In the eastern embrace of Switzerland lay a quaint town cradled by rolling hills and the Swiss Alps. The girl, raised in the simplicity here, felt the call of distant horizons. Leaving behind her rural haven, she embraced the world’s cities, their cultures, and their adventures.

Years rolled on, and the city lights dazzled her eyes, but a piece of her soul remained tethered to the green green meadows. Amidst urban craziness, she carried tranquillity in her heart. Once upon a time, she visited some fields and thought about her roots.

Beneath the sun’s embrace, the girl ran through the meadow, the wind a gentle caress on her skin. Amid nature’s symphony, she rekindled the forgotten melody of her youth. Her worries dissolved, replaced by a profound serenity.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the landscape gold, the girl paused, gazing at the hills. And so, her spirit renewed. The girl left the field that day. No longer bound by the city’s hurried pace, she carried the wisdom of her origins—the memory of a meadow where the wind whispered freedom and simplicity against her skin.

Pictures: Paco Grafie
Clothing: Antica Sartoria Positano by Giacomo Cinque
Shoes: Camper
Headband: Fumbalinas

In the heart of the 90s techno beat,
dancing the pain away, oh, so sweet,
Whigfield’s “Saturday Night” comes alive,
As Snap’s “The Power” continues to thrive.

Drifting to Eiffel 65’s “Blue” skies above,
A trance of emotions, a journey of love,
Guru Josh’s “Infinity” guides our flight,
Through the electric night, so pure and bright.

Beats of La Bouche’s “Be My Lover” ignite,
A passion that burns, a feeling so right,
Technotronic’s “Pump Up the Jam” commands the floor,
As we dance freely, wanting more and more.

Pictures: Greta Schoop
Editing: Sara Streule
Clothing: Nixi Killick, Shoes: Dixie,
Sunglasses: Gucci, Handbag: Jolie Laide

In a sea of lavender, where the bees hummed,
A girl with pink hair, a soul that danced and strummed.
Her heart, a canvas painted in hues of love,
In Provence’s embrace, she sought dreams above.

With a lace umbrella, she wandered the fields,
Where purple horizons whispered secrets, concealed.
The scent of blossoms, a sweet, fragrant trail,
Guided her steps, where love’s fickle winds prevail.

Frida Kahlo, her idol, a woman of might,
A tempest of colors, her pain took to flight.
Yet, the girl in the lavender, though inspired,
Felt shadows of doubt, her spirit untired.

She sought love’s embrace amid blossoms aglow,
But love, a fleeting wisp, chose to come and go.
Her heart, like a butterfly, fluttered unsure,
In the field of love, it was love she’d endure.

The hues of her dreams were a painter’s delight,
Yet love’s cruel strokes often marred the canvas bright.
Frida’s resilience, a beacon to pursue,
But her frailty was human, her strength, not imbued.

Like a lavender bloom, so delicate, fair,
She craved love’s devotion, its tender care.
But seasons would pass, and hearts might betray,
In the lavender field, love’s price she would pay.

Love found and love lost, a bittersweet score,
In the lavender field, she’d search for amore.
Her pink hair would sway in the sun’s golden gleam,
As she yearned for a love that would linger and beam.

Dress & Fan: Antica Sartoriapositano
Earrings: Carolina Curado

In a realm of dreams, where magic thrives,
Resides a pink-haired gentleman, enchanting lives.
With grace and poise, his presence ever grand,
He dons a royal blue suit, a sight so grand.

A palace, splendid, stands amidst the land,
A tapestry of wonders, designed by his command.
Its towering spires reach for the azure skies,
While secrets whisper in every room, a sweet surprise.

Within those walls, a love affair takes hold,
With roses as his muse, their stories yet untold.
Their petals, blushing, in hues of softest pink,
Mirroring his vibrant mane, in harmony they link.

His heart, a garden, blooming with affection’s might,
Nurturing love’s blossoms, beneath moonlit nights.
For roses, like love, require tender hands,
To flourish and grow, as nature’s art demands.

