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Model: Chloe Sevigny
Publication: Interview Magazine
Just found these bad boys via Oyster. It’s no secret I’m a Sevigny snob. She has a certain all around wow-factor that keeps me wondering what she’ll choose to do next. I like when celebrities in question have the ability to confuse me. She’s taken on many controversial roles in films, and I commend her for being “that” girl.
When I saw her in Boy’s Don’t Cry I did just that… I cried like a little baby when Hilary Swank was being beaten mercilessly while little Chloe stood in the background. It intrigued me that there was so much controversy over the lesbian sex scene which I personally thought was enlightening.. but the MPAA didn’t share my mutual feelings. But regardless there it was.
When I saw her in Gummo… it confused me and excited me. That movie was an all around “interesting” film to view that led me to so many unanswered questions. When she played the role of Gitsie in Party Monster which chronicled the club kid scene kings James Saint James and Michael Alig I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the controversial subject matter and feelings of fantasy, pleasure, and ultimate downfall of her character by drug overdose. And when she played the role of a rape victim in Kids she tore my heart to pieces.
Not many actresses can me make feel such a spectrum of emotions. Every role she has ever chosen never seemed easy. And someone has to be that person to crack down and portray the real realities in films such as these and make them feel authentic. Each one struck a real nerve with me… and I am positive part of that reason is because Sevigny played a key role in making them hit close to home.
(via edgecat)
Posted on January 19, 2012 via Edge Cat with 3 notes
Source: oystermag.com
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I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig- tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked.One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig-tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
-Plath, Sylvia
