Sonia steps out.
Dissonant. Summer.
A girl in the street.
Kink in the city grid.
Daring. Strong. Dynamic.
Herself, as a rule.
And the rules aren't simple.
They're Sonia's.
White lines drawn on tarmac, lawn and clay in knits.
Clearly divided.
Jacquard geometries converge, rectangles collapse high about the thighs.
Pink and green vibrate.
Urban materiality losing itself.
Raised on the melting bitumen, Sonia keeps the competitive spirit.
Number 15 struck proud across the chest.
Colors declared in block.
Contrast pipings pop.
Stripes on daytime dresses, satin joggers by night.
A sports jersey entirely of sequins, shimmering like so many arcade screens.
Life's just like a game, She plays.
Bananas spangling silks.
Spilt pixelate in black jacquard or Intarsia-split in knit.
Shapes will lean, will slit, for skin ... Lines sliding sideways.
Defects or defiance? It's a question of attitude.
N'est-ce pas?
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