Frankie Hollywood claims the terracotta steps of a sun-bleached pool in Ruby Heels, her wild blonde curls framing a face set with smouldering determination. A black lace bra and criss-cross body harness cage her toned torso, opaque hold-ups with bold striped bands sheath her athletic legs, and a pair of pointed red stilettos, the set's namesake, add a lethal flash of colour at her feet. The round pool glitters turquoise behind her, a bamboo fence marks the garden boundary, and overhead the sky hangs bright and flat, turning Frankie into the sharpest thing in the frame. She sits with her elbows on her knees and her eyes on the lens, daring it to look away.

The harness loosens, the bra unclasps, and Frankie kneels on the warm tile with her natural, perky breasts bared to the overcast light, the black straps still looped around her narrow waist like a fashion editorial that forgot to stop at lingerie. Her windswept hair falls across one eye, the hold-ups cut dark lines across her toned thighs, and there is a restless energy to every pose, shoulders squared, jaw lifted, nothing given away for free. Ruby Heels is Frankie at her most fearless, all edge and attitude, the red shoes a punctuation mark on a set that refuses to whisper.