Ina's images are bewitching in their eerie quietude, and make me think if I were to enter them I'd somehow be living in a Douglas Coupland story about the end of the world. When viewing the complete series one cannot help but recall Anna Gakell's photographs, which makes for an interesting juxtaposition.
What if, at the end of the world, the planet were overrun with identically clad nymphettes?
