# data[].attributes.body
Character sketch of guy who likes to surf and be detached but really is afraid to show that he is thoughtful and cares deeply about things.

Imagery of beanie to hide behind, barefoot on the rocks, waves crashing

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His arm was inked with pines, a chestnut and an oak. ‘Lungs of the earth’, he used to call them. His skin of his soles were hardened by his desire to be in constant contact with the earth - whether it be walking barefoot across the heated tarmac or jumping across rock pools with his surfboard in search of the best waves.

He hid his hair under his hat, his way of keeping something to himself, to keep all of us guessing. It had been two years since it last came into contact with soap and felt softer than a kitten’s 2-week old fur. The dark intensity of his eyes seemed to pull people in, a strange mixture of boyhood curiosity and false maturity. He had so much to say but lacked the confidence to say it. His lips to move to speak but would them purse up, concealing, hiding – always hiding. Whenever the stubble on his face would grow more than an inch, he would bring out the soapy water and strip it away, desperately trying to maintain his innocence.

# data[].attributes.body
She chose to ink her past into her skin. On her right thigh, a vibrant pin-up girl which might appear to some as a playful tattoo but for her, it reminds her of white powder. Of endless nights spent barricading her door as her dad yelled at her mum. Of the conversations she heard whilst sitting on the staircase, holding on to the bannister so tight that it felt like it was stretching her skin. Of the nights she didn’t eat because all their money had been spent on her dad’s high. He would rather escape his reality than provide food for his wife and daughter. She sat on the tattoo artist’s table for hours watching the ink bleed into the surface of her skin to remind her that she can overcome anything, that ‘White Lady’ will not dictate the outcome of her life. Instead, she turns to a lighthouse of her left forearm – of a place she feels most at home. Thousands of miles away from the pain of her past. Looking at it summons the sound of the sea, the gentle lapping of the waves. It is her rock; it is her lighthouse; her guide.

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Her eyelashes flicker from underneath the rim of her black fedora hat. She hopes no one can see her. Her hair is tucked away in a neat plait, cascading down her back because she likes everything in order. Her glasses show no signs of smudged fingerprints, her nails are always perfect and plain. She will spend minutes writing out one word to make sure that all of the letters are the same size and same curliness – this distracts her. She wishes she were in another world, probably outside sitting amongst the silence of the trees – or buried in a book. No one to ask her questions, no one to ask her how she is feeling or what she thinks about something trivial. Instead, she hides behind the rim of her black fedora hat.

# data[].attributes.body
Create a magazine along the lines of the theme: 'The Cost of Vanity'

Keywords Issy gave me to work with:

Identity
Concealing
Revealing
Layers
Tattoos
Piercings

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Beanie - Afraid of showing feelings
Fedora Hat - Doesn't want to be seen but draws attention through hat
Jeans - Dad with heroin addiction, wants to break free
T-shirt/shirt - To be decided
Lacy Bra - To be decided

# data[].attributes.body
She chose to ink the past into her skin

# data[].attributes.body
To wear your heart on your sleeve

# data[].attributes.headline
Issy's Sketches of Final Products: Fedora Hat

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Issy's Sketches of Final Products: Fedora Hat

# data[].attributes.headline
Issy's Sketches of Final Products: Jeans

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Issy's Sketches of Final Products: Jeans

# data[].attributes.headline
Issy's Sketches of Final Products: Beanie 

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Issy's Sketches of Final Products: Beanie 