Anthon and Peter play Didi and Gogo.

Samuel was pretty a genius, no doubt about that. Still, someone ventured the opinion "Waiting for Godot" could be improved. How, you ask indignant. With fashion, clearly. And youth.
Lewis Carroll's time is over babies. Sorry, Natalia. We're committed intellectuals now. Fairy-tales inspired editorials were too shallow, we want theatre now. What better than tragicomedy then? Where you who are as shrewd as I am can gather implied messages about senselessness of life, incommunicability, the identity crisis of modern times and that sort of things and astutely relate them to the fashion system.
Now we fight to prove fashion is not frivolous. Not always. And we do that with boys. Anthon Wellsjo and Peter Bruder.
And honestly I find that a marvelous idea.

"There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet." (Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot)

Editorial "His is he hour" by Andrea Spotorno. Via homotography.

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