Kalina Isoline
New York
writer/designer
The Tulips Should Have Died by Now
The first time I fell off a horse, I almost landed on my feet. Her name was Marigold and I can't remember if she was old or young at the time, but I know that she was very much one of those things, and that I was 10 years old.
Kalina IsolinePublished about 4 hours ago in Fiction
The Place We are From
I was a quiet and agreeable child, who has grown into a woman just the same. I imagine it’s blue in the place I came from, as though it were 5:45PM all the time. A country where everyone had a sharp face, into which their eyes sunk deep. Where it was illegal to play Bruce Springsteen records, and blonde hair could save your life. A place frozen not just in time, but inside stories too.
Kalina IsolinePublished about a month ago in Families
What Becomes of Pieces
I started cutting up sweatshirts for more than one reason but a big one was that I was laying on the floor a lot. I drank so much grapefruit juice that I passed out on an eastbound Long Island Rail Road train and afterwards a bystander said he thought I had died. I had no idea there was a limit to the amount of grapefruit a person can drink, and wouldn’t learn about the adverse effects of mixing Adderall and acidic juices until later that day after minutes of WebMD research.
Kalina IsolinePublished about a month ago in StyledVanity Builds
Sometimes, when I read my own writing, I fear That I am reading the words of a Girl Trying to sound like a Woman.
Kalina IsolinePublished about a month ago in Poets
The (Small) Business of Fashion
I began thinking about making clothes in 2018, though who knows how long I’d been thinking about it or visiting it in my mind before then.
Kalina IsolinePublished about a month ago in Styled
Party Lines
In the elevator of a newly developed co-op in New York with too many chandeliers in the lobby, I’m eating a couple Twizzlers and blinking nervously when a vaguely Mediterranean, vaguely not guy in his mid twenties pries the elevator doors open milliseconds before their closing. In his approach, he hasn’t sped up to even a walk-jog. When he’s finally inside, he doesn’t apologize, instead hits the PH button repeatedly even though it’s already lit.
Kalina IsolinePublished about a month ago in Humans
