Carlie Wong, Zoran Dobric, Evan Biddell and more
FASHION WEEK SPRING 2009 TORONTO
By Sarah Nicole Prickett
Fifteen minutes late is no longer fashionable. This I learned the hard way, arriving to Carlie Wong’s sophomore outing just in time for her standing O. It wasn’t hard to see where that came from, once we caught up with runway footage of the “Glamourous Gangster” collection.
Wong’s gun molls and grown-up dolls, tricked out in fedoras and finger waves, had flaunted an ultra-wearable array of so-called “luxury sportswear:” think lavishly ruffled blouses, pleated wide-leg trousers, and bow-tied cocktail dresses. The jumpsuits, while nice, are starting to look a bit stale, but a short-sleeved, silver-grey trench was both fresh and timeless. And there was a great one-shoulder gown (is any Spring 2009 collection complete without one?) in icy blue silk, just the thing to make its wearer stand out in a sea of LBDs.
“Wrinkled is not a style,” my mother always argued. Well, she can take it up with Zoran Dobric, who paired artfully crinkled and scrunch-hemmed silks with his signature digital prints for spring. The best of his graphics came in deep-sea shades of green, complimented by shimmery shell details (crafted by jewellery and accessories designer Mirjana Scepanovic). Less appealing was a stripe that echoed fake wood grain and showed up on everything from shift dresses to jean-like trousers to guys’ vests. In fact, the favourite pieces were neither printed nor patterned. Instead, a cool black jacket, cut from stiff, high-shine cotton and detailed with biker zips and a simple sash, drew covetous oohs from the crowd. And the cropped, slightly relaxed trousers, most of which were zipped or buttoned at the ankle, appear universally flattering—ironed or not.
Double-billed as a “fashion grindhouse,” the back-to-back presentation of Toronto faves Damzels in this Dress (pretty in punk) and Playdead Cult (just plain punk) is reliably a riot. First up, Leslieville locals Kelly Freeman and Rory Lindo showed off five sets of sassy frocks, starting with white stretch denim emblazoned with tattoo art by David Glantz. Distressed gingham would send anyone but the most diehard rockabilly running for the hills, but the girls redeemed themselves with hand-dyed, sunrise-hued slip dresses, styled with bedhead and cigarette for instant va-va-voom.
And from the west side of Queen Street, Playdead Cult brought in an air band of costumed “Grim Moops.” The black-hooded mascots banged out “Beat It” as models stomped out in looks made to please every suburban mall-punk who’s ever run away to the city. For girls, skull and skeletal butterfly prints were surprisingly sweet (less so, the cargo and denim jackets and miniskirts that looked “borrowed” from Garage Clothing); for guys, cut-off blazers and jeans covered in rips and rock ’n’ roll patches ruled the day.
The “making-of” video that played before Evan Biddell’s Spring 2009 show may have been set to the Woodhands’ “I Wasn’t Made for Fighting,” but the clothes couldn’t have been hotter for young urban warriors. There were slashed bodysuits, cowl-hooded capes and bat-wing blouses, and an unapologetically sheer black gown that made the model look like a dark angel. Even eyelet cotton was anything but innocent, looking more like exaggerated mesh in all those athletic rompers and hoodies (worn over nothing but skin, naturally.) And while Biddell’s denim experiments bordered on extreme—crotches dropped to the knee, a pair of skinnies corseted up to the bust, and hot shorts more aptly described as briefs—a quick dinnertime survey in the media lounge says there’s nothing a forward-thinking twenty-something wouldn’t totally wear. Jury’s still out on jean skirts for the boys, though.
Shown ZORAN DOBRIC Spring 2009. Photography by Stephanie Trendocher
DAY 3: PART 2 | DAY 2
 in icy blue silk, just the thing to make its wearer stand out in a sea of LBDs.
“Wrinkled is not a style,” my mother always argued. Well, she can take it up with Zoran Dobric, who paired artfully crinkled and scrunch-hemmed silks with his signature digital prints for spring. The best of his graphics came in deep-sea shades of green, complimented by shimmery shell details (crafted by jewellery and accessories designer Mirjana Scepanovic). Less appealing was a stripe that echoed fake wood grain and showed up on everything from shift dresses to jean-like trousers to guys’ vests. In fact, the favourite pieces were neither printed nor patterned. Instead, a cool black jacket, cut from stiff, high-shine cotton and detailed with biker zips and a simple sash, drew covetous oohs from the crowd. And the cropped, slightly relaxed trousers, most of which were zipped or buttoned at the ankle, appear universally flattering—ironed or not.
Double-billed as a “fashion grindhouse,” the back-to-back presentation of Toronto faves Damzels in this Dress (pretty in punk) and Playdead Cult (just plain punk) is reliably a riot. First up, Leslieville locals Kelly Freeman and Rory Lindo showed off five sets of sassy frocks, starting with white stretch denim emblazoned with tattoo art by David Glantz. Distressed gingham would send anyone but the most diehard rockabilly running for the hills, but the girls redeemed themselves with hand-dyed, sunrise-hued slip dresses, styled with bedhead and cigarette for instant va-va-voom.
And from the west side of Queen Street, Playdead Cult brought in an air band of costumed “Grim Moops.” The black-hooded mascots banged out “Beat It” as models stomped out in looks made to please every suburban mall-punk who’s ever run away to the city. For girls, skull and skeletal butterfly prints were surprisingly sweet (less so, the cargo and denim jackets and miniskirts that looked “borrowed” from Garage Clothing); for guys, cut-off blazers and jeans covered in rips and rock ’n’ roll patches ruled the day.
The “making-of” video that played before Evan Biddell’s Spring 2009 show may have been set to the Woodhands’ “I Wasn’t Made for Fighting,” but the clothes couldn’t have been hotter for young urban warriors. There were slashed bodysuits, cowl-hooded capes and bat-wing blouses, and an unapologetically sheer black gown that made the model look like a dark angel. Even eyelet cotton was anything but innocent, looking more like exaggerated mesh in all those athletic rompers and hoodies (worn over nothing but skin, naturally.) And while Biddell’s denim experiments bordered on extreme—crotches dropped to the knee, a pair of skinnies corseted up to the bust, and hot shorts more aptly described as briefs—a quick dinnertime survey in the media lounge says there’s nothing a forward-thinking twenty-something wouldn’t totally wear. Jury’s still out on jean skirts for the boys, though.
Shown ZORAN DOBRIC Spring 2009. Photography by Stephanie Trendocher
DAY 3: PART 2 | DAY 2
FASHION WEEK | SPRING 2009){kind=link}