Richard Turley

Annie Collinge has always made pictures that feel like they shouldn’t quite exist. The British photographer has spent years building a practice around the things most people walk past, objects salvaged from street markets and pavements, assembled into scenes that land somewhere between joyful and faintly wrong. It’s gotten her through the doors of Gucci and Kenzo, editorial spreads in Vice and Luncheon, and a reputation for work that’s hard to shake once you’ve seen it.

Rowan (left) and Gabi (right) of The Femcels, photographed by Bruno Mosso. The Femcels didn’t form so much as coalesce: one broken pink toy guitar, a lobby miracle, four songs recorded drunk in a single night, and suddenly London had another problem. Rowan Miles and Gabriella Turton (Gabi) talk like they make music—fast, feral, funny, allergic to sincerity—ricocheting between hymns, horny despair, indie nihilism, and the sacred fantasy of Pitchfork hating them.