"It’s about looking expensive but smelling like trouble," she explains. "I want to look like a diamond that has been stepped on. I want to look like a princess who has been locked in a tower for twenty years and has started eating the curtains."
Sitting with Zartpopsi in a dimly lit dive bar that smells of stale beer and future regrets, her persona drops for a fraction of a second. Beneath the absurdity lies a sharp, weary intellect. katya zartpopsi