For most of us, lust usually carries the connotation of sin. An extravagant desire: libidinous, illicit, inherently immoral and oft followed by some kind of Schopenhauer sadness or regret.
“I wasn't in love with her. And she didn't love me. For me the question of love was irrelevant. What I sought was the sense of being tossed about by some raging, savage force, in the midst of which lay something absolutely crucial. I had no idea what that was. But I wanted to thrust my hand right inside her body and touch it, whatever it was.”
Writer Haruki Murakami’s words here may be a typical depiction of the carnality of passion, but what they also hint at is that great and overwhelming force of need.
The need for ‘something absolutely crucial.’
We have – as humans – just come through (and I say that optimistically like an end may actually be nigh) an intense period of restrictions on our once taken-for-granted freedoms. We’ve all been living more deeply inside our own heads than even the most reticent of us would have dreamed of and emerge starved of the energy that is delivered to us by action over thought. A diminutive version of ourselves; we are craving release.
This current mood has been described in fashion as ‘bringing sexy back’ but this issue aspires to look beyond the sensory appeal. From coverstar Zinnia Kumar’s lust for change to an exploration of sexual transmutation or the simple notion that the body knows the score, this is an ode to physicality in all its forms.
Lust as an act of self will.
Let us be there.
But I shall turn in the air
Shall rise a scream so violent
That I shall splatter the whole sky
And with my branches torn to shreds
And with the insolent jet
Of my wounded and solemn bole
I shall command the islands to be
- Aime Cesaire, Lost Body
To learn about our cover star Zinnia Kumar, read our model profile of the force for change. Experience the Lust issue in its entirety this March, available on newsstands from March 3 and through our shop. Find a stockist near you.