There’s a particular kind of woman who understands that visibility is not the same as power and then builds both.Corrie Yee is one of them. With over 2 million followers on Instagram and 3 million across her social catalog and a portfolio spanning global publications and brand campaigns, the Los Angeles based model, entrepreneur, and digital force has cultivated more than just an audience; she's built a system. One rooted in discipline, self-awareness, and an unapologetic refusal to be underestimated. Words/Editor In Chief: Angel Neal Photo credit: Reinhardt Kenneth But before the algorithm, before the brand deals, before the aesthetic there was a girl in a small town in New Mexico, flipping through magazines and quietly deciding her life would look different. “I would always just look at these girls in these magazines, and I thought, I want to be that girl,” Corrie recalls. “I never really thought that I could accomplish something like that.I just knew that’s what I wanted to do.”  That quiet certainty, part ambition, part defiance became the blueprint. In an industry built on perception, Corrie is acutely aware of how often she’s been misunderstood. As a woman of Chinese heritage navigating fashion and media, she acknowledges the nuance of identity but also the assumptions that come with beauty. “I think being an attractive woman can often mislead people into thinking that they aren’t as intelligent, that things are handed to them easily,” she says. “And I’ve never had anything handed to me.”  That misreading of her intelligence, her work ethic, her story became fuel. Bullied growing up and consistently told she wouldn’t make it in Los Angeles, Corrie learned early that rejection could either define you or refine you. She chose the latter. “My entire life, people told me I couldn’t do something and that just gave me that drive to be like, you know what,I can do this.” Corrie’s evolution from model to entrepreneur didn’t come from aspiration alone it came from experience. And not all of it was good. “After working for so many other people and having bad experiences, that made me realize that I want to be my own brand and do my own thing.”  At one point, she co-founded an all women’s social media agency born out of shared frustrations and a desire to create something safer, more collaborative, and more equitable. Though the collective eventually disbanded as its members outgrew it, the intention never left her. Now, Corrie is thinking beyond herself again this time with a clearer vision. “I want to get back into mentoring women, creating a supportive group where you can learn from one another and grow together.”  Because for Corrie, success isn’t just about building it’s about bringing others with you. Scroll through her Instagram and you’ll find polished visuals, elevated styling, and a lifestyle that feels aspirational yet attainable. What you won’t see? The infrastructure behind it. “There are no days off,” she says plainly. “I go through emails, work with my PR, shoot content, go to the gym, my fitness routine alone is a full-time job.”  In an era where influence is often mistaken for ease, Corrie dismantles the illusion.This is not passive success, it’s active, intentional, and relentless. “I have to constantly reach out to people and not think, ‘Oh, they’re just going to come to me because I have a following.’”  Because the truth is: the doors don’t stay open unless you keep walking through them. Long before content creation became currency, Corrie was an artist. A scholarship student at New Mexico State University, she studied ceramics and painting disciplines that now quietly inform everything she creates. “It really is an art when you’re shooting; from your hair, your makeup, your outfits, the lighting, the setting,” she explains. “I come up with a lot of things on my own.”  This is what separates content from composition. Corrie doesn’t just post what she constructs. In an industry obsessed with appearance, Corrie’s relationship with fitness is rooted in consistency, not perfection. A former cheerleader with a long standing commitment to movement, her approach is less about aesthetics and more about alignment. “If I don’t work out, I feel icky. It’s just a lifestyle for me.”  But she’s equally candid about the mental toll of constant comparison in the digital age. “Seeing all these beautiful people every day messes with your head,” she admits. “What keeps me grounded is having strong people around me, my team, my friends, my family.”  In other words: wellness isn’t just physical, it’s protected. While many creatives fear the rise of artificial intelligence, Corrie is leaning in. Hard. “I love it, anything you don’t understand can be scary,” she says. “So I’ve made it a point to study it and integrate it into my content.”  From AI-generated imagery to automated business systems, she sees technology not as a threat but as leverage. “It’s led me into better brand deals, a higher following, it gives you all the information you possibly need.”  For Corrie, the future isn’t something to react to, it's something to master. Ask Corrie what success looks like now, and her answer has nothing to do with luxury for luxury’s sake. Instead, it’s deeply personal. “Success to me is being able to share my wealth with others and see them happy,” she says.  Every year, she takes her mother, her biggest supporter, on a trip anywhere in the world she chooses.From a woman who had never left the country to one now traveling internationally, those moments mean more than any metric. “Seeing her proud and happy, that’s success to me.” There’s a moment every self made woman recognizes the shift from survival to sovereignty.For Corrie, it was simple. “I knew I was stepping into my power when I didn’t have to clock in anywhere, when I became my own boss.”  No uniform. No permission. No ceiling. Just ownership. Perhaps the most telling part of Corrie’s evolution isn’t what she gained but what she let go of. “The number one rule I had to unlearn is thinking I knew everything,” she says. “The minute I realized I’m not the smartest person in the room, that’s when I grew.”  Humility, it turns out, is the real power move. Corrie knows someone is watching her story the same way she once watched others quietly, curiously, hoping. Her advice? Direct. Unfiltered. Protective. “Don’t trust anyone, be very selective with who you work with,” she says. “And make sure you have someone you can trust and lean on.”  Because the dream is real but so are the pitfalls. At its core, Disrupshion has always been about women who refuse to follow the script. Corrie Yee doesn’t just fit that definition, she expands it. She’s not just building a brand.She’s building infrastructure. She’s building community. She’s building power. And this time, she’s doing it on her own terms. To keep up with all things Corrie follow her journey at @corrieyee !

