‘’She felt a crazy solidarity with the big company of the voluntary dead.’’

New York. The exciting, glamorous Jazz Age. The time when everything had to be one big party, when you paraded your finest gown, your finest smile. All is swell. Laugh and pay attention to Expectations because they’re not going away anytime soon.

Satisfy the needs of a world that doesn’t seem to know what it wants. What about yourself and the ideas that have been wrongly construed by an absurd melting pot of pure decadence? Be pretty, be pleasant, be a ‘’good sport’’. Be blonde, be busty. Be suitable to have a lover (or many…) or marry and marry well. And don’t burden your man’s tired shoulders with your thoughts and troubles. Don’t think, don’t feel. Nobody cares for your wishes, or fears and sadness. Nobody cares about your loneliness or your need to be genuinely loved. Don’t expect promises. Drink and drink. Shut up and drink.

The Custard Heart: A wealthy woman lives in luxury, pampered by her sympathetic maid. But all her pearls and gowns and lovers cannot conceal her sadness and loneliness.

By Blonde: A harrowing story of a woman falling apart when her marriage ends due to the psychological and physical above of her husband. She starts drinking and sleeping around in a desperate attempt to be accepted by the very ones who destroyed her life. A poisoned mind, a collapsed soul…

You Were Perfectly Fine: A drunk couple is about to hopelessly regret the previous night’s bacchanalia.

‘’She could not recall the definite day that she started drinking, herself. There was nothing separate about her days. Like drops upon a window pane, they ran together and trickled away.’’

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