Bullseye - Neo-Baroque Gay Military iPhone Case

This isn’t a phone case. It’s a ballistics tableau. A portable theater of baroque precision gone poetic. The kind of object that doesn’t protect your device—it conscripts it.

Saint Sebastian was a saint. Bullseye is a tactic. Not martyrdom—maneuver. An 18th-century illusionist who turned military drag into semiotic sabotage. The arrows do not pierce flesh. They interrupt narrative. They pin expectations like butterflies under plexiglass.

His uniform? Oxidized mint—too ceremonial to serve, too tailored to run. Gilded buttons positioned like trapdoors for secrets that only open under pressure. The collar whispers Versailles, but the gaze—blindfolded in ochre—whispers something else: I dare you to look again, and still not see me.

He's never tied down. Each spear is composed like threads of punctuation through a manifesto. None of them wound. All instruct. Conductors directing the tension of a queer symphony, scored in surveillance and powdered wigs.

He exists mid-pose, mid-century, mid-deflection. A still-life stitched from performance theory and powdered bloodlines. Put your phone inside and watch your calls reroute to Versailles’ back corridors via the Wild West's endless horizon. Your camera redirected to record velvet warrants signed in rococo ink.

Bullseye isn’t ornament. He's operatic warfare. And your phone just enlisted in an aesthetic insurgency.