Curtis Golden isn’t interested in playing it safe and he makes that clear before the conversation even begins. When asked about the lack of a traditional media kit, he doesn’t deflect. Instead, he leans in. “It’s Disrupshion Magazine, I don’t want to be traditional and give safe, normal answers. Let’s turn it up.” Words/Editor In Chief: Angel Neal Photography: J.T.Photos Stylist Dorian Jihad Assisted by Nyhiem Hearts Model: Dafne Effect That tone sets the foundation for a conversation rooted in reclamation of identity, of narrative, and most importantly, of talent. Best known for his appearances on Bad Boys: Los Angeles  and other reality based programming, Curtis Golden is fully aware of the box that reality television can place around its stars. While he acknowledges he was “accurately represented,” he’s quick to point out that accuracy doesn’t always equal fullness. The layers that make an artist dynamic, especially one rooted in music, don't always translate in a format built for conflict. He explains that reality TV, by design, prioritizes drama over depth. And while it served as an entry point, it didn’t fully capture who he is or what he brings to the table creatively. There’s a quiet frustration there but also clarity. He knows exactly what was missed. At its core, reality television was never meant to be the destination. For Curtis, it was always the introduction. And now, he’s focused on what comes next. Curtis Golden isn’t just shifting gears he’s redirecting the entire narrative. Music, he says, has always been his first passion, and now he’s stepping into it with intention. He reflects on his time on Bad Boys , where he contributed to the show’s theme song alongside cast members, an early glimpse into his artistry that audiences quickly picked up on. According to him, the feedback was clear: listeners recognized his strength. “If you look at the feedback, most people said I’m the best rapper on that show.” It’s a statement rooted in confidence, but also in awareness. Curtis knows what people are saying and more importantly, he knows what he’s capable of delivering. Now , he’s building on that momentum. From releasing new music to performing on New York’s iconic Hot 97, Curtis is actively positioning himself beyond the confines of reality TV. These aren’t just appearances, they're strategic moves toward longevity.And he’s not limiting himself to one lane. While music remains his foundation, he’s also exploring modeling and acting, two spaces he admits he’s growing more passionate about. It’s less about reinvention and more about expansion. There’s an unspoken expectation that comes with reality television fame: that it’s temporary. That it fades. That it doesn’t always translate into something sustainable. Curtis is aware of that narrative and he’s actively pushing against it. He shares that many people expected him to “fall off” or be forgotten, like so many others who cycle through the reality TV ecosystem. But he’s not interested in becoming part of that pattern. He’s here to disrupt it. And for him, that word disrupshion  isn’t just thematic. It’s personal. “Disruption means to interrupt or break. That’s what I’m doing this year. I’m breaking down the door in the industry. They gotta let me in.” It’s not a passive mindset. It’s forceful. Intentional. And rooted in belief. With visibility comes opinion and Curtis approaches that reality with a level of detachment that feels necessary for survival in the public eye. He doesn’t romanticize it. Instead, he keeps it simple: “Some people will like you and some people won’t. Once you accept that, you’ll be fine.” It’s a grounded perspective, one that suggests he’s learned to separate external validation from internal direction. And in an industry where perception can easily distort identity, that separation is critical. When asked to describe his current chapter in one word, Curtis doesn’t hesitate. “Golden era.” It’s both a play on his name and a declaration of where he believes he stands on the edge of something bigger. A moment of alignment between risk and reward. Because for Curtis Golden, choosing this path wasn’t without uncertainty. Walking away from a “normal job” to chase something intangible requires a level of belief that not everyone understands. But now, he says, it’s starting to pay off. Curtis doesn’t over-explain what’s coming. He keeps it open ended, almost intentionally so. “God has big plans for me. I’m just getting started, stay tuned.” And maybe that’s the point. This isn’t a fully realized story, it's a transition. A pivot. A moment where the narrative is still being written, but the direction is finally his to control. One thing is clear: Curtis Golden doesn’t want to be remembered as a reality TV personality. He wants to be recognized as an artist. And this time, he’s making sure you don’t miss it. Wearing: Jacket:Saint Perry Pant & Shirt: @ hardcore.fashion Model: Dafne Effect Wearing Tie: @katandclarese Dress: @ tenzerothree.co Jacket:@antonleather Pant & Shirt: @ hardcore.fashion Sneakers:@TheConfessional Showroom

Jordan Coleman is moving differently, in an industry that often rewards noise, speed, and spectacle. Instead she’s a Florida Girl on the rise moving intentionally, quietly, and with a discipline that feels almost radical. Editor In Chief/Words @angel_stylistbehavior Angel Neal Photographer : @jonnymarlow Jonny Marlow Styling : @thestylistguy Ron Jeffries Hair : @takishahair Takisha Sturdivant-Drew Makeup : @kymmyizabeauty Kym Nicole Oubre Currently starring as Cheyenne Barnes in Tyler Perry’s Sistas, Coleman enters a world already in motion, ten seasons deep, a loyal audience firmly attached, and a rhythm long established. For many actors, stepping into that kind of ecosystem can feel like disruption by default. For Jordan, it required something else entirely: restraint, awareness, and trust. “It was a little scary at first,” she admits. Not because she doubted her ability but because she understood