Another brat essay and it’s the same, but this one is about grief so it’s not. [PHYSICAL]
BRAT is not an album. BRAT is a religion. BRAT is pop culture baptism by fire. BRAT is capitalism burning at both ends. BRAT is god. BRAT is ketamine at a funeral. BRAT is narcissism. BRAT is a generational breakdown, coated in lip gloss. BRAT is a color you can’t quite name and a lifestyle you can’t quite commit to. It’s the sugar rush and the stomachache, the fever dream and the hangover. BRAT is all of us at being the best at living at our worst—brilliant and self-sabotaging at the same time.
Another brat essay and it’s the same, but this one is about grief so it’s not. unpacks BRAT by Charli XCX as more than an album—it’s a cultural touchstone for millennial women and femmes navigating the bittersweet ache of grief and loss.
Throughout a 14-page essay, this zine explores how Brat becomes a soundtrack for mourning not just people but eras—the carefree, messy indiesleaze nights that came and went without documentation and the pre-COVID world forever lost to collective death and trauma.
Hand-bound with a safety pin (because what’s more BRAT than that?), this limited-edition zine offers a heartfelt examination of how we grieve the past while finding new ways to reclaim joy.
BRAT is not an album. BRAT is a religion. BRAT is pop culture baptism by fire. BRAT is capitalism burning at both ends. BRAT is god. BRAT is ketamine at a funeral. BRAT is narcissism. BRAT is a generational breakdown, coated in lip gloss. BRAT is a color you can’t quite name and a lifestyle you can’t quite commit to. It’s the sugar rush and the stomachache, the fever dream and the hangover. BRAT is all of us at being the best at living at our worst—brilliant and self-sabotaging at the same time.
Another brat essay and it’s the same, but this one is about grief so it’s not. unpacks BRAT by Charli XCX as more than an album—it’s a cultural touchstone for millennial women and femmes navigating the bittersweet ache of grief and loss.
Throughout a 14-page essay, this zine explores how Brat becomes a soundtrack for mourning not just people but eras—the carefree, messy indiesleaze nights that came and went without documentation and the pre-COVID world forever lost to collective death and trauma.
Hand-bound with a safety pin (because what’s more BRAT than that?), this limited-edition zine offers a heartfelt examination of how we grieve the past while finding new ways to reclaim joy.
BRAT is not an album. BRAT is a religion. BRAT is pop culture baptism by fire. BRAT is capitalism burning at both ends. BRAT is god. BRAT is ketamine at a funeral. BRAT is narcissism. BRAT is a generational breakdown, coated in lip gloss. BRAT is a color you can’t quite name and a lifestyle you can’t quite commit to. It’s the sugar rush and the stomachache, the fever dream and the hangover. BRAT is all of us at being the best at living at our worst—brilliant and self-sabotaging at the same time.
Another brat essay and it’s the same, but this one is about grief so it’s not. unpacks BRAT by Charli XCX as more than an album—it’s a cultural touchstone for millennial women and femmes navigating the bittersweet ache of grief and loss.
Throughout a 14-page essay, this zine explores how Brat becomes a soundtrack for mourning not just people but eras—the carefree, messy indiesleaze nights that came and went without documentation and the pre-COVID world forever lost to collective death and trauma.
Hand-bound with a safety pin (because what’s more BRAT than that?), this limited-edition zine offers a heartfelt examination of how we grieve the past while finding new ways to reclaim joy.
![Another brat essay and it’s the same, but this one is about grief so it’s not. [DIGITAL]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/6681ebd8ad56b256f2dc64d2/a5da8dab-9d86-4ca2-ab74-2b9adf866948/3.png)