Oh, pink-haired gentleman, a beacon of grace,
With your love for roses, a charm none can efface.
May your palace forever be a haven for dreams,
Where beauty and love intertwine, like eternal streams.

Photographer: Fabiana Nunes

Suit: Sumisurra
Hat: Fabienne Breederland
Shirt & Belt: Vintage, Shoes: Sara Melissa

The clock at the diner said quarter past six. But the reality was different in a world where clocks ran out of battery and had so little importance that nobody even noticed their missing ticking. The ghost next to her held her hand and asked what she wanted.

What question was that? she thought. She wanted everything and nothing and both of them at once. She was starving, and her stomach hurt from too much cake wolfed down after midnight. She wanted to feel the wind in her hair, breathe independence, and stay safe forever in her eggshell.

The coffee went cold while she was daydreaming, looking at an imaginary starry sky filled with the lights of the passing cars. The ghost said it was time to leave. But where to? To the home she never had or the one she ran away from? To the past she was running from or the future she feared?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There was the memory of lemon cake lingering in the air. She saw herself when she looked inside her body and found calm. Not everything, not nothing, but an anchor that kept her in the presence. Maybe this was life.

Clothing & Hat: Vintage, Shoes: Melissa,
Sunglasses: Saint Laurent, Photographer: Roland Urech
Location: Cindy’s Diner

A circle represents totality, wholeness and perfection. There are a lot of circles in life: Day follows night; winter comes after summer; young becomes old. Everything is a circle if you start to see them! All elements flow, change, become what they are meant to be and make space for things yet to come.

The first time I heard about circles as something other than what we had to draw at school in geometry was when I was a little kid. I watched The Lion King with utter amazement on my face. Do you remember that scene when the little lion cub was presented to all the animals, and Elton John’s voice carried the epic scene? 

Everything in nature follows their circle: The flowers with their rhythm of resting, rooting, and blossoming and the bees picking their nectar and making honey. Knowing about circles also means taking care not to break them: To care that what we start flows and continues, not to interrupt circles, and not to cause waste but give a little push so a flow stays in its movement.

Since I saw the scene from Lion King for the first time, I have come quite a way in my circle. Growing up, learning, failing, getting up again, getting older, learning about my limits and discovering I could do more than I thought. Where am I in my circle? I do now know.

What I do know is this: I want to make a big, big rainbow-coloured circle. A circle that radiates, shines and inspires others. A beautifully round circle without any edges that hurt somebody and comes in all colours. Just like my bag.

What is your circle?

Pictures: Greta Schoop
Styling: Greta Schoop & Sara Streule
Hair & Makeup & Model: Sara Streule
Artwork: Safu at The Circle

Bag: I Love Syria, Clothing: Bought in the Provence,
Hat: Chapelaria Azevedo Rua, Belt: Claudie Pierlot,
Cardigan: The House of Foxy bought at Hazels Boudoir,
Shoes: Zara

A coronation occurs today in another dimension: Imagine a pink princess Diana sitting on the throne. High up is her chin, and the smile of the queen of hearts fills the room.

Whatever dimension, princesses have something in common: They grow up in a home that lacks love, and their wounded spirits crave attention. They only believe in their aliveness in the flashlights of the cameras and know how to play it to their advantage. Their desire for love is their tragedy and glory: In the breast of every Diana beats a heart starving and hungry. The disaster escalates if they are bound to men whose love they can never win.

But like every coin has two sides, the beauty always lies closest to the pain, and their past makes them capable of floating whole nations with love.

So tell me: Which dimension would you rather be and shout hail to the ruler in a spectacular parade: One with a dead princess that lingers like a beautiful shadow full of sadness or a dimension with a sparkling pink queen on the throne?

Photographer: Nora dal Cero
Hair & Makeup: Sandra Gimmel
Styling & Model: Sara Streule
Jewellery: Natkina, Clothing: Maroni Vintage
Crowns: One from Etsy, the others lent from friends