the weight of what came before her. A show that is, as she describes it, “a well-oiled machine.” Her role wasn’t just to perform, it was to integrate. And yet, Cheyenne is anything but subtle. Cheyenne Barnes enters Sistas  like a spark, unpredictable, emotionally charged, and, at times, deeply unsettling. But what makes Coleman’s portrayal compelling isn’t the chaos, it’s the intention behind it. She doesn’t play Cheyenne as a caricature. She plays her as someone we recognize. Beneath the polished exterior, perfect hair, curated style, undeniable presence, there’s fracture. There’s avoidance. There’s pain that hasn’t yet found language. Jordan understood that immediately. She speaks about the duality with clarity: the idea that someone can appear completely put together while internally unraveling. That tension became the foundation of her performance. The challenge, however, wasn’t understanding Cheyenne, it was translating that truth in a way audiences could feel without immediately rejecting her. “How do you take someone who is overly confident, messy, and chaotic,” she reflects, “and still make people understand there’s something deeper happening?” The answer lies in patience. In layers. In allowing the audience to catch up. Because as Jordan subtly reminds us there’s a little bit of Cheyenne in everyone. For Coleman, acting isn’t about interpretation,it’s about removal. “No one cares what Jordan Coleman thinks,” she says plainly. And in that statement lies her entire philosophy. To her, the work begins when ego ends. Every character exists in their own world, with their own logic, their own truth. Her job is not to filter it, but to honor it. That means stripping away judgment, opinion, and even identity to fully step into someone else’s experience. It ’s a practice sharpened through years of training, from the emotional depth of Ivana Chubbuck to the spontaneity of Upright Citizens Brigade. One taught her how to access feelings. The other taught her how to release control. Together, they created balance. “I can pull from emotion when I need it,” she explains, “but I can also let go and trust the moment.” That trust is evident in her work, especially in a collaborative environment like Sistas , where scenes evolve in real time, dialogue shifts, and instinct becomes just as important as preparation. Off screen, Jordan’s life mirrors the same intentionality she brings to her craft. There’s a rhythm to it, one she refuses to disrupt, even as her visibility grows. “I still eat the same two rice cakes with walnut butter and boiled eggs,” she says with a laugh. “I still go to the gym. I still call my mom. I still go to acting class.”In a culture that often equates success with immediate elevation, new cars, new lifestyles, new identities, Jordan is choosing consistency instead. Because for her, discipline is not a restriction. It’s freedom. “Things change quickly, and you can’t control it,” she explains. “So I’m going to control as much as I can for as long as I can.” It’s this grounded approach that allows her to stay ready, not just for opportunities, but for the responsibility that comes with them. She speaks openly about mental preparation, about journaling, meditation, hot yoga, about creating space within herself so she can continue to receive what’s meant for her. “You have to be grounded to keep receiving.”   That discipline extends into her physical life as well. Whether it’s Muay Thai, strength training, or yoga, Jordan views movement as more than fitness, it’s mental conditioning. A way to build resilience, confidence, and emotional access. “There’s this tenacity you build,” she says. “You start telling yourself, ‘I can do this. I’m strong enough.’ And that carries into everything.” That mindset shift from doubt to belief has transformed not only how she trains, but how she performs. Where fear once existed, there is now trust. Trust in her preparation.Trust in her purpose. Trust in the fact that she belongs. Travel, too, plays a vital role in how Jordan understands people and by extension, the characters she portrays. From Bali to beyond, she seeks out not just places, but perspectives. Observing how others live, what they value, how they connect. In many ways, it’s an ongoing study of humanity. “You start to realize how different and how similar we all are,” she says. That awareness deepens her work. It expands her emotional vocabulary. It allows her to approach storytelling with a broader, more empathetic lens. Because ultimately, acting for Jordan isn’t about visibility, it’s about connection. At Disrupshion, we often ask what it means to break molds to challenge systems, to shift narratives, to disrupt expectation. Jordan’s answer is unexpected in its simplicity. “I don’t feel like I have to try too hard to disrupt,” she says. “My energy and my craft do that for me.” There’s no performance in it. No forced rebellion. Just authenticity. She believes disruption doesn’t have to be loud; it can be rooted in something as fundamental as kindness. As for consistency. As being a “beam of light in a chaotic world.” And maybe that’s what makes it powerful. Because in an industry and a world that often rewards extremes, choosing to be grounded, intentional, and genuinely good might be the most disruptive act of all. When asked how she hopes to be remembered, Jordan doesn’t speak about fame, accolades, or status. She speaks about feeling. She wants audiences to trust that when they see her name attached to a project, they will experience something real. Something honest. Something handled with care. “I want people to know they’re going to feel something,” she says. And perhaps that’s the clearest indication of where she’s headed not just as an actress, but as a force within culture.Not chasing attention.Not chasing noise. But building something lasting one truthful performance at a time.She’s just getting started. To keep up with all things Jordan make sure to follow her here @jordan_coleman.

