Women, singing soft folk songs, strumming, and should you close your eyes, they’d be delicate, harmless. Ghosts of their hippie ancestry, playing songs in the park. But with eyes open- they’re troublemakers, dressed in costumes of skeletons and ghosts, barefoot and free. Packaged and adorned in smudged lipstick they return to the kind of childhood play that really knew what fun was all about.
words by Nada Alic