#31 SUBSCRIBE

A cover artwork by Maddison Henriks. Image is a black and white illustration on a pastel sage green background. In the bottom half of the image, three feminine figures appear in black and white. They are surrounded by a fluid, squiggle-like border broken up by star shapes. Each face is different—one has her hair tied up in a ponytail, with a long fringe pinned back on each side, 90s style. They are facing the right side, looking pensive. Below and to the left, the second face has free flowing wavy hair with curtain bangs, freckles on their face, and their mouth is slightly open. They are facing the left but their eyes are glancing to the right, as if curious about something. The final figure in the bottom right corner has their eyes shut and face scrunched, with their tongue poking upwards out of their mouth. Their expression is cheeky or rebellious. Behind the drawings of the three faces, pixelated paper aeroplanes cover the background of the image, all positioned at different angles.

Under the unapologetic energy of Maddison Henriks’s cover, Niamh Schofield has a bold directive for facing life. Zowie Douglas-Kinghorn explores the ripples between inner and outer biologies and Esther Ottaway moves through the physical and linguistic layers of her own name. Saanjana Kapoor unpacks family memories like film, while Soph Fitzgerald allows them to grow like precious fruit.
Victoria Manifold serves up FOMO and the cult of the workplace alongside Amelia Saward’s scrumptious art. Yazmin Bradley wrestles with self-promotion and Sagar Nair confronts frogs and toxic friendship. Vilde Espenes reveals the long lie of our daily stumble though technobabble, and Dan Hogan drops us into a headlong conclusion, diving through the tyranny and irony of the social media age.