There are some stories that don’t just ask to be heard, they demand it. For LaFaye Baker, that demand has been decades in the making. Long before she stepped into her role as an author, Baker was already navigating spaces that weren’t built with her in mind, breaking barriers as one of the few Black women working behind the scenes in Hollywood as a stunt performer. But it wasn’t just the lack of representation that stayed with her. It was the silence. Words by Angel Neal Photography By Malcolm Ali “As a stunt woman I noticed that there weren't that many people of color, especially young girls, that were actually working behind the scenes,” Baker shares. “So I felt like it was my responsibility to educate young girls and give back.” That responsibility would evolve into something far greater than mentorship. It would become a movement. You’re Not Listening To.... What I Have to Say  is not just a title it’s a confrontation. A call-out. A truth many young women have been carrying long before they had the words to express it. At its core, the book is a collection of 25 first person stories from girls ages 12 to 18 raw, unfiltered accounts of depression, bullying, trauma, illness, identity, and survival. But what makes this anthology different isn’t just the stories themselves, it's the intention behind them. “I think it's important because there are so many girls that have stories and they don't know how to share them,” Baker explains. “And there are other girls out there that need to know that whatever you're going through, someone else has gone through it and you can overcome it.”  The stories are not softened for comfort. They are presented as they are honest, heavy, and necessary. From a young girl battling ovarian cancer at just nine years old, to another navigating the loss of a parent to overdose, to survivors of abuse and systemic hardship, each narrative is a mirror and for many readers, a lifeline. What Baker has created lives at the intersection of healing and activism and she’s intentional about both. “Healing is really where I am,” she says. “I just want girls to understand that suicide is not an option.”  In a generation shaped by hyper visibility, comparison culture, and digital pressure, Baker is witnessing a dangerous pattern: young women tying their worth to timelines that were never meant to define them. “If they don’t succeed by 30, they feel like they’re a failure and that’s where we find suicide and depression entering,” she explains. Her response isn’t just awareness, it's action. Through her nonprofit, Diamond in the RAW , and now through this book, Baker is building spaces where young women are not only seen, but equipped with tools, language, and community. In a world where “check on your strong friends” has become a social media mantra, Baker challenges us to go deeper.  “I think therapy is key but also observation,” she says. “A lot of times we’re not paying attention.”  Support, in her eyes, is not passive. It’s active, intentional, and sometimes uncomfortable. It’s noticing the silence. Asking the second question. Creating environments where honesty feels safe. For young women searching for their voice, her advice is both simple and powerful:“Be resilient, journal your thoughts and have someone you trust that you can talk to.”  Perhaps the most powerful layer of Baker’s work is this: she is building what she never had. “I didn’t have any mentors growing up,” she reflects. “So I just felt it was important to help young girls strive and reach their pinnacle.”  That intention is embedded in every part of the book even in its structure. Designed to be interactive, readers are encouraged not just to absorb the stories, but to respond to them to journal, reflect, and begin writing their own. Because for Baker, this isn’t just about storytelling. It’s about transformation. Nearly a decade in the making, You’re Not Listening To.... What I Have to Say  is only the beginning. Baker is already expanding the conversation through new initiatives like Vertical Visions , a program encouraging young girls to document their realities through film and digital storytelling turning everyday experiences into narrative power. “I’m just teaching them how to play the game to win,” she says. It’s a philosophy rooted in lived experience and one she’s determined to pass on. If there’s one thing Baker wants every girl to walk away with, it’s this: Resilience is not optional, it's essential. And your voice? It matters, even when the world isn’t listening. Or, as she puts it:“Never give up, they need people that look like them to understand that they can do it too.” You can purchase your copy on Amazon here at, You're Not Listening to.... What I Have To Say .

Brian Jordan Jr. is one of them.The kind of artist who doesn’t just perform, he builds worlds. Long before the cameras of Sistas captured his now beloved portrayal of Maurice Webb, before the rapid fire scripts and cultural conversations, there was theater raw, immediate, and sacred. For Jordan, it wasn’t just a starting point. It was the blueprint . Words by ANGEL NEAL Photography by JAIVRON JOSEPH “Theater, to me, is the most revealing and powerful form of performance,” he says. “It’s a medium that requires an actor to create a world so vividly with your body and your voice that the person sitting in the same room feels like they’re watching something somewhere else.” That philosophy of creation, of transformation, of truth has followed him from Southern stages to national screens. And in many ways, it explains everything. His time at NYU Tisch and years spent in theater didn’t just teach him how to perform, they taught him how to build from the inside out. “Theater is a medium that requires an actor to create a world,” he says. “You don’t have the luxury of elaborate sets, you are  the set, the environment, the energy.”  That level of responsibility of embodiment is what Jordan refers to as the great separator. “It’s a way to separate the boys from the men,” he adds, without hesitation. And in that separation lies a deeper truth: theater doesn’t allow you to hide. There are no cuts. No edits. No second takes. Just presence. It ’s why so many of the industry’s most revered actors share that same lineage. And it’s why, even now, Jordan carries theater with him not as nostalgia, but as infrastructure. Jordan’s story begins, like many Southern narratives, with sports. Raised between Baton Rouge and New Orleans in a deeply athletic family, football wasn’t a question, it was an expectation. But even then, something didn’t quite align. “I excelled, but I did not love it ever,” he says plainly. What followed wasn’t a dramatic pivot; it was a quiet, radical decision. “I decided that I wanted to be happy, which is kind of unpopular when you’re trying to survive as a Black man in America.” That sentence lands heavier than it reads. Because in a culture that often equates survival with sacrifice, Jordan chose something else: joy as intention. Not accidental. Not aspirational. Intentional. And that intention would shape everything from his training at NYU Tisch to the stages he graced before transitioning into television and film. If theater was his foundation, then Tyler Perry’s world became his proving ground. Working on Sistas  is not for the faint of heart. The pace is legendary, often exceeding 100 pages a day. “We do at least 100 pages a day, there’s been days where we’ve done 140 pages,” Jordan reveals. He describes it like athletic conditioning but for the mind. “When you lift heavy intellectually, it helps your mind to be strong.” What once felt overwhelming has now become instinct.