Nestled sweetly in the corner of the stable at your mom’s uncles farm, you’ll find your blushing bride to be, napping with that old gray mare. There they swap clothes and cultures, weaving yarns anew, for knitting and for chitting (chat, that is).

 

In the right light, the line between horse girl and girl horse dissolves and leaves you wondering - wait, which one is my fiancee? Better yet - can I marry both?

 

The Bridle/Bridal Waif imagines the holographic utopia where humans and horses can unite free from judgement, ridicule, and disdain. The Future Pastoral. Horsey Matrimony. The neighs have it. I now pronounce you mare and wife. Buck and Mare-y.

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