summer shades

by Rachel Lynch

nothing like summers in nyc. here’s some photos i shot for zero uv around my neighborhood. i was really craving a milkshake and some new reads, so it just worked out.

really excited for my birthday coming up + my trip to paris! i’m planning some cool stuff and ya’ll will love the summer content!

happy monday


summer in the city

by Rachel Lynch

the memory of who i was slipped away as soon as i left. this month will be ten years since i moved away from my childhood home, six in new york.

i’ve never had a problem letting my past slip away, the person i was left in the night.

she was replaced by dreams of what could be, a life that would someday be mine.

sometimes now, it feels like i have that life. just a little. a soho loft, long blonde hair, the freedom to make art whenever i please, talented friends.

i guess though, i never doubted myself. that’s why it worked so well. there was never the palpable risk of failure, i was too persistent for that.

i hope the slew of social media i press into my eyeballs every day doesn’t take that from me.

and when i start to feel the doubt creep in, i set down my phone.

i return back into this life i have created for myself, this beautiful reality in all it’s dimensional glory.

and i know that it is enough.


the virgin suicides

by Rachel Lynch

watching movies with the sound off. dreaming you were somewhere else but you’re right here.

it’s so magical, but your head’s in the next moment and it’s like you were never even here.

i’m far away from you, but always with you. i dance in your mind, my smile replays softly. you remember me in pictures, soft and pastel like. creamy around the edges, child-like, a bubble pops in your heart.

but i am not yours, and you are not mine.

we are more creative that way.

i like making art to the idea of you, miss making love to the feel of you.

some things never really end, you are in my sound.

my morning and evening inspiration, the light in the day and the pull of pleasure at night.

forever yours,


watching movies with the sound off

by Rachel Lynch

forgetting to document the good stuff, every minute counts.

light rush to my head, i don’t know what to say anymore.

holding back is getting harder, the air is getting warmer.

i want you by my side all the time.


springtime pink

by Rachel Lynch

Some long-weekend style inspiration for you all. My bag is vintage dior + the butterfly bag is part of a new collection on dolls kill. Same with the butterfly bell-bottoms. All the other pieces are from the new spring collection at i am gia.

new loft / series III

by Rachel Lynch

We move from morning to evening with ease, the sorrows surrounding us slip away. We dine on white walls, fresh wood floors, and the smell of a bustling street. It is springtime, and we are in love again.

I’m doing my best to be healthy, and you’re doing your best to take care of me. It’s only a matter of time before I slip from my immediate surroundings into a sing-song world in my head.

But my love for you, these past four years, has always pulled me out of there. I’ve lost the identity of “psychiatric patient” and I get to be normal with you. I get to have a home, nice things and food to eat. My belly is always full with wine, affection, affluence.

Inside, I am cold. The kind of cold that develops after the world has forced you to be strong. I am hard in all the places I was once broken, this also makes me hard to love. I miss the ease of mental-illness, the way it took up all my time.

Now, I have to enjoy the sunshine, the world- the people in it. I have to be kind where I once would hide, show my face even on the bad days.

I don’t wear makeup the way I used to, my brows are thick, and my body is strong. I can do a push up. My arms can lift, and my legs can carry me.

Someday when I slide the rest of my fragility off, I will be dangerous. Very dangerous. A force to be reckoned with, an incredible artist with a room of her own and a strong love at her side.



by Rachel Lynch

today’s look. i’m obsessed with these pants from dolls kill. i love a chain/ harder masculine vibe. my shirt/robe is an old house of harlow piece, and i’ve worn it in every single way possible. i’ve even worn it as a dress during revolve week!

anyways, i love you all. trying to get back more into fashion/looks.

i’ve missed who i was/ who i am becoming.