“I was stressed out in the beginning but now it’s second nature.” He calls it the “Tyler Perry technique”, a system that demands discipline, precision, and endurance. And like any rigorous training, it leaves a mark. Not just in skill but in identity. Maurice Webb could have easily been reduced to a trope. In lesser hands, he might have been. But Jordan refused that route. “I wasn’t trying to play a stereotype, I pulled from real people to create a real person.” Instead, he built Maurice from memory from family, from community, from lived experience. A godmother. A grandmother. Friends. Voices that existed long before the script. Because to Jordan, representation isn’t about visibility alone it’s about truth. “I find that sometimes marginalized groups can get a caricature display, I wanted to ground him.” And grounding Maurice meant allowing him to evolve. What began as comic relief has deepened into something far more complex: grief, loyalty, fear, love.“It became time for him to find seriousness in the purpose of his friendship,” Jordan explains.  That shift didn’t just change the character, it expanded the narrative of what audiences expect, and deserve, to see. Jordan doesn’t shy away from the weight of visibility. He leans into it.“It is the responsibility of the work that I do to shift narratives, to reinvent them and create them.”His traditional, disciplined, intentional stands in contrast to the increasingly fast tracked paths of modern fame. No shortcuts. No viral moment. Just training, work, and time. “I went to college, I went to drama school, I did theater… it worked for me.” And in that, he offers something rare: a redefinition of success.Not just for Black artists but for artists, period. If Maurice is his present, then RILEY: The Mixtape  is his future. Described as a love letter to HBCU culture, the project is more than a musical, it's a mission. What began as a personal project written with himself in mind as the lead has evolved into something far greater: a cultural offering, a reclamation, a bridge. “I wrote it for myself to star in,” he shares. “A young Black football player choosing an HBCU to honor his mother’s legacy.”  But RILEY  is not just a story. It is a world that pulses with the rhythm of marching bands, the energy of step teams, the intimacy of student unions, and the layered identity of Black collegiate life. And Jordan is fiercely protective of that world. “It looks like welcoming Black people into a space they have felt shut out of forever,” he says of Broadway. Through marching bands, Greek life, football, and community, RILEY  is designed to meet audiences where they are and bring them into spaces that historically excluded them.That tension between authenticity and accessibility, culture and commerce is at the heart of the project. It’s also what makes RILEY  so necessary. “I’m determined that it does not lose its identity, when you commercialize something, it’s easy for that to happen.” It’s taken nearly a decade to develop. And still, he waits patiently, precise, unwavering. Because for Jordan, timing isn’t just about readiness. It’s about alignment. Because Broadway, for all its prestige, has not always been a welcoming space for the very cultures it often borrows from. Jordan knows this. And instead of asking for entry, he’s redefining the door. From workshops at the Chadwick A. Boseman College of Fine Arts to intentional engagement with HBCU communities, RILEY  is being built with the audience not just for them. “I want the hands on it to be from an HBCU graduate, someone who understands what it means to stand in a student union,” he says.  Nearly a decade in the making, the project reflects a level of patience that feels almost radical in today’s industry. “We’re in year nine… and they say it can take ten years.” But Jordan isn’t rushing it. Because for him, this isn’t just about opening night.It ’s about preserving the soul of the story long before the curtain ever rises. If there is a thesis to Brian Jordan Jr.’s journey, it might be this: “Don’t settle. Please.” He says it not as advice but as lived experience.“I’d rather see the end result of doing what I want to do instead of the result of not.” Nine years into building RILEY . A decade on television. A career built brick by brick. “You’re talking to someone who’s been waiting nine years… I didn’t give up.” There’s no illusion in his voice, no romanticizing of the grind. Just clarity.“You can’t control any of this… but you can do the work.” When asked what he wants his legacy to be, Jordan doesn’t speak in accolades. He speaks in impact. “I want my legacy to be reflective,  that it shifted the times for people that look like me.” He speaks of Black women who raised him. Of mentors like Debbie Allen. Of the lineage of storytellers who made space for him to exist. And then, simply: “I want people to say, he did it.” Not perfectly. Not easily. But fully.Brian Jordan Jr. is not just navigating an industry he’s reimagining it. From Southern roots to Broadway ambition, from sitcom timing to theatrical depth, from representation to reinvention his work exists at the intersection of discipline and desire. And perhaps that’s what makes him so compelling. He is not chasing moments. He is building something that lasts. To keep up with all things Brian Jordan Jr. Make sure to follow him here @brianjordanjr .

This spring, the beauty industry’s rising force, the Hair Education Beauty Summit (HEBS), returns to New Jersey for a two-day experience redefining what a trade show can be. Taking place May 3–4, 2026 at the Meadowlands Expo Center in Secaucus, HEBS brings together a dynamic mix of artists, educators, entrepreneurs, and innovators shaping the future of beauty. Following its successful debut, HEBS expands this year with elevated programming through advanced education sessions, high-energy competitions, immersive brand activations, and powerful networking opportunities. With over $60,000 in prizes, celebrity judges, and appearances from industry leaders, the summit positions itself as both a cultural moment and a career catalyst. Rooted in celebrating textured hair artistry and innovation, HEBS creates space for professionals across hair, makeup, nails, and fashion to showcase their craft while building meaningful industry connections. From live demonstrations to halftime style showcases and a signature black-tie yacht experience overlooking the New York City skyline, the weekend blends education with experience in a way that feels both intentional and inspiring. As the global beauty industry continues its rapid growth, HEBS stands as a vital platform one that not only highlights talent but actively invests in the next generation. Get your tickets and find out how you can get involved right here: www.TheHebs.com @ haireducationbeautysummit .

