Mothers of Brides – The Crucible

There’s something about those girls- those girls who play music, the ones bundled and wrapped- their once bronzed skin fades and fades into milky whites as the entire city of Toronto slips into it’s needed hibernation. These girls, much like the deceptive biting winds of autumn, are complicated ones. Mothers of Brides, wrapped (quite literally) mummified, wielding knives in preparation for imaginary turkeys, or unlucky men caught in their crossfires- they were made for this kind of weather.

words by Nada Alic

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