The Modern Muse

It’s not easy to be yourself or else everyone would be doing it.

Timpa’s persona goes against toxic hyper masculinity, especially in the black community. He doesn’t conform to any social constructions – he’s extremely fluid and this allows him to be any character he wants.

I think it is important to expose the general population to individuals who are comfortable with themselves— I find those people to be a great reference point of how the future will look.

I often play with juxtaposition, I feel Timpa naturally contrasts environments he enters, he is never fazed by strangers watching eyes.

Timpa is a local enigma, his essence is free and expressive.

Culture

SCHWET x Stylus Midnight Bathhouse Tuna Party

RIP Mr. Tuna, but his sacrifice was not in vain. The raw sashimi was the main delicacy of the night and brought people together as a primal spectacle. Indeed, SCHWET returns to the primitive senses of raw hunger and resilient libido, and a glimpse of that energy was leaked last Friday for the after-hours party. The dance floor was kept alive thanks to Stylus, a multi-level members club dedicated to sound and ephemeral art in what was formerly LoHo Studios and the Blue Man Group’s rehearsal studio. Party goers intimately shared the space to dance, feed each other tuna, and swap secrets. As a no phones event, the party was booming with meaningful conversations. There was a profoundness in knowing the scene around you could only be documented in your memory, a sincerity in remembering an Instagram handle to follow once you got home, a graciousness in being completely engrossed in the moment. SCHWET offers a newly charged presence to TriBeCa’s nightlife, recognizing the impact of a good night out on wellbeing.

The bathhouse clubhouse fusion balances body detoxification with social retoxification, facilitating communal pleasure. Set to open to members this summer and to the general public this fall, guests can expect immersive and sensual wellness treatments. Get whipped by warm oak leaves during a platza in the Russian banya, exfoliate yourself (or someone else) in the Japanese scrub room, float across the Budapest-inspired Grand Pool Room, linger in Slavic fare by firelight in the sultry lounge. SCHWET is a retreat from the city within the city; confined in their walls is a portal to a 5th dimension, one where the best aspects of global retreats merge to heighten gratification.

Culture

The Ugly Pretty Party by Perfectly Imperfect x Back Market

May 17, 2026

What does it mean to self-identify as “ugly”?

New York is full of beautiful people. And none of them are perfect. The city’s creative culture has grown increasingly affectionate toward a more subversive style: that of distressed denim, smudged eyeliner, worn leather, and personal accessories like bags, water bottles, and even laptops customized by pins or stickers for a unique flair. And with stylistic customization comes the inevitable consequence of imperfection: creases, scratches, and residual stickiness. The poetics here lie in the fact that the imperfections are evidence of a life well-lived. “Ugliness,” if it can be called ugliness, has become something aspirational, as society shifts its attitude toward the rejection of what once was sterile perfection.

This notion is at the core of The Ugly Pretty Party, New York’s latest gathering for the culturally conscious and creatively dressed. In collaboration with Perfectly Imperfect, the event celebrated the launch of Back Market’s latest rollout, The Ugly Computer. In an age that has normalized consumerism and “throwaway culture,” The Ugly Computer dares to go against the grain by embracing flaws on refurbished products and pushing for sustainability over contributing to eco waste. And Perfectly Imperfect, a media platform dedicated to amplifying unique perspectives, turns up the volume of such a morally driven cultural disruptor.

Words by Selena Aiyla
Photography by Lauren Davis

In an era of airbrushed perfection, The Ugly Pretty Party is a move toward radical transparency and sustainability.

“It’s what’s on the inside that counts.” Back Market centralizes this conviction as they fill the walls of Silence Please, a multi-hyphenate speakeasy where you can, on a normal day, browse records, drink handcrafted teas, and sit among a sea of silver laptops when coworking is of personal importance. On this particular night, the lounge is filled with a selection of young people who have worlds of creativity existing inside them. Surrounded by fiction writers, fashion designers, and visual artists, the notion is abundantly true. That which is on the inside seems to instantly beautify that which is on the outside.

The night is full of sounds by Nation, DJ Thank You, velvette blue, and rockie rode. The thematic choice of Silence Please alongside such exceptional soundmakers is to cut through the noise, putting a pause on the cycle of routinely tossing old items for new ones. The party drew a narrative space for The Ugly Computer, riddled in residual sticker marks and abundant in cosmetic issues. Imperfections that add character without compromising the functionality and integrity of the technology. In this way, Back Market leads us in a reclamation of the word “ugly,” and teaches us to repurpose this language into a term of endearment, a term of empowerment.