The Denim of now came to Milan in 2026. Words:  Lorianne Wilbur Article Edits:  Laura Casella Photo:  Courtesy of Diesel via Instagram Diesel is redefining what it means to wear jean material. Imagine elegant belle skirts that are denim but don’t appear so in their fit or form. A tulle skirt piece that again seems made from jeans yet fits nothing like it traditionally would: and made beautiful. Photo:  Courtesy of Diesel via Instagram Tight fitting blue tights with sexy heels fits into this classy look. It’s all denim and every piece looked good. Photo:  Courtesy of Diesel via Instagram Photo:  Courtesy of Diesel via Instagram The show was a presentation of denim as art and showcased with a paint-splattered beige vest over a cool, multi-colored lacey skirt and bright red leather boots. The collection featured colored white collared shirts ranging from sensually plunging V-necks to more modestly buttoned styles, showcasing the true versatility of this material. Photo:  Courtesy of Diesel via Instagram This look is made cooler by the idea that these outfits may be recycled and used over again. Indeed, along the runway sidelines are recycled-looking kick knacks reinforcing the message that recycling is cool in an age where this sentiment is ever-present.    Diesel has evolved what it means to wear denim in 2026 by reinstating the notion that denim is now elegant for the environment.

Philipp Plein braced for fall with a versatile 2026 collection showcased at Milan Fashion Week, telling Vogue, “Bling is coming back; it’s definitely time for that.” Words: Laura Casella Photo: Giovanni Mocchetti/Courtesy of Philipp Plein Models emerged on a white marble staircase which resembled snow, blurring the line between the cold seasons. Utilizing bold colors, dazzling fabrics, heavy jackets, jaguars, boots and fur, this collection is built for the chill while staying true to Plein’s high-octane style. Plein continued, stating that the collection served as a “journey from daytime to evening,” a notion that is clearly felt throughout this extensive range. Photo:   Giovanni Mocchetti/Courtesy of Philipp Plein Plein emphasized with each unique entrance that daytime looks deserve just as much shine as the night stars. This revival is showcased through an attention-grabbing short, bedazzled long-sleeve dress featuring a black panther and falling palm fond leaves. The look is grounded by tall, sparkly black boots to keep the aesthetic and the legs warm. Photo:   Giovanni Mocchetti/Courtesy of Philipp Plein Making casual wear glamorous, a male model arrived in an autumn-brown varsity jacket featuring "Plein" emblazoned on the right with striking black and orange jaguars patched on the sleeves. Paired with a clean white undershirt and brown pants, the ensemble successfully elevates a classic silhouette into something high-fashion. Photo:   Giovanni Mocchetti/Courtesy of Philipp Plein As the collection transitioned to the evening part of the journey, a dress emerged that captured the essence of nighttime mystery. A timeless look made relevant to this collection was a long, shimmery black gown with long sleeves, a deep plunging V-neck and a thigh-high slit that revealed a hidden jaguar print on the inside. Accessorized with a clutch bag featuring a dollar sign, the outfit symbolized high glamour and timeless elegance. Photo:   Giovanni Mocchetti/Courtesy of Philipp Plein The men’s evening look arrived simple and classically stunning, offering a crisp and formal alternative to the heavier daytime layers. The model looked vibrant wearing a bright white turtleneck sweater layered under a tailored white wool coat. Paired with light grey pants and completed with white shoes, it was a blank canvas featuring nocturnal sophistication. Photo:   Giovanni Mocchetti/Courtesy of Philipp Plein The women’s coats astonished the audience starting with a classic European white and brown fur hooded coat, styled with a high slit and black boots, providing a regal component to evening wear. Another houndstooth coat followed, framing the model's decolletage with brown and orange fur that echoed the jaguar theme. The deep plum heeled boots completed the piece, serving as a reminder of the classic fall style.   Through this seamless blend of cold-ready textures and unapologetic shine, Plein proves that whether under the autumn sun or the city lights, the pursuit of glamour never sleeps.

At Milan Fashion Week, Gucci opened a new chapter under Demna Gvasalia and it felt both purposeful yet organic. Words: Amaya Capel Article Edits:  Laura Casella Photo: Courtesy of Gucci via Instagram The lineup with more than 80 looks introduced a vision that was clean, sleek and sharply fitted. In a message shared directly to Gucci’s Instagram audience, Gvasalia offered a rare, personal note on his direction for the house. Writing to followers on the brand’s official account, he explained his desire for Gucci to “become lighter, more refined, more emotional. Less intellectual, more feeling.” That shift was undeniable from the first look. Photo: Courtesy of Gucci via Instagram This was not a loud reinvention, but rather controlled. Jackets and trousers were tailored with exactness, hugging the form and sculpted perfectly onto each silhouette. Nothing appeared excessive, yet nothing seemed plain or basic. The simplicity carried weight throughout the entire show. Each piece looked considered, as though it was made specifically fit for the person wearing it rather than pulled from a rack. The result was polished to perfection. Photo: Courtesy of Gucci via Instagram Sequins also made a debut in a way that felt subtle. Each piece shimmered with purpose. A silver mini dress was the immediate eye catcher as it skimmed the frame with confidence, proving that texture does not need theatrics to command attention. Photo: Courtesy of Gucci via Instagram Outerwear also played a significant role as a defining statement. Collared coats, some oversized and some elongated to sweeping proportions, grounded the collection. They shaped the body with structure while keeping an effortless flow in movement. There was strength in their simplicity. Worn over layers or leather pants, they brought to life what Gvasalia shared on Gucci’s Instagram: “Heritage and fashion are not opposites, but lovers in coexistence.” Photo: Courtesy of Gucci via Instagram Accessories were sharp and purposeful. Bags added that perfect balance to the silhouettes, acting less as decoration and more as the finishing touch. They completed the look without overwhelming it. What made this debut compelling was its clarity. This Gucci debut felt both poised and elevated, timeless yet modern. Gvasalia created a vision that was assured and fully formed. If this is the beginning of his story at Gucci, it is one built on control, emotion and a renewed understanding of what it means for heritage and modernity to move together.

