So – I decide to get back in the game…

I have decided to apply for FAT – otherwise known as Toronto Alternative Fashion Week.

I need to make 5 outfits by the beginning of December in order to have a photoshoot in order to apply.

I work full time in an office – have I mentioned this before?

I’m doing 2 craft shows this weekend; the Mondo Bazaar and Portobello East.

I am insane – that is all.

Brook

Here I am, sitting in my studio, surrounded by 100 vinyl circles. I am attaching them all together in the hopes of creating something crazy – because frankly, that’s what you’ve got to do sometimes dammit.

I COULD make little black t-shirts over and over again – but really – there are SO many little black t-shirts out there, I don’t need to. There’s no point.

But there IS a lacking in pure-crazy take-a-chance fashion out there.

Perhaps I have watched “Video Phone” WAY too many times this weekend…

wait a minute – I am NOT saying that I want women going out to dinner in metal bras and clear plastic undies – that’s just crazy. I get so pissed off at girls wearing TIGHTS AS PANTS outside these days…. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…sorry thinking about it now…..going back to happy zen place, going to happy zen place…..ok I’m back.

What I am saying is take a chance on what you usually wear. Whether that means a different colour or something with zippers… just take a f-ing chance once in a while. Toronto can be such an amazing artistic city – I’ve seen it! Don’t slip into the sea of grey and black….

ok…where was I?… right – 100 vinyl circles…why do I do this to myself again?

Brook

Ok, so I kinda took a hiatus from this blog – I wish there was a better reason for my  absence, but really, just had nothing to say… it happens.

I kind of go into a fashion depression after every Toronto Fashion Week, or L’Oreal week, oh I mean LG – oh fuck it, whatever. I get in a funk after all the cattle herding, and after watching and reading about all the beautiful work and effort of other people.

I see-saw back and forth of ‘oh lord, I will never get to that level of success’ to ‘good lord they spent thousands of dollars on a show that lasts not even 5 minutes?!?!’

Well – what better way to get yourself out of a funk and back into all this fashion stuff than to BE blogged about. I went to the Frocktail Fundraiser at The Burrough’s Building last week, convinced by friends Anne and Ana (the dynamic fashion duo) that this would be worth it.

And it was, here was a fashion party that I didn’t want to run screaming from the room. It was full of funky people would LOVED fashion…in Toronto…oh yah bitches – it exists. It wasn’t just models and guys that wanted to meet models…well, there were some of those… but the majority were people who were there to BUY clothing and dances their dances off. My kind of party.

On the dance floor, I was approached by the lovely blogger Laura Connell , and thanks to her, the funk was shook off;

“awesome red dress – where’d you get it?”

“thanks! It’s mine…I made it”

“oh! you’re a designer!?!”

“yes, yes I am”

back in the game, see yah soon

Brook

Dear  Toronto Fashion Week,

I know that’s not your name anymore, but I like to keep old nicknames. Skydome will always be Skydome. You are who you are, and you are frickin’ Toronto Fashion Week.

You moved this year too, I liked your old place, but your new one is pretty nice.

With all your very nice furniture in your new place here’s something you ABSOLUTELY need to get for the next time I visit – VELVET ROPES.

EVERY other event in the world, when you have over 50 people, you have god damn ropes to tell people where to stand in line in an orderly fashion. It’s just the way it is. Have your VIP areas, blah blah blah, but STOP treating everyone else like CATTLE. It’s nasty, and immature. I know you’re young but dammit how are you going to grow up and get respected when you can’t even get the people properly through the door.

I love you so much, but you need to get your shit together.

Thanks

Brook

Well, we went back for more (Brook REALLY liked that tetrapack water). The passport office’s baffling queue system meant I was too late to get into Katrina Tuttle’s show (sorry Brook!), but we watched it on the screen outside. Lots of pretty frocks covered in pleats and flowers, worn by models who could not walk in their four-inch heels. LGFW gets the young, cheap models, I guess. Fresh and girly and I wouldn’t cry if one appeared in my closet next spring (er, the dresses, I mean, not the models).

Then we went to eat noodles in Liberty Village to fortify ourselves for the crowds at Pink Tartan. Yikes, man. While we waiting in the huddle (to call it a line would be so misleading), elbows at the ready, Brook rhymed of a half a dozen ways to improve upon LG (ugh) Fashion Week. She should send Robin Kay an application letter on Monday morning. From our spot in the huddle we spotted Ben Mulroney air-kissing a bunch of people and we eavesdropped on a gaggle of fashion students with just-so hair and in-your-face-trendy glasses. Then, when the ropes parted to let in the masses, we shoved and elbowed and excuse-me’d (this IS Canada, after all) our way into the showroom and nabbed a couple of seats.

Pink Tartan clearly shelled out for models who could handle the absurd footwear, and the show was better for it. Lots of trenchcoats and blazers with visible epaulets, a few vaguely nautical pieces (Ralph Lauren-lite), and plenty of sequins. Fun and shiny and crowd-pleasing – no wonder proud hubby Joe Mimran is beaming from the front row.

