The Tits Quota, As Enforced by Celestine

Somewhere between genuine enthusiasm and sheer habit, this journal developed a rule: no front page without exposed female chest. Call it a public health initiative—tits keep you healthy, allegedly, or something like that. Today’s contributor to my continued wellbeing is Celestine, a twenty-one-year-old with messy hair from Washington D.C.—the actual capital, the one where the president lives, not New York.

She hates cheese, loves Kill Hannah, has a soft spot for men who aren’t afraid to properly throw her around, and cannot survive without sex and cheap vodka. The vodka part I’d argue with—the cheap stuff gives me a headache before I even finish the glass—but the general attitude is sound. She models for SuicideGirls and is simultaneously studying design at the International Academy. Posing naked and getting a degree. Multitasking at its finest.