From R&B heartthrob to powerhouse creative, Marques Houston has been captivating audiences for more than three decades. From his days serenading us with Immature  and IMX  to his breakout TV role as Roger on Sister, Sister , Houston has evolved into an unstoppable storyteller. And with his latest project, the gripping sci-fi thriller RUN, he’s proving he’s nowhere near done rewriting the script. RUN   , from Footage Films hits theaters August 29th and takes audiences on a wild ride filled with suspense, action, and unexpected twists. Words by Angel Neal Marques not only stars as Andre, a man forced to make an unthinkable sacrifice for love, but he also co-wrote the film, blending heart-pounding survival with emotional storytelling in a way that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Today , we’r e diving into his creative process, what it took to bring RUN  to life, and how he continues to reinvent himself both in film and in music. “This film is about pushing limits for the characters and for me as a creator,” Marques tells Disrupshion Magazine. “I wanted to challenge myself, to tell a story that makes people sit up and really think, ‘What would I do in this situation?’” Directed and written by longtime collaborator Chris Stokes, RUN brings together the creative powerhouse behind Footage Films. Stokes and Houston have built a reputation for delivering bold, unexpected stories, and this project is no exception. “Chris and I have worked together for years,” Marques shares. “He knows how to craft suspense and tension in a way that really keeps audiences locked in. With RUN, he pushed us all creatively it’s a ride from start to finish.” The film’s synergy between Stokes’ direction and Houston’s production vision, combined with the powerhouse performances from dives headfirst into high-stakes suspense, following a man caught in a deadly game of survival where nothing is as it seems. “It’s definitely the most intense project I’ve been part of,” he admits. “We wanted to blend action, sci-fi, and emotion in a way that feels fresh. It’s not just about explosions it’s about humanity, choices, and consequences.” RUN isn’t just packed with suspense it delivers a cinematic nod to classic horror and thriller traditions, including a touch of scream queen energy. Houston was intentional about casting powerful female leads like Drew Sidora, Erica Mena, Claudia Jordan, Erica Pinkett, and Annie Ilonzeh to bring intensity and depth to the film’s most high-stakes moments. “I’ve always loved those classic thriller vibes,” Marques says, smiling. “We wanted the women in this film to be strong, layered, and unforgettable not just victims, but forces that drive the story forward.” He credits the cast for elevating RUN into more than just a survival story: “When you’ve got actresses like Drew, Erica, and Annie, you know you’re working with talent that can deliver emotion and edge. They brought that scream-queen energy but flipped it on its head they’re not running from the danger, they’re redefining it.” This gives the film a stylish balance between adrenaline-pumping thrills and female-driven power, making RUN feel just as unpredictable as it is cinematic. But beyond the big-screen adrenaline, RUN is another milestone in Houston’s ongoing transformation from performer to power player. Over the years, he’s built a reputation for taking creative control of his career, directing, producing, and writing stories that reflect his evolving perspective. “I’ve been blessed to grow up in this industry, and now I’m focused on creating opportunities for myself, for my team, and for other creatives who look like me,” he says. “At this point, it’s bigger than just me.” Still, fans of his music days shouldn’t worry Houston hasn’t forgotten where he came from. He credits his early years in R&B with teaching him discipline, storytelling, and how to connect emotionally with audiences. Those skills, he says, are just as vital on set as they are in the studio. As for what’s next, Houston hints that RUN is only the beginning of a bigger vision for Footage Films and the types of projects he wants to bring to life. “We’re building something special,” he teases. “Stories that are different, stories that hit home that’s what drives me now.” Marques Houston continues to push creative boundaries and keep us guessing at what he’ll do next. With RUN hitting theaters August 29th, audiences can expect an emotional, action-packed ride that proves he’s just as powerful behind the camera as he is on-screen. And with new music on the way including his latest single ‘Hold On’ featuring Kodak Black Marques shows no signs of slowing down. Whether it’s music, movies, or storytelling, one thing’s for sure: this next chapter of his career is only just beginning.

As Hannah Cheramy evolves alongside her character in From, she opens up about navigating trauma, emotional depth, and finding herself within one of television’s most psychologically intense worlds. Interview By: Lorianne Wilbur Editor In Chief Angel Neal Photographer: Yvonne Hanson “I’ve done lots of horror. I grew up doing that, but on From  it’s obviously taken to a whole other level. It’s the biggest project I’ve ever been a part of horror on a much grander scale.” For Hannah Cheramy, horror isn’t just a genre it’s been a coming-of-age experience. Best known for her role as Julie Matthews on the hit series From , Cheramy has quite literally grown up on screen. Having stepped into the role at just 16, she has spent her formative years navigating one of television’s most psychologically demanding worlds where fear, grief, and survival collide in unsettling ways. But stepping into Julie’s world requires more than memorizing lines; it demands emotional depth. To access the heaviness of pivotal scenes, including moments of profound loss, Cheramy turns inward. “I’ll listen to music that makes me feel sad,” she shares, describing her process of tapping into Julie’s emotional state.That emotional balance between youth and trauma has been one of the most challenging aspects of the role. “The hardest part of playing Julie is keeping her youth, while also honoring everything she’s been through,” Cheramy explains. “She’s not behaving like a typical 16-year-old. She’s forced to mature quickly, having conversations with adults and stepping into situations most teenagers wouldn’t. But at the same time, she’s still a kid and that imbalance is always there.” It’s this duality that has made Julie one of the most compelling characters on the series. While some viewers have questioned her emotional intensity particularly in her strained interactions with her parents, Cheramy offers a deeper perspective. From Julie’s point of view, her reactions are shaped by trauma. Being forced into a protective, almost parental role for her younger brother, only to experience devastating loss, has left emotional scars that continue to influence how she navigates relationships. As the series evolves, so does Julie. One of the show’s more intriguing developments is her ability as a “story walker” , a mysterious power that allows her to revisit past events within the town. For Cheramy, these moments are among her favorites to film. She hints that viewers should pay close attention as this element continues to unfold, adding new layers to both the character and the show’s mythology. Despite the darkness of From , Cheramy is intentional about protecting her mental and emotional well being. She credits the close-knit environment on set working alongside actors like Harold Perrineau as a grounding force. Still, the intensity of the material can linger. In those moments, she leans into simple forms of selfcare: unwinding with lighthearted shows, spending time with loved ones, or resetting with rest. “I’ll watch something funny, go on TikTok, take a bath, or just take a nap and start fresh,” she says. Off-screen, it's the connection that keeps her grounded. Whether with family, her partner, or close friends, Cheramy values the relationships that help her stay present outside of the fictional world she inhabits.And while horror has defined much of her journey so far, she’s ready for something new.“I want to act in a comedy,” she says with a laugh. “I want to smile. I can’t cry or scream anymore. I’d love to do a rom-com where I just get to be happy.” For now, audiences will continue to watch her evolve in From , where Julie Matthews remains at the heart of its emotional and psychological core. And if there’s one thing Cheramy leaves viewers with, it’s this: pay attention. Because in a world where nothing is quite what it seems, every moment especially the ones revisited matters. To follow her journey check her out here @ hannahcheramy_ .

