Façadism
I first spoke to Hana Earles at her birthday party a few years ago. It was a costume party with the theme “Real Eyes Realise Real Lies.” We’d both come as variations of a Manson girl. Hana was part Manson girl, part Lisbon sister from Sofia Coppola’s The Virgin Suicides; I was part Manson girl and part Australian model Abbey Lee Kershaw. I had written “GUN CONTROL” across my stomach with a Sharpie, copying Kershaw’s flaccid political gesture at the 2013 Met Gala. It smudged everywhere, and its ghost lingered for almost a week despite fervent scrubbing. I hadn’t trusted my interpretation of the party’s theme, but our match confirmed I understood the conspiratorial tilt. Hana wore candy-esque beaded children’s bracelets and bandages wrapped around her arms. Her costume insinuated that the rampant female obsession and romanticisation of suicide à la Coppola was a psy-op to convince teenage girls to kill themselves.



