Leaning into the spiral. Leaning into the puss. Smoking inside the hourly motel room with a broken lock and a mirror that knows too much. Welcome to CROSSING - birthed by two deranged crossdressers somewhere between a wig change and a cyph.

Delusional, divine, and deeply unwell. Shot straight from the belly of Queens, New York, where the eyeliner is thick, the attitudes are thicker, and sanity is a social construct.

Only these two beautiful psychopaths could conjure up a zine like this - equal parts lipstick-stained manifesto and glitter-soaked breakdown.

PRESALE is LIVE.
Buy CROSSING. Before we disappear into the night. Again.