And then we’re outta there. We wave to the PETA seal and Brook needs change for the bus, so we pop into the Starbucks, which leads to the quote of the evening. Noting the group of skinny, decked-out girls clustered in the corner, I jokingly ask the barista if Fashion Week is his favourite week ever. “Not so much working here, but visually I can’t complain,” he says. “And I suppose if I wasn’t working here, I couldn’t very well sit around like a creep.”

Alright, that blog post title might be a wee bit dramatic. I’m not actually throwing tantrums about my first ever Fashion Week, I just hate crowds. But I do like people walking in a straight line while wearing pretty clothes. So yesterday I braved my first foray into the big white tent at King and Shaw. (Aside: is anyone else alarmed/amused that LGFW HQ is directly downwind of an abattoir? No amount of Chanel EDT can cover up that stench!)

We watched Jason Myers unveil his Spring/Summer 2010 collection, and it was…fine. Fashion shows are so anticlimactic! I’m into theatre, so when I see a stage, I expect a dramatic payoff. But the most drama you’ll get on a runway is a nip-slip (and yes, there was one last night). It starts absurdly – why is Myers screening a scene from Katherine Hepburn movie that has nothing to do with his actual clothing? Obviously the fireworks in this scene mean that La Hepburn is getting laid offscreen, but what’s with the closeup of the shoe? And why does Myers like everything to be jutting strangely off of shoulders? Never mind. The techno starts and so does the clothing (the first model is Prairie Ditz from the last CNTM, concentrating very hard and glaring at the wall of cameras at the end of the runway).

As for the clothing itself, it’s better described by people who are savvier and take better notes than me, but my general feeling about Myers is that whenever he gets something right, it’s an accident, and it’s copied from someone who does it better. He’s got some good lines – my favourite outfit was a black layered chiffon blouse over slick cigarette pants – but every single skirt was too short (hello, ass cheeks), and I swear I had a mini version of his pink minidress for my Barbie back in the day.

And that was that. 20 minutes. Please clear the room as quickly as possible and go grab a few razor samples. Personally, my favourite part of the entire proceedings was the tub of water not in bottles, but in a tetrapack boxed wine type of packaging. Brook and I both liked the box-wine-spring-water so much, we’re braving the Pink Tartan show tonight in the hopes of stocking up on more.

Mr Alexander McQueen;

You are just f***ing amazing. I have wanted to eat your brains in hopes of a fashion-zombie-like-absorption of your talents… don’t be freaked out – this is my ultimate fashion compliment.

Just. wow. And I’m having a hard time trying to put the words in the correct order to explain without sounding really weird. f**k.

OK – here goes, you make the craziest-ass shapes on women’s bodies – but they still look like women’s bodies.

You have gorgeous alien women wear reverse-mohawks and it actually looks awesome.

The fabric this season; it looks like you took everything in nature; skins, leaves, and the sky and digitally meshed them onto fabric in lava-lamp-like patterns and it looks original…  There it is; in a world where everything has been done…  You surprise the shit out of me, you are making original things.

And you make me curse alot – that means I like you.

gaaaaah dammit your brains!

luv Brook

There’s nothing more french than Chanel, is there?

I always envisioned that if you are born Parisian, they wrap you in Chanel tweed at the hospital.

Chanel shows always have these GIGANTIC set productions which probably cost more than my house, and this year they took it to the farm, literally. Models strutted around a quaint country cottage and the floor covered in straw.

These french country-bumpkins are dressed to the nines of course, this collection just SCREAMED innocence, so much that I hope all these girls are over 16….otherwise, I feel kinda dirty. They had ONE male model, and frankly, if I were a male model, being the only dude around would rock. He got some lovely coordinating outfits.

After all the sweet winter-whites and chiffon, I REALLy enjoyed when Lagerfeld mixes in black to give a little more oomph to the innocence. (I don’t know what oomph in german or french is… probably pretty close to oomph).

When i go on a picnic in the country...

So next summer, lets all put on pretty dresses, grab a picnic basket and have a roll in the hay – who’s in?

Brook

Oh la la, j’adore Dior

Well it looks like Mr Galliano got deep into the Film Noir this time. When this guy gets a theme – he runs with it and sticks to it. Trench coats; short and long, wide and skinny – you will wear trench coats next summer. Galliano has declared.

Every model had Veronica Lake hair, wavy and a bounce and HERE’S the thing I’m enjoying – dresses inspired by slinky lingerie!

I see london...I see france...

Get ready for ruffled bums, sheer lacy tops and skirt slips exposed! I am! My bra is always sticking out somewhere…..

My advice – go to Goodwill NOW and grab a full slip in a fun colour. Don’t wear boots with it like we did back in the 90’s. In spring, mix it in with your light sundresses, and you’ll be oh so french.

Or ready to burst into a detective’s office and declare, “Sir! there’s a man following me!” and he’ll know why.

Brook

Balenciaga is a label that I probably will never 1) the legs or 2) the bravery to wear.

It’s a brand that I like to observe, like on a safari. Whenever Jennifer Connelly shows up at an event, I sit back and stare at the art in motion.

Like abstract art, first you’re slapped in the face with colours or textures or shapes you’re not used to…then after a few minutes you appreciate the direction. But you probably don’t feel the need to hang it in your living room…you know what I’m sayin?

Space crime fighter / Mondrian Painting!

 Brook