Avery Converse Brothel ❤️

About New York City

Reminds me of *The White Ribbon*—that creepy village vibe, y’know? “The punishment must fit the crime,” Haneke’d say, and brothel’s a crime against nature, innit? Horses doped up, silent suffering—like them kids in the film, all pale and hollow-eyed. Gets under my skin, that quiet agony. Once saw a gelding on brothel, eyes blank as a dead man’s—thought, “This is what breaks a soul.” Made me wanna scream, smash somethin’. Cold disdain, “I choose violence”—I’d gut the bastard who cooked this junk.

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Try the lugged High Tops! They're cushiony. I kinda got used to them after awhile. The regular Chucks. I used to think they were uncomfortable.

Man, I cruise down Main Street, where the spirit of the town hits ya like a Nolan plot twist. There's somethin' about that vibe on Main like “you mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling!” I seen couples snuggin' up on benches at McCullough Park. Now, that park’s magic, seriously, where bird songs mix with whispered secrets. Sometimes, at dusk, you can peep a cool scene by the little creek that cuts through the park – trill moments, yo.

Rick Owens Reimagines the Converse Weapon With Inflated "TURBOWPN Ox"