Story Time

There’s a version of me that leaves Miami. She’s already gone—chasing clarity in the desert or landing somewhere anonymous. She tells herself she’s outgrown the chaos, the temptations, the slow-burn lessons. She packs light, burns old journals, doesn’t look back.

And then there’s the version that lingers. She walks the same beach path at golden hour, searching for meaning in the place that broke her open—and held her through it. She wonders if she’s not done here. If maybe, just maybe, she’s still building something tender in a place that never quite promised safety. If Miami could be home, if only I let it be.

Modeling The Draft Studio’s latest collection with my siren best friend @awakened_______ felt like stepping into that exact tension.

Inspired by the biblical tale of Lot’s wife—the woman who looked back at Sodom and turned to salt—this collection explores doubt, memory, and the magnetic pull of the past. But in this version, she isn’t just disobedient. She’s layered, haunted, divine.

“In my version, she is a woman with a complicated past—one she wasn’t proud of but couldn’t help returning to in thought… She held on to her show attire, reworking it into her everyday wear—bold, unapologetic pieces that might have been frowned upon by women outside the city, but in Gomorrah, no one cared.”

Gomorrah could just as easily be Miami. And maybe I’m her—Lot’s wife in sequins, heels on hot pavement, still looking back at a city that scorched and shaped me.

Wearing these pieces wasn’t just styling. It was storytelling. I saw the version of me that wants to run—and the one that finds poetry in staying.

The Draft Studio gave us garments that feel like both armor and altar. Remixed stagewear turned streetwear. Silhouettes for the woman who wants to be seen and shielded. Bold. Complex. Impossible to box in.

And what better place to wear them than here—this wild, paradoxical city?

This shoot became a love letter to Miami. Not the polished, tourist-facing version, but the messy, magnetic one I’ve survived, softened in, spiraled through.

To look back here isn’t a failure. It’s a form of reverence.

I know this story doesn’t offer a tidy answer—whether I’ll stay or go, whether looking back is wise or reckless. But maybe that’s the point.

There’s power in uncertainty. In holding space for tension, longing, the layered truth of wanting two things at once. Of being both ready to leave and not quite finished here.

That’s what these garments speak to. That’s what Miami, in all her heat and haze, has taught me. You don’t always need resolution. Sometimes, it’s enough to just stand in the complexity—glittering, grounded, and gloriously unresolved.

Thank you, @thedraft.studio, for letting us step into your myth and mood.