound excitement for the upcoming fall season which encouraged my enlightened train of thought: If I am passionate enough to follow the current runway trends, yet still sentimental to the Richmond ways, I need to find some sort of grunge-meetsluxe balance. I told myself to go home and push my fear of acceptance aside, parading in what represents me, not my environment. The places in which we grow and learn undoubtedly shape us, but do not define us. To all of you fashionistas stuck spending your Saturday mornings with the usual venti coffee blend and your three bestgirlfriends, Marie Claire, Vogue, and Elle, allow me to remind you that fashion is a naturally disseminating force, so take those key trends and make them your own, because there is an intermediary at your fingertips. You just have to find it, but that’s the easy part. You strive to incorporate those anticipated runway trends into your daily outfit. Do your research and show your knowledgeability. Your own, authentic sense of style and self will both illuminate themselves in the process. Personally, my game plan in Richmond this fall is to pair these high fashion pieces with my grunge staples in order to channel a sophisticated and chic uptown polish, with a casual downtown edge. So far, my closet is looking like fur vests with an oversized white tee and black skinnies, long duster coats with combat boots, a more casual and affordable wool knit cardigan to wear over a button-up oxford, and it’s still growing. Author Jenn Mawyer on the left with friends in Those are aspects of my fall wardrobe, New York City. however your closet may hold radically

a fashion show” simply doesn’t apply. Fashion proves inherent in the glamorous culture of the Big Apple, and luckily September not only introduced a new season, but held a spontaneous trip to the star-studded city in store for me. A few friends and I visited New York in the midst of its prime, the weekend of NYC Couture Fashion Week directly following Mercedez-Benz fashion week, so needless to say the street fashions were at their finest. And when I wasn’t catching cabs, roaming the streets, and visiting friends I was studiously taking notes on the items of clothing that could prove essential to my personal style. The fashions there seem so radically different than those of Richmond, it was overwhelmingly inspirational. Most of the trends that I noted emulated the femininity of the ‘40s and all things ladylike. We’re talking big, statement floral and prints, heritage cashmere knits, long duster coats, and refined furs-pieces foreign to Richmond’s rugged tomgirl fashion. Thanks to New


different shapes, sizes, and colors-yet equally as trendy. We must never forget that fashion is first a form of self-expression, so evaluate yourself and your background as you step into the new season with a whole new look. Rock your roots. Be

Runway- Carolina Herrera Spring 2012

By Josephine Raccuia


original. Take risks with your wardrobe while always representing who you are and where you’ve come from. After all, no matter where life takes me or what in direction the fashion industry veers next, I know that I’m still, and always will be, Jenny from the RVA block. Represent.

While this past Spring 2012 season presented us with funky prints by Alexander Wang, eternally fresh silhouettes by Marc Jacobs, and always puttogether pieces by Zac Posen, there never seems to be anything as fetching as watching the always groundbreaking pieces by Carolina Herrera glide up and down the runway. With a keen talent for drawing an audience between the ages of 17 and 95 (and Nicki Minaj, whose outfit, I would like to point out, was not designed by Ms.Herrera) Herrera managed to maintain the look of Upper East Side chic, while still having a dalliance with the younger set. Nevertheless, this spring collection was unique this season in that it featured a mix of patterns, solids, and prints in a myriad of colors. Beginning with springy florals, the models walked down the runway – one trailing in a long, cap-sleeved gown glittered with green birds – to variations of “Pagnini Rocks” by Tom Hodge and Robortom – while another strolled down the runway in a youthful yellow dress accessorized with sunglasses and a matching yellow tote. Also featured was a white no-sleeved cocktail dress with black color-blocking held together with a geometric red belt. The collection was indeed multifarious, perhaps to a fault according to, however the collection itself maintained a sense of fluidity simply because it was presented by Carolina Herrera. Had it been by any other designer, the collection would likely not have worked.