For some, reinvention is a choice. For Young Bae, it was survival. Before the television screens, before the ink, before the empire, there was a young woman navigating poverty, fear, and uncertainty in Seoul, South Korea. What followed was not just a move to New York City, but a complete transformation of identity, purpose, and power. Editor In Chief/Words: Angel Neal Photography: Obreezy__ Wardrobe Stylist: Dorian Jihad Hair: Virgin Island Hair Extensions Make Up: Korean Kandy Today, Young Bae stands not only as a tattoo artist and entrepreneur, but as a symbol of resilience someone who turned unimaginable hardship into a life defined by intention, growth, and legacy.Young Bae today is a woman who turned pain into power,” she tells Disrupshion. “I’m a mother, an artist, a businesswoman… and most importantly, a survivor who refused to stay broken.” Her journey to New York wasn’t glamorous it was uncertain, isolating, and deeply personal. I didn’t really have anything to start over from,” she explains. “I came here with nothing, but also with everything I never had before.” That “everything” wasn’t material it was freedom. For the first time, her life belonged to her. There were no guarantees. No safety net. No roadmap. But there was hope. And when words failed her, art spoke. “Tattooing became my voice before I ever had the words,” she says. “It gave me a way to be seen without having to explain myself.” In a world where she couldn’t yet fully communicate, her hands told stories of pain, of emotion, of survival. Tattooing didn’t just become a career; it became identity, confidence, and power. While many were introduced to Young Bae through reality television, she’s clear: that version was only a fraction of the truth. “TV only shows pieces of you,” she says. “It didn’t show my hustler side, how I’ve been a business owner since 2009. In real life, I’m Ms. Business.” What wasn’t shown were the deeper layers the trauma, the loneliness, the internal battles, and the rebuilding. Through her memoir Young Is Blessed, she reclaimed that narrative. “I told my full story unfiltered, unedited, and from my perspective,” she shares. “There’s light in it. There’s growth. There’s hope.” Because for Young Bae, storytelling is no longer just personal it’s purposeful. If survival was her foundation, healing is her evolution. And it’s not performative. It’s quiet.“Healing isn’t loud for me,” she says. “It’s in the quiet decisions I make every day to not go back to who I used to be.”After years of operating in survival mode, she’s learning what it means to truly live to feel, to set boundaries, and to choose peace. “Survival taught me how to endure. But healing taught me how to live.” That healing extends beyond herself it’s generational. “It means everything stops with me,” she says of breaking cycles. “The pain, the silence, the patterns. I refuse to pass that down to my son.” Motherhood didn’t just change her life it reshaped her identity. “Before my son, I was just trying to survive. Now, I move with purpose,” she says. Where survival once required hardness, motherhood introduced softness and a new kind of strength. “He made me more patient, more protective and honestly, he made me softer.” That duality, strength and vulnerability is something she now fully embraces. “I stopped seeing vulnerability as weakness,” she explains. “Being open, being honest, that’s real strength.” Young Bae’s evolution didn’t stop at healing it expanded into ownership. Not just of her story, but of her brand, her business, and her future. “I had to stop thinking like I was just trying to make it and start thinking like I was building something,” she says. The shift was mental before it was material. “Survival mode is reactive. A CEO mindset is intentional.” She began to see herself not just as an artist, but as a brand a force with long-term vision and impact. And perhaps most powerfully: “I never thought anyone was coming to save me.” So she built it herself. Faith has always been a constant even when nothing else was. “For me, faith is believing in something you can’t see,” she says. “I had to be a little delusional, acting like I already had the world before I actually did.” Now, that faith is quieter but deeper. Rooted in trust. In purpose. In alignment. And in understanding that every chapter no matter how painful was part of something greater. Today, Young Bae is thinking far beyond the present. She’s building a legacy. “From tattooing, to business, to storytelling. I want everything I create to inspire people to believe they can change their life,” she says. This isn’t just about success it’s about impact. “Where you start doesn’t define where you end.” For every woman who sees herself in her story for every survivor, every immigrant, every dreamer starting from nothing Young Bae leaves this: “It’s not too late. Your past doesn’t disqualify you. You’re not stuck, you’re becoming.”