Claude Cahun, 1927
I am in training, don't kiss me
Oh there is so much to unpack here. A petite figure sits at the center of a faded gelatin silver print, brightly lit and wreathed in Baroque darkness. Their legs are daintily crossed, hair parted into symmetrical curls, their expertly painted lips tucked into a brooding pout and on each cheek is a dark heart. The figure wears a nude bodysuit under the loose shorts, tall boots, and leather wrist bracers of a circus strong man. read more
