AnnieNap + Datura

Let me tell you the story of a Demon called Mephistophela, who's dancing and contemplating nature in a magical Purple Hill
Written in November 2027
Something was blowing in the forest. 
She was slowly walking to perceive the hidden power otherwordly, her fingertips was still tingling
I never felt so clouded before- whispered Méphistophéla while walking down the Purple Hills.

Despite pits November, also in the
evening the air was stale and heavy.

Suddenly that strange creature appeared right in front of me; she had long, black thick hair dancing through the wind, and she was staring at me. This vision on the Purple Hills made me freeze, I had no choice but to observe her spit branches of the tree behind her.
Shortly thereafter, Méphistophéla began to disappear.

Rachael Godt!
Annie Nap assisted by Julia Grandperret
Make-up Marguerite Machuel
Mugler Jacket

- and then the first desire was broken
an ethernal punishement 

assisted by Conrad Allain 
w/h Louisa Trapier
Stylist Helène Cousin Paris 

Toute femme est amère comme le fiel ; mais elle a deux bonnes heures, une au lit, l’autre à sa mort.

It’s with this quote by Pallada the Meteoro, 4th-
century BC epigrammist, that Mérimée starts in

his book; hidden under the classic misogynist tòpos
the two main themes of his work are born: “love
and death”, “eros and thanatos”.
There is no more abused poetic subject, there is no
more discussed couple; yet, Mérimée manages to
give new life to the subject, shaping characters with
archetypal contours and, therefore, immortal.
It talks about two lovers and two enemies: Don
José and Carmen, the gypsy.
He is a soldier, or a naive, who, guided by his
passion, leaves his life of duties for following her in
the ambiguous world of Gypsies, where the only
rule is the desire.
Often, however, desire is volatile, it follows the
wind and it has no abode.
Then the furious jealousy arises, the anger that
makes people blind, obscures the senses and
prefers femicide to the abandonment.

Carmen is a story of passions, dramas, and even
of picaresque adventures and expedients that are
rooted in literary culture, recalling Cervantes and
Lope de Vega, both in the same Iberian land.
Between its pages you can breathe the dryness of
the Spanish sierra, the smell of the Andalusian
flora, the gypsy spices, the sweat, the blood; you
may listen to forgotten songs, forgotten guitars,
shouts of joy and terror. Mérimée’s eruditism is
never pedantic but it gives shape to a living and
terrible, all-too-human universe.
There is a fire that animates this world, a focal
point around which everything seems to come
alive, and it is Carmen precisely, a woman whose
name is already poetry.

If the military defeats of 1808 suffered by
Napoleon in the Iberian peninsula had already
brought the fashion of Spanish exoticism into
French literature it is only in this work that, for the
first time, a gypsy plays the main role.

As the critic Jean Balsamo writes , and the force
with which he peeps in literary history is so
explosive as to make her an emblematic figure that
influences the tastes of the next generation. In
fact, the figure of Carmencita is in all the aspects
recognizable as the “femme fatale”, so dear to the
but European decadentism, not only French.

Carmen bewitches, seduces, corrupts; her dark
fascination is linked to esotericism, to magic, and
it feeds on a taste for the grotesque, for what is
She reads the cards, predicts the future or, rather,
guides the destiny.
The whole narrative could in fact be read as a path
of corruption of the naive Don José, until the final
It is difficult to judge her, to crush her under a
univocal judgment.
She doesn’t even seem human, but another
creature, wild and independent, natural, halfway
between a sorceress and a nymph.
She is called “beauté étrange et sauvage”, she
is compared to a chameleon, accompanied by
jasmine, by cassia flowers,
as if her place were not among humans but among
the scented bushes of Andalusia instead.

Lettering by @EdoardoMeda | Texte by @EdoardoAngrilli | Modèle @LéaGeoffroy

Design @Davide Colella                         

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        L’ ENFANT DE VOLUPTÉ  🐉 🐍

Ce n’était pas
un rêve ; c’était plutôt comme une réminiscence vague,
ondoyante, confuse, fugitive. Tous les souvenirs de
l’amour passé lui remontaient à l’esprit, mais brouillés ;
et ils lui donnaient une impression indistincte, dont
elle ne savait pas si c’était du plaisir ou de la douleur.
Cela ressemblait à l’indéfinissable parfum d’un gros
bouquet de fleurs fanées, où chaque fleur a perdu la
vivacité propre de ses teintes et de sa fragrance.

Elle ne savait pas si c’était du plaisir ou de
la douleur; mais, peu à peu, cette agitation mysté-
rieuse, cette inquiétude indéfinissable grandissaient et
lui gonflaient l’âme de délice et d’amertume. Les
pressentiments obscurs, les émois occultes, les
inavoués, les craintes superstitieuses, les aspirations
combattues, les douleurs réprimées, les rêves étouffés,
les désirs non satisfaits, tous ces éléments troubles dont
sa vie intérieure était composée, tout maintenant
fermentait et se soulevait en tempête.

Il piacere, Gabriele d’Annunzio

2019, Based in Paris