On July 23rd, 2011, a Norwegian man dressed as a police officer killed an astonishing amount of youth at a Labour by Danean Neill Party youth camp on Utoya Island, as well as many more in a bomb blast in Tragedies are not uncommon in central Oslo, Norway. These attacks lead human life. Injuries are a daily occurto 76 deaths as well as a great amount rence, accidents are commonplace, and of damage, and stirred fear into the nadeath occurs around the world, almost tion. I will not divulge the name of the every minute. However, with all of these terrorist in this article, as I feel that by tragedies simultaneously coexisting as spreading his name by any means brings they have for centuries, why is it that the more attention to the terrorist in quesworld is suddenly more aware of these tion, than the event itself. The event was tragedies? Everyone knows where I’m highly covered by all the major news going with this- as this is not an original corporations. I myself watched from the question or idea. The media has overcomfort of my sofa, netbook in lap, as taken our world by shovelling images the BBC built upon the story from every of horror and death into our minds and angle through almost every avenue posliving rooms, with the types of stories we sible. may only personally witness few times in It was a bit like an action/detective our lives. The news is dominated by sto- film that I couldn’t tear my eyes away ries of murder, deceit, psychos and real- from. However, I noted throughout the ly, a lot of things that would make a sane program that there were a lot of concluindividual want to stay inside (yet, it still sions being made very early on during seems to be the insane ones who actually the coverage. Some of these deductions do). The media has been known to have were not necessarily those of the BBC, a tendency to blow things out of propor- but they were being treated as almost tion; attempting to delve deeper in to a factual information for the time being. shallow story, or even inventing ‘facts’ And, since these assumptions were being to stir the imaginations of viewers. It is broadcast by the BBC- many people beno wonder then, that on July 23, 2011, lieved them to be true. But this was not that the appalling outbreak of terror un- the case. leashed upon Norway was so incredibly The fact is that there were no facts. fabricated by the media and journalists Yes, it was a terrorist attack; therefore around the globe. It seems that in search people (including the media) were pretty of an answer, they unwittingly (or, quite terrified and looking for some answers knowingly) laid immediate blame on to help soothe their frightened minds. uninvolved parties, and scared the world However, ‘guessing’ is not ‘speculating.’ into believing this attack had been more One can simply guess the amount of jelsuccessful than it really had been- which lybeans in a jar, but one can speculate was exactly what the terrorist in question based on the size of the jellybean and had hoped for. the amount the jar can hold, and real-

Guessing Games

guessing games

istically estimate how many beans are in the jar. So when it came to the death toll numbers, the amount of guessing far outweighed the amount of speculatingleaving some internet trails misleading researchers to believing the death toll was far above what it truly was. By the end of the whole ordeal, the death toll had skyrocketed and fallen until someone finally counted the dead to confirm how many had actually died. This left the world believing that this Norwegian terrorist had over-reached his goal- which inevitably, he did. He scared the world into believing that more damage had been done (although, the damage that had been done was pretty severe), and sent a mess of panic through the airwaves. One guess lead to another guess, and far too soon after the initial attack, this Norwegian terrorist was almost off the hook. Instead of looking for a real answer, one news corporation assumed it must have been Al-Qaeda that was behind these attacks. From my close watch over the coverage of this attack on many different news channels and websites, it seems that the blame that was laid upon Al-Qaeda was simply a knee-jerk reaction. It seemed like the conversation in the newsrooms was simply: “Oh, terrorist attack? Norway? Gotta be Al-Qaeda… Who else could it be?” The immediate ‘speculation’ of Al-Qaeda left me feeling very insecure about the entire situation. Mostly because, one: if this ‘assumption’ was true, where did this leave the situation in the Middle East? Did it foreshadow a future attack on my nation? And two: had they given up searching for the true culprit, and were now searching


for a supposed one who may or may not have anything to do with the attacks? Nevertheless, when the attacks were finally pinned to the true attacker, who ended up being an Aryan Norwegian with Nazi-influenced intentions and outlooks, the world was outwardly shocked. Some may say that this sudden turning of the tables made for excellent television, and probably a large spike in ratings for the news networks that initially broke the story. However, the journalism at work on this vast and ever expanding story should have involved much less blame, and a lot more firsthand claim. When did journalism become a guessing game? It seems like now instead of facts, the media is more focussed on getting a story before actually telling the truth. But as the terrorist attack on Norway has demonstrated, jumping to conclusions can make for an even greater story- a story for triumph on the part of the terrorist. It’s simple really; the more attention a terrorist receives, the more success they gain in their attack. This guessing game needs to end. Yes, the news must be fed to the world, and everyone has a right to know what is happening as it happens. However, during a mad dash to find a story, journalists need to find the facts- the real ones- and only then should they spread the word. There is no sense is spreading more terror into the lives of those affected by an attack when such atrocities of false knowledge could so easily be avoided.

