All Puffed Up
Originally published on Torontoist on October 21, 2008.
Bravo, May-June 1983.
As Halloween nears, costume hunters are descending on the city’s vintage, resale, and thrift clothing stores looking for the right ensemble to dazzle their friends—we suspect that traffic reports will be required for Kensington Market, Goodwill, and Value Village locations this weekend. Someone may be lucky enough to find this gem from a quarter-century ago and channel its wit and vitality in any number of directions, including high-class fashion model, drag diva extraordinaire, or, with liberal application of muck and stage blood, a horrifying apparition.
The puffy sleeves were designed with aesthetics and practicality in mind. They provide an ideal storage/hiding spot for any beverages required for your Halloween activity. Built-in storage compartments reduce the need to carry a bag for your valuables, as long as you don’t shimmy your arms too wildly on the dance floor.
Originally published on Torontoist on December 9, 2008.
Toronto Life, December 1985.
In this time of economic turmoil, isn’t it reassuring that all you need to do to tell the world that your investments are secure and your confidence is strong is to show off a pair of pearl earrings? Never mind the corporate restructuring plan that you’ve worked on for the past two weeks to the detriment of your sleeping habits and stress levels—the world must know that you are alive and kicking!
Secrett Jewel Salon offered its first rocks in 1955 in a store at the Park Plaza Hotel. The business continues to operate, though it has occupied other spaces in Yorkville since this ad was published.
Pop 84 for Xmas 85
Originally published on Torontoist on November 24, 2009.
Christmas marketing tip from the mid-1980s: if you’re an Italian denim label who wants to push the newsboy/urchin look to tony Toronto shoppers, recruit the most sullen batch of models you can find that look good in loose shirts and suspenders.
This group of ragamuffins showed up in a special “Noel” pullout section that Toronto Life readers were urged to “pull out and save for influential shopping advice and gift-giving tips.” Suggestions included eighty-five dollar bead mazes for children, gift bags of Kernels popcorn and gold-glazed pots for women, and a nineteenth century suit of armour (only eight hundred and fifty bucks!) for men. In a survey of what Torontonians wanted from Santa, author Morley Callaghan wished for a booze-filled seven-course meal (“I think I’d like to start off with an aperitif, then a couple of bottles of good wine, maybe a burgundy, and finish off with some fine cognac”), skater Toller Cranston pined for an elephant’s foot stool with toenails, and artist/musician Mendelson Joe wanted peace on earth—if that failed, he indicated he’d settle for a trillion dollars to promote imagination and creativity instead of humanity’s destructive habits.
UPDATE: When my wife saw this ad, she said “they look like the extras for Newsies.”
Originally published on Torontoist on December 29, 2009.
It was the morning after the night before. She couldn’t remember much, other than it had been one heck of a New Year’s party. Stumbling onto the streets of Yorkville, she found herself clad in a stunning blue, grey, and black number, dimly recalling how she borrowed the snowflake-inspired couture from the hostess after an impulsive jump into the hot tub. Though her head felt like a football tossed around during the bowl games she would watch with her housemates later that afternoon, she was determined to make an impression in her stylish discovery, if only to hail a cab home. Some would say she was trying to present the image of a pouty model to the world; she would say she was holding her aching head before Advil could come to the rescue.