DENIER 2— "Erotica is Wholesome"

March 12, 2026

“Tell an erotic story. You have one minute. Everyone must get on the bed.” That’s the only instruction on the invitation to DENIER, the erotic salon hosted by Alice Scope, Haley Albert, and Mindy Seu, held inside Los Angeles’ historic brutalist American Cement Building.

Now in its second iteration, DENIER sits somewhere between performance, reading series, and social experiment. The setting feels lifted from a ’90s erotic thriller: a private loft with floor-to-ceiling windows framing a skyline of Downtown Los Angeles, and pre-batched martinis chilling in the fridge. Artists, writers, curators, sex workers, and friends rotate through the bed-as-stage, delivering sixty seconds of confession, fantasy, or provocation.

The erotic charge comes from the risk of saying something intimate out loud. There’s the slight embarrassment, the collective attention, and the awareness that everyone present is participating in the same performance. In an era saturated with sexual imagery but strangely allergic to vulnerability, DENIER proposes a different kind of eroticism, one that’s built from gathering and storytelling.

A week after the second gathering, Scope, Albert, and Seu reflect on the night, from an analysis of erotica to what surprised them in the aftermath. Their conversation also touches on the quiet return of salons and semi-structured gatherings across contemporary art: formats that blur the boundaries between performance, discourse, and social life. Sometimes the most charged thing you can do in a room full of people is simply climb onto the bed and start talking.

Photography by Isabella Behravan, Anastasia Velicescu, and Sinna Nasseri

Haley Albert: It’s a week after DENIER 2, our second erotica salon. How are you feeling about it?

Alice Scope: Feeling erotic doesn’t always look the way you expect. The evening was actually very tender

Mindy Seu: My takeaway was that erotica is actually very wholesome. There was flirtatious energy and a very active audience, but there was also this incredibly engaged listening. There was a cheekiness in the air, but it didn’t feel overtly sexy. Everyone left around midnight, but maybe that’s an LA thing. During the readings, we watched people talk about erotic topics, but there was this collective awareness that we were all participating in a performance. We were playing with traditionally erotic themes in a very safe way. And maybe eroticism needs a little risk — a different kind of risk than what happened.

AS: The setting was also like a 1990s erotic thriller, which honestly did 80% of the work.

MS: Hah, yes, my dream has always been to live on the set of a ’90s erotic thriller. When I first saw this loft years ago, I became obsessed with it. Now to call this my home and to host gatherings here, using this skyline as a backdrop in a city with such cinematic history, it truly feels like a set of a performance. We’ve also all been thinking about erotica in some way in our independent works.

HA: When we were first brainstorming this, I approached Mindy about doing some kind of live radio or salon. My friend Georgia Lil and I host a show called Erotica Radio Hour on Frank News. Originally we thought about doing a live radio taping where people read erotic writing, but it evolved into something much more interesting.

AS: A year ago I curated an exhibition called Erotic Codex. The central question was: how has technology changed our perception of sexuality? I became fascinated with the idea of relationships with non-human entities — dating chatbots, intimate relationships with AI. When we started talking together, it felt like all of our fields overlapped, but each of us was approaching the topic from slightly different directions.

MS: As I’ve moved into my mid-thirties, I want my life to feel like an extension of my art practice. My latest projects Cyberfeminism Index and A Sexual History of the Internet deals with embodied technologies and revisionist internet histories. But growing up in a very conservative environment, sexuality felt extremely taboo. Over the last decade I’ve actively tried to give myself permission to talk about these things openly. When you make work about people, embodiment and desire are inherent.

AS: I was born in the Soviet Union. There’s this famous phrase: “There is no sex in the USSR.” It came from a televised conversation between the US and the Soviet Union. A woman said, “There is no sex”, meaning there was no sex on television, so it became symbolic of the taboo. Growing up, there was no sex education, no erotic magazines. At home we had one French animated cassette and one porn tape my parents owned that I accidentally watched as a child. I think that moment planted the seed of my fascination with eroticism. Haley, did you grow up in a conservative environment too?

HA: Not really. My household was actually very permissive which sometimes had the opposite effect — hearing your parents talk openly about sex when you’re a kid can make you retreat into your shell.

It made me very aware of the performative aspect of talking about sexuality. I kept wondering: what is erotic experience actually, beyond the performance of talking about it? Is it a feeling you tap into? A longing? Dissatisfaction? A kind of encounter?

AS: Something that surprised me was that a few people cancelled at the last minute because they felt shy about sharing a story. I found that shocking. It’s 2026 — why are we still shy about talking about eroticism?