Sweet Jane Photographed by Jackson Krule





simple. By Joanna Harkins

Chef Scott Alderman has worked in some of America’s hardest-to-reserve restaurants and has a thing or two to say about celebrity chefs. I sat down with him in July to discuss his food philosophy, Marco Pierre White and what you can find in his fridge.

JH: “What is your favorite thing about working in a kitchen?” SA: “The intensity. The stress and adrenaline. It’s what’s carved my face [laughs] its what’s carved me into the person that I am, all the years of stress and cigarettes. Hey- I’m not old yet but in five or six years I’ll probably look a lot worse than this.” JH: “If you were to open your own restaurant

what style food would you it should be done, people serve?” would come from everywhere just to have it, and SA: “I would do the sim- they wouldn’t care about plest food in the world anything else. Anything done perfectly. I would do you do, as long as you do seasonal food, local, farm it right, you’ll be famous. fresh, because, you know My restaurant wouldn’t that’s me supporting the just be seasonal- I’d try to farmers, and seasonal is do themes for seasons, like cheap, that’s cutting the every chef does. Everyfood costs tremendously. body wants to say ‘Ok its It could be something like winter time, lets break out fish and chips but instead the butternut squash soup of using some cheap fish- with honey and ginger, lets I’d use rockfish. If I did break out the chili for lunch’ the fish and chips the way just good, healthy, whole

food- you know, soul food.” side of going to the Cordon Bleu. I think you get more JH: “How did you get in- out of it at the Greenbrier volved in the restaurant because you have more business? Did you go to cu- seasoned chefs, and you’re getting paid to work there. linary school?” SA: “I started at the young age of 16 washing dishes, and then essentially I just got really involved with that that kind of very intense, fast paced environment, I was very prone to it, being a very hyper individual. So I found my love for it pretty early on. By the time I was 19 I started my first cooking job at the Greenbrier as a garbagier. I sat down with the executive chef and said ‘I’m gonna go from here to here in X amount of months’…at the end of those months he brought me in to his office and said ‘you weren’t bullshitting me man.’ Of course after that everyone looked at me as his pet…. After working there for about two years, I finally got my shot to work at the Greenbrier Hotel where I started my apprenticeship. There we learned everything, you know, old-style French cooking, classic cuisineit’s a there year program, very hardcore. I wanna say it’s the best apprenticeship in the world, maybe out-

Once my apprenticeship was over I took off and went to Citronelle in Washington DC. I worked pastry first then I went to garbagier I spent about 6 months there. Then I went

“I don’t believe in that celebrity chef bullshit. We’re not in the kitchen for either love it or you don’t.” to this place [Motioning to his chef’s jacket], the Willard Intercontinental where I worked at the Café du Parc. After that I took a little time off cause I needed it, I went back home and I went back to work at the Greenbrier again. And then I finally went to New York City, and that’s where I worked at Per Se and Le Bernadain and then I came back here [Wash-


ington DC] and now I’m at the Intercontinental.” JH: “Of all of the restaurants you’ve worked at, what is your favorite meal that you’ve prepared?” SA: “Oysters. We have an Oyster dish at Prime 44 (A restaurant located within The Greenbrier Hotel), they’re kumamoto oysters. The first thing we’d do is take that fresh cute little oyster, very sexy looking, very pretty, put a little pink champagne gel right on top of the oyster, then dot some caviar on and shave some frozen wasabi root right on top. If you have real wasabi root, it’s hot just for a second and then smooth and sweet. We had little paper-thin croutons that we would slide the oyster on top of. It would add just a little texture. We served them on salt tablets- just iodized salt mixed with egg whites placed on top of the oven to harden in molds.” JH: “Do you follow any of the restaurant politics or big celebrity chefs of DC? Like José Andrés?” SA: “I don’t care about the fame of cooking. I’ll quote Marco Pierre White “re-


