Kiernan Shipka Rocks Louboutins When She Rides a Bike / Photograph by Williams & Hirakawa / Photograph by Williams & Hirakawa

Don’t you, troglodyte?

Vanity Fair’s recent Spotlight  is a perfect storm of several obsessions: Shipka, fashion fierceness, bicycles for people of leisure, and the open road. Surprised I maintained consciousness. If you click for the rest of the shots I’ve so thoughtfully provided after the jump have Jeeves keep smelling salts close at hand…

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by anne wilmott, Stills


Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

I remember a game we used to play.

You would get on top of me and I would scream words that had no meaning at the top of my lungs. You screamed your own just as loud, the two of us like intimately positioned savages from warring tribes. Except if those syllables of Babel could be translated I would have known you were shouting you were on my side the whole time weren’t you, dear. Weren’t you?


i get along without you very well (except sometimes)


It’s funny how later you will betray It.

How you can act like it really wasn’t all that it was and that the feeling that flowed between the two of you wasn’t It. Couldn’t have been, because if it was, how the fuck are you getting out of bed in the morning and driving to work with all the rest of them…treacherous and obediently arranged within the gouged out dotted lines that pock the ashy expanses of lonely winter asphalt.

Not mourning with private devotion or attempting–you swore you would–to cut your heart out of your chest x-acto knife-style with the ghoulishly steady hands of  a surgeon.