HA: I don’t think it was about the content of what people were reading. It was about the act of reading it to each other. Standing on a bed, holding a microphone, saying something intimate and risky — that was the erotic act. Not necessarily the words themselves.

MS: Yes, the eros come from vulnerability.

AS: As a curator I attend so many readings and panels where I think, could this be shorter? So I thought: what if everyone only had one minute? Then you can only say what you really want to say. I also liked replacing a stage with a bed and making it participatory.

MS: One minute forces people to get to the climax quickly. Twenty or so people reading for one minute each felt fast and fun, like an erotic news broadcast. The name DENIER also relates to restraint. It suggests denial, teasing — giving just enough but not too much. Then we discovered that “denier” is also a textile measurement, a thread count. It was the perfect convergence.

HA: Why do you think there was such strong collective energy?

MS: More than half the audience were also readers. When people feel like they’re co-creating something, they’re invested in everyone succeeding.

AS: The lineup also mattered. High-energy performers next to quiet, whispering poets. That contrast made everything feel dynamic.

MS: Have our salons changed how you define the erotic? I realized something: eroticism might not be performable. You can share stories about it, but actually feeling erotic is deeply embodied.

HA: Maybe performance simply gives you a way to notice the feeling. After one reading, Luca [Piccin] came offstage saying, “I feel so sexy right now.” The performance itself created that charge.

AS: I also thought about ancient Greece, where eros meant passionate love. You could feel erotic energy collectively, among friends, through gathering. The actual erotic moment last night might have been after the readings, when people were socializing and feeling the chemistry.

HA: We’re not starved for erotic imagery today — we’re flooded with it. So maybe the erotic today lives in the cracks. In a world saturated with sexual imagery, the erotic becomes something subtler, something you feel when you slow down enough to notice it.

DENIER 1 took place in April 2025. It included one-minute stories (in order) by Lena Chen, Esra Soraya Padgett, Lauren Lee McCarthy, Star Feliz, K Allado-McDowell, Huntrezz, Iman Person, Clare Gillen, Jake Levy, Haley Albert, Ibuki Kuramochi, Silas Munro, Halleta Alemu, Luca Piccin, Mindy Seu, Nick Harwood, Noelle Perdue, Max Friedlich, Alice Scope, Kola Heyward-Rotimi, Lindsey Normington, Jesse Damiani, Siri Dahl, Armen Nalbandian, Alice Bucknell, and Sammy Sins

DENIER 2 took place in February 2026. It included one-minute stories (in order) by Rei Hertzler, Karl Charles, Alicia Novella Vasquez, Pierce Myers, Eileen Isagorn Skyers, Zack Seekoff, Rina Nicolae, John Threat, Olive Kimoto, Sammy Loren, Christina Lu, Haley Albert, Andrew Thomas Huang, Alice Scope, Sylvan Rackham, Gabrielle Richardson, Alima Lee, Nora Berman, and Maya Man.

Stephen Jones: In-focus

How do you see the evolution of how people see and wear hats throughout your career?

SJ: It’s very different, hats used to be very much occasion wear and now they have polarised it to be fantasy or totally functional as a beanie on a Monday morning.

Tell us about your design process. Where do you start? How do you think about the hat and the body?

SJ: I live my life and put it into a hat, so I never really stop designing in my head it’s just occasionally those ideas are put down on paper and become hats. I always think about the hat with the body because a hat is not a separate object it needs to become a part of the person

Tell us about your ability to bring other designers' vision to life. How are you able to be so creatively adaptable through your numerous collaborations and long-spanning relationships?

SJ: It’s really about bringing their imagination to life, it’s what we create together. That’s the key they couldn’t do it themselves and I couldn’t do it myself, it’s something we do together. I have to get inside their mind which is very unusual for an outsider.

" I live my life and put it into a hat. "

Tell us about your mentorship with Shirley Hex. How do you see the importance of learning the rules before you break them?

SJ: My time with Shirley Hex was extraordinary and she taught me the main principals of millinery, however after a couple of years she forced me out the nest and encouraged me to develop my own style in my own way.

How does British, London, and/or Paris culture influence your work?

SJ: Completely; British culture is a weird dichotomy of something that is very aristocratic or something that is very punk, but Paris brings something which is coquettish and mannered.

" It’s really about bringing their imagination to life, it’s what we create together. "

You've experimented with so many unconventional materials, how do you decide a material is meaningful to transform into a hat?

SJ: Well it has to serve the purpose of what the hat is trying to be, but also when you are making it, the hat serves the purpose of the fabric.

The Palais Galliera devoted a full retrospective to your work, what was it like seeing your work in this presentation? What do you want your legacy to be?