member what made you great” so if you came from behind the stove you speak from behind the stove. I don’t believe in that celebrity chef bullshit. We’re not in the kitchen for that. I can see if you’re trying to educate- fair enough, ok then there should be a little celebrity involved. But I’d rather have someone shake my hand and say ‘Thank you, that was a great meal, I’ll come back again’ instead of ‘Scott you’re going on the air in five minutes’. This life is just waking up in the morning, staying in the kitchen all day, sleeping a couple hours and going right back to work. Doing that everyday, a couple days off a month. You either love it or you don’t.” JH: “Favorite childhood meals?” SA: “Grandma’s pork chops. She’d fry some potatoes and onions in the skillet, caramelize the onions. It was just simple. The pork chops would be seared in the pan and finished in the oven, some home made applesauce on the side. Maybe a glass of wine or

simple: chef scott alderman

some beer if we were in the mood or if it was the right season. My favorite desert from back home would be grandma’s German chocolate cake. Three layers. She had a way of making that chocolate cake that was just outta this world. Very simple, but good.”

ents- some over-easy eggs with bacon, bacon just makes everything better, so does butter, omlettesagain, simple but good.” JH: “Simple but good seems to be your food philosophy...” SA: “I’ll quote Marco one more time “Mother nature is the true artist” she really shines through for everything. Simple food is just good and clean, it doesn’t need to be messed with much. People try to do too much with food. Simple, simple, simple… I can’t preach that enough.” JH: “If you could have any six people dead or alive, over for dinner, who would you choose?”

SA: “My brother and grandmother, Monica JH: “What basic ingredi- Belluci... she’s beautiful, ents do you always have in Andrew Jackson- ‘cause he was such a bad-ass, your fridge?” Sylvester Stallone and SA: “Butter, whole milk, Marco Pierre White.” bacon, some kind of fruit, (Drawing by Asako some type of meat or fish, Mikumo) eggs. The opportunities are endless with those ingredi-




July: Lawn Chair Ice-Cream

You will walk in on your father singing fergie’s, ‘big girls don’t cry’. You will re-evaluate your life.

September: Mariachi Band

August: Macaulay Culkin’s Face

You will prove some bitch wrong today.

October: Gemini it is SO hard to find chanel that fits

When this month ends, you will experience an awakening.

November: Uncle Buckle

The only life skill you’ve acquired is lighting all the candles on a birthday cake with a single match.

Your dog’s tracksuit is inappropriately tight.

December: Breed Confused Toy Poodle

Your real father is Bjork.


thank you... to everyone who donated to our Kickstarter campaign. Your support has proved that if you have passion for an idea, people will pay attention- no matter what your budget.

Josephine Raccuia, Laurence Lau, Tracie Hogan, Kevin & Anna Harkins, K.K. Moore, Fulcher, Ellis Glover, Eleanor Movold, Michael Brogan, Esq. Jackson Montana Krule, Ana Tomita, “Tweety” Thuy Dong, A. Grenade, Wade & Karen Movold, Jacquie Smalls, Keith Donoghue, Daniel, Cody Delistraty, Mike, Rachel Russell, Taylor’s Mom, Gypsé Eyes Magazine, Robert & Susan Harrison, Thelma Hogan, Gabrielle Costa, Claudia Chmarzewski, Cynthia Elmore, Dave Sullivan, Veeee, Mr. Michael Barnett, Justine Poustchi, ABK, Will Sherman, Barbie, Mary Catherine Bellamy Williams, Zoe Johnson, W. Smith, Riley Vainionpaa, Gregory Donnelly, Annie Mabus, Mary McAlevy, Melinda Hutson, Dawn Mitchell, Ryan Cook, Julien W. Ricard, Natalie Hawley, Mo Olivas, Jamie Maldonado, Catherine C. Duke, Reuven

The Debut Issue  

inconnu magazine's debut issue: fall 2011