xoxo, nico

Fashion Designer Alisha Trimble and photographer Nicole Marie Polec have teamed up for a showcase at WIX Lounge. Alisha will be presenting her FW2012 Collection and screening her short film entitled “DRY” amidst Nicole’s collection of images. Over the last five years, Alisha and Nicole have worked together on multiple projects but their favorite thing to do together is eat tacos. Their unique history begins in the Village of Romeo, MI where the tweens met in the junior high cafeteria and eventually decided to share a locker together. So the legend goes, their first conversation went as follows:

{N} “Hello, my name is Nicole. Who are you?”
{A} “I’m Alisha.”
{N} “Alisha, that’s a model’s name…that’s like a fashion name.”

Upon graduating from Romeo High, Alisha was awarded a full ride scholarship from College for Creative Studies then transferred to the San Fransisco Art Institute where she received her Bachelors degree in Fine Arts. Nicole ran away to Nashville, TN after high school and returned home to study interior design with dreams of becoming a model. She soon realized that her talent shines behind the camera rather than in front. After living in a darkroom for two years at the New England School of Photography in Boston, MA she ran away [again] to Hollywood, CA.

After a couple years of soul searching and practicing their passion, Alisha and Nicole both settled in Brooklyn, NY only a few blocks from each other but didn’t know it. A mutual connection pulled pieces from Alisha’s “LOVE 4EVER” SS09 collection for a spread in SWOON Magazine, a new publication who’s graphic designer commissioned Nicole to shoot the issue’s featured style guru, Najwa Moses. Over a decade has passed since last seeing each other in high school art class, and just by chance, Alisha and Nicole are reunited at Beauty Bar while celebrating the milestone of being published in a real NYC fashion magazine.

Alisha and Nicole have worked together on multiple shoots, events and projects. Their roots will be intertwined for a lifetime and the WIX showcase is a chance to expose their audiences to their accomplishments with multimedia eye candy. Alisha Trimble will present her FW2012 Collection from 6:00pm until 7:00pm and Nicole Marie Polec’s work will be on display for the whole reception.

another day another dollar or so they say. time is man made though, a figment of our imagination or may be something that sounds as if you could have dreamt it up somewhere along the way. truth is a stranger to fiction even if they’ve been introduced multiple times but what i forget to remember always ends up failing or not letting the entities recollect one another every time they decide to collide. seeing is believing even if it didn’t make a difference then. maybe you’re to busy trying to prove yourselves to be nothing less than inadequate elements in these ironic hypotheses. be careful not to slice the silver lining with occam’s razor while you scheme to manipulate theories. it is as simple to create a misconception as it is to complicate a happy ending.

two pence for entrapment plus one penny for your thoughts but if forgiveness is as simple as worthless then nothing can balance when market values are measure by what’s bought. supply and demand can equal shameful if a deal is what you sought so what’s the point of sentimental when what you’re fighting for is done and lost. there are those who drink themselves back to the beginning then believe they’re the one’s who deserve the happy endings, predict the outcome of fantasies and believe what they need until irony proves them wrong. i dare you to pretend you’re enchanted with the hypothesis of incompetent or better yet prove you’re capable of making a mistake you’re proud to admit. your true colors are transparent and you’re worth far less than any unfortunate chain of events or destruction you have to live with since every connection we had most likely considers you past tense.

its not easy living someone elses’ dream. its not fair, its not real but at least it could be my new beginning or a false pretense for all those fantasies i imagined that could possibly happen to me. a lottery of disguises and plots to keep my piece of mind from turning into dust at the gates of reality. perhaps its the four letter answer to the crossword riddle for deity or maybe the clue i’m missing could crack the code of why i told the lies i pretend to know in order to keep from revealing the consequences of what holds me back from killing any truth worth its exposure. my faith is locked inside a cryptic jewelry box and everything i conceal is as valuable as believing there’s a pin-light worth reaching if i make it through this tunnel. i can’t help but blame myself for being the victim of a dream and when i take the stand you can be the guest of honors’ lonely witness. as i raise my right hand and plead insanity the holy grail can disappear beneath my fingertips because i solemnly plead to never admit i was the only soul who made the mistake of believing its perfectly okay to keep my toes crossed when i made a wish. i am brave enough to hope to die but petrified to pull the needle out of my eye.

there’s the mean time and then there’s the time being but in my world it just seems like time is just being mean to me. i ran out of it hours, days, weeks and months flashes ago. i wasted it all laying in bed waiting for you to come calling. i wonder if you heard what i did. i wonder if you care that i may as well be in a coffin or maybe you’re the one silently punishing me for my actions. go ahead and try to make me feel guilty. try to make me feel like i’m the one that did something wrong. guess what: i can justify anything i do in the blink of your eye and out of the corner of mine i’ll watch myself leaving; go on now, sneak out the back door but you can’t come after me when you’re sustained by the grip of the pour little heiress you picked when you decided to get even your with your instinct. its too late to say you’re sorry and it takes to much energy to hate being in the same time at the same place. you are to blame for the demons you swallow like the larva floating at the bottom of a tequila bottle.

well hello there best friend, aka sunshine. i will never unconditionally love anything the same way i love you and i don’t even care that you left me for digital. she’s pretty with so many more capabilities and a really nice body. i can’t even compete. it was like a slap in the face when i found out you developed a relationship with technology, i should have saw it coming. in an instant my life changed and now it will never be the same. i keep trying to convert but its so difficult. i can’t get over how much i think about you and how long i can stare at the memories i secretly keep in a hat box hidden underneath his box spring. our love has been and will forever be forbidden.

stay tuned…

what if we are all accidents and the only compassion we get comes from reasons beyond our control. i knew it was a mistake to let you take it away but i never thought it could get thrown back in my face. this is no longer a friendship because you turned it into a business in a fraction of a second. i saved you hundreds of notes and it took threats to get you to return what you said your dog named dylan broke. its all good though i’ll take the blame and make it all my fault because i don’t know i suppose its karma that’s come back to haunt me because i didn’t deserve what was served on the silver platter two hours before i pawned it. the problem with this economy is that everyone believes they should get something for free like they’re entitled to it and then here we all are wondering what the future holds and pretend we can figure out whats going to happen. i’ve always thought that if i did have millions it would be a dying shame if i couldn’t spend all of it in one day on things that make the people i live for win the game.

all we can remember is what tore us both us apart instead of what’s forgotten at the bottom of our hearts…smiles filled the silences and laughter filled the sound and everyday was more important when you were around…

loss is uncontrolled and that is what makes it so aggressively painful.