Custom threads, messy sheets, and what happens behind closed doors.

Hotel rooms are for two things: luxury and getting into trouble.

I packed my latest design for this trip—a raw, chalk-style Mickey Mouse print—but let’s be honest: the shirt was just the beginning. I started taking these selfies for myself, feeling the heat of the room and the vibe of the city outside.

It’s bold. It’s provocative. It’s me, unscripted, playing with my own design and my own body. These shots are just the tease—the “pretty” side of a very long, very hot afternoon.

But you didn’t come here just for a t-shirt, did you?

If you want the real story—the part where the shirt ends up on the floor and things get heavy, raw, and completely uncensored—you know where to find me. My personal diary is burning up, and the full hotel series is waiting in the archive to show you everything I can’t say here.

Don’t just watch from afar. Get inside.