
STORY 01 — THE FIRST GAZE
It has always been an inquiry. Before the COUTUREBOY name existed, there was just the act of looking. A quiet study of how men enter light and are shaped by shadow. The men around me stood like sculptures carved out of ordinary life. Long before I knew the name Mapplethorpe, my gaze was infused by the familial, uncles with charismatic gravitas, lovers tying shoes the next morning, athletes moving through the locker room. I learned early that desire could be translated as whisper. A way of seeing and feeling that rearranges and charges the air.

