NOTHING UNQUIET HERE

imirage
Jul 3
2 min read

There is a moment just before the camera clicks—when stillness tightens into tension—that Fernanda Travinski owns completely. Shot by Kapture Studio, this visual study is not about fashion alone, but about the electricity of presence. In each frame, Fernanda doesn’t just wear the clothes—she haunts them.

The editorial opens in stark chiaroscuro: a black dress, minimal and monastic, clings to her silhouette. Her eyes hold the lens, unblinking. Maria Jose Salazar's styling here is sharp, exacting—every seam, every collar, every fold of fabric feels deliberate. It's as if silence were sculpted into a wardrobe.

Then, a shift: a splash of red slices through the black-and-white palette. Not loud, but deliberate—red leggings, a swipe of saturated fabric, a lacquered lip. Daniela Uribe’s makeup narrative turns quietly subversive. Skin stays luminous and untouched, while color punctuates the look with an undercurrent of danger. Red isn’t decoration—it’s declaration.

In other frames, Fernanda appears almost statuesque in sheer fabrics and bare shoulders, hair slicked and contoured by Lorenzo Badalacchi, evoking both sculpture and siren. One image finds her in motion—arms extended, fabric trailing—like a dancer caught mid-rebellion. She is part goddess, part woman shedding skin.

Light and shadow become co-conspirators. At times, the only illumination is the reflection off her cheekbone, or the glint of a metal buckle. Other images dissolve into a wash of soft white, where fashion becomes abstract—blurred, soft-edged, sensual.

Through it all, the clothes carry duality: masculine lines softened by transparency, strength layered with fragility. It's a language Salazar speaks fluently. The story ends not with closure, but with a question—a final image of Fernanda, eyes turned away, as if walking off the page and into something we can’t follow.

This is fashion as portraiture, as presence, as performance. And Fernanda Travinski she doesn’t simply appear—she arrives.