SJ: Number 1 it is an extraordinary honour to be included there. I could see my work, almost in the 3rd person, I didn’t see it as being uniquely personal but saw it as it being presented to others and I could analyse it quite dryly. My legacy to be that the pursuit of dressing can be a wonderful extension either of your character or who you want to be.

What do you think is a misconception about hats and the process of creating them?

SJ: That they are quick and easy, it’s very laborious because they are 3d objects.

Do you feel your design process is more learned or instinctual?

SJ: I think it’s a conversation of the two. I love learning about a particular subject and trying to transform that into a hat, but at the same time spontaneous expression is important because it looks fresh.

What other mediums of art inspire your hats the most?

SJ: I would probably say the most is architecture but nature as well as painting and sculpture, but the form of everything and everything, whether it’s an Opera or an apple, they tell a specific story.

SJ: Is there a hat you would never wear?

I would try everything, but not wear things which I didn’t feel were convincing i.e. a cowboy hat

What made the environment and culture of The Blitz a fertile ground for creativity?

SJ: Because it filled the vacuum that had been left by punk.

Do you have any favorite young milliners?

SJ: As the Chairman of the British Hat Guild, I am not allowed to say whether I do have or not

Where do you think people's fear around wearing hats comes from?

SJ: Sometimes it’s the fear of standing out too much and therefore assuming a greater importance than they feel they should have but often you can hide underneath hats too and hats can be the conversation for you.

Is there a hat that got away? An idea you've wanted to create but haven't yet actualized?

SJ: Yes I am always looking for that hat around the corner.

Secret Teahouse Serves High-Frequencies on Brutalist Penthouse

April 27, 2026

Inside the Terre Velasca’s 25th floor hides the CROMO’s Secret Teahouse. The reflective tent, designed by Bogdan Martoiu, is based on the Vietnamese Rong House, a ceremonial space for cultural gatherings. Inside the temporary teahouse, a tea tasting session guides the guest experience of CROMO’s Cyborg Beauty, a Moroccan Mint Tea. Outside, a mini matcha bar served the event’s exclusive Double Tea - a mix of jasmine, matcha, and Oatly. The pop-up event is Milan’s first of many, leading up to the permanent opening later this year. The space was supported through the private membership club Madison House, also home to Terre Velasca in late 2026. Together, the immersive and thoughtful concept reshapes how tea can be integrated into contemporary markets, design, and culture.

CROMO values the ritual and intention behind tea, recognizing it as the ultimate wellness elixir. Tea attributes the radical notion of slowing down in lieu of the modern hustle culture, regulating a previously tense nervous system. The collection of nine high frequency teas are designed to heighten the physical and mental state. Ethically sourced from China, Japan, Kenya and made with low-impact methods, tea takes its purest form here, uniting craft and character across continents. The nomadic teahouse and all who were involved celebrate the present moment by elevating ancient tools for cultivating connection with the self, each other, and nature.

Photos Courtesy of Andrea Zendali

Courtesy of Federico Scaglia

Courtesy of Federico Scaglia

Indigenous Storytelling Takes the Big Screen

The pilot opens with a small town fair, but within the first two minutes tensions are already at a high, sure to have an audience edging their seats. The series draws from lived experiences, grounding its storytelling in raw emotion. Indigenous cultures observe storytelling as a necessary artform, and stories like Borders are becoming increasingly important to tell in lieu of controversial authoritarian migration and border control measures. The drama blends your typical western aesthetics with the intensity of a true crime, but it keeps its focus on the people living within these dynamics, resulting in an intimate portrayal of characters who represent the southwest’s major minority.

Season One is full of characters navigating loyalty, resilience, and power. At the center is a young Damion Thomas, a musician whose life is obstructed by personal loss, forcing him to face challenging realities while chasing dreams of his future. Other characters similarly battle with internal and external conflicts, including Anna Hernandez – who risks everything to protect her family, Tribal Chairman Clayton Johnson – whose leadership is tainted with hidden ties, and John Carlos – a Shadow Wolves leader balancing justice with personal allegiance. The cast builds a populace who reside within the collision of personal decisions and systemic forces. Every choice carries consequences, and every consequence carries karmic debt.

It’s a series full of blood, violence, drugs, but also bravery, heart, and spirit.

The half-hour pilot will premiere in none other than Phoenix, Arizona at the Celebrity Theatre on April 24, 2026. A fitting location, as the border state is infamous for drug activity, yet home to natives who challenge these stereotypes. In addition to the screening, a live Q&A and performances by Indigenous Enterprise, Nataani Mans, and Dead City Punx will enchant the night, redefining the premiere as a moment rooted in celebrating communities and preserving culture.