Marjorie Owens

Same corner booth, same late-night arcade, three or four nights a week, shoot in the morning or not. Marjorie brings whoever amused her most at the last party, rarely the same person twice, usually someone with no idea she models for a living. She turns up in half a cosplay, latex catching the light off the cabinets, glasses sliding down, tattoos and piercings on open display, and explains none of it. She is careful about what she gives away and wildly generous with everything else. Talking to her feels like getting a private tour of something most people only ever see photographed.