Not Just Another Pretty Face



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Greta Bellamacina is a model signed to VIVA Model Management in Paris and London on their talent division. But before making any assumptions,  listen up! Greta’s not following in the platformed footsteps of the slew of model-turned-rocker types (Karen Elson, Lissy Trullie) or as another It Girl personality a la Alexa Chung. Nope. Greta is a… get ready… POET!  A recent King’s College London graduate with a degree in English, Greta really knows her stuff. Her favorite influential poets range from E.E. Cummings to Anno Birkin, and she’s  already published a poetry collection entitled Kaleidoscope. That, PS, is in addition to boasting what just may be the coolest job title ever — the in-house poet!! — for fashion brands including AllSaints, Burberry  and Twenty8Twelve. There’s also this amazingness: Greta’s several fashion x poetry short films (!!!) for Harper’s Bazaar UK, which you seriously must check out. “I always wanted to record the romantic world for others to relate, rejoice and share,” she explains. Today, Greta shares two of her previously unpublished poems exclusively for our dear Galore readers!

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Your torso

Undream thy


Dissolve day crashing lips

Knocking-Buds, unborn.

To be great is to be unknown

To know neither leaf nor tree.

Child less bigger, mind less grown.

Arms, a mystical guest

To an unshy bed-rest.

Love text. Love tweet (is this love)

Repost, reword. Erase. Capital letter, and, but.

Night host’s a silence.

Fears blow, bites

And is gone under thy wheel. So I cycle

Your tone till dawn,

Slotting star wise, I accept.

Wire my head to your helium pray.

I kneel, you kneel.

No level is deep enough.

Owl wise, beyond breathing

Any skies, dig me

Kiss me, unbe only

Thy friend.

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Library nightclub

In the disclaim of old age,

I found my valentine

In deep flat salvation.

The assurers

Opened the gates to release

My mother and sisters.

Leap-frog tongues

Like locus star formations.

Memory loss was kind

Bottled, afloated dreams.

You would think I unhappy

If you saw my jaw line frown.

But I long beloved a spirit

Beyond me

Counting dates from a library nightclub.


All photographs by Jacob Perlmutter

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