Poppy H stands legs apart and fists raised in a hot pink bodysuit with a plunging halter neckline and matching ruched opera-length gloves, looking every bit a Candy Coated prizefighter who has already won the bout. White knee-high socks pull the look from catwalk to schoolyard in the best possible way, and the white panelled wardrobe behind her serves as a blank canvas for all that electric pink. Her platinum blonde hair is swept back, her blue eyes are fierce, and her voluptuous figure fills the bodysuit to bursting, the halter straining across her décolletage while the ribcage tattoo peeks just above the neckline.

Poppy drops to the floor, legs spread wide, the pink gloves folded between her knees as she stares up at the camera with a look that dares you to underestimate her. The bodysuit unclips at the halter and peels away to expose her full, round breasts and the intricate ink that decorates her side. By the final frames, she stands with hands on hips wearing nothing but the white knee-highs, bare and unashamed, the pile of pink satin at her feet like discarded armour. The candy coating is gone, and what remains is all confidence, all curves, and entirely on her terms.