The feeling

When you get that feeling, you just know. Hayley Marie Coppin knows it very well. She settles onto a dark sofa draped in nothing but a length of rich amber satin, the golden fabric pooled loosely around her waist as she sits cross-legged and smiles at the camera with that radiant, completely at-ease warmth that is entirely her own. An indoor palm catches the soft light behind her, and the exposed brick and warm timber of the room set the tone perfectly: this is intimate, unhurried, and deeply beautiful. Her platinum blonde hair falls forward over her bare shoulders, a small tattoo winking at the light as she turns.

She leans back against an orange cushion and lets the amber fabric slide further, each shot more languid and luminous than the last. The set has an almost meditative quality to it: Hayley is not performing, she is simply inhabiting her own spectacular beauty with the most absolute naturalness. By the time she is stretched fully across the sofa, the amber satin nothing more than a warm pool of colour beneath her, the feeling the description promises has been delivered completely. You just know, indeed.

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