You know: I rather thought I would be married in the Henkaa Sakura one day. 

Not this dress exactly, but in white. I was so certain that I needed to shoot the Henkaa Sakura Maxi in Pure Ivory for theNotice. And then, last summer, I tried it on – and I couldn’t do it. I wanted to save it, because an ache in my chest told me I’d need to save it for the future.

Dating on the internet is hard. It’s almost impossible to tell what you should say, and when; how your words will be interpreted, and who will be doing the interpreting.

I have an immense amount of respect for people who can run blogs that are full-time personal blogs, because I don’t have the tolerance for it. While it’s helpful–a privilege, even–to be able to process your emotions by literary means, there is always fallout. I learned a lot too late that, when you’re writing about real people, a misinterpretation can stall your relationship; can send a loved one into a tailspin.

Time is a funny thing. You can exist fully in the moment as you go about your day, but still find value in reaching back and re-processing.

The Henkaa Sakura Maxi

You’ve seen this dress before, in what’s likely the most epic photoshoot I’ve ever done. (There was a horse!) If you caught that post, you’ll already know all about the Henkaa Sakura: how it can be tied in over 60 different ways, and cut to any length. (I love the idea of buying this as a wedding or bridal dress as a maxi, then trimming the dress to knee-length and continuing to wear it.) The fabric is tough and silky, making it hard to shear, but giving you a lifetime of pill-free, wrinkle-free, raw-edged wear once you get it down to the right length.

I’ve left this dress a little long in these photos, pooling at my feet. It’s a mood: that melancholy stillness after you’ve done something terrible, because someone needed to. (A final act of service.)

It’s ironic, I suppose, that the dress that I was so certain I’d get married in would photograph so well for something with such longing. I am consumed by worry – although that’s a particularly toxic breed of narcissism that I’ve been feeding for years; a conviction that I have the ability to improve lives, and therefore the responsibility to do so at any cost.

I’m working on it: an active cataclysm of cascading improvements. 

Photos taken by Amy Mckissock of Bratty B – a spectacular fissure of a human being; a bleed in the fabric.