BALMAINIA

On Wednesday night, I managed to squeeze into the media preview of the highly-anticipated Balmain x H&M collection at the Bloor Street location, which would be available to the hoi polloi next day.

This marks the 11th collection in a line of prestigious designer collaborations with H&M, the first being in 2004 with Karl Lagerfeld. I’d missed them all except for finding some rejects from the Martin Margiela offerings at H&M’s Fifth Avenue location in New York so I was super pumped.

Balmain is a luxury label way beyond the clothing allowances of the millennial generation so the aim is that this collaboration will introduce the brand to them and make it more attainable. In fact, Balmain creative director Olivier Rousteing used to wait in line himself for hours to score H&M’s designer capsules as a teen so he can relate to this. 

The RSVP stressed that it was invitation only, we would be issued wristbands on a “first come first serve basis”, non-transferable, bring ID and we would be allowed to shop for a designated time period only. Do not pass “Go,” do not collect $200.

I arrived late -- but didn’t get the dregs as I expected though it was a feeding frenzy. It was a cacophony of stylists, a sprinkling of bold face and bloggers like the gold-dust twins, Cailli and Sam Beckerman. We were granted five minutes of shopping and then there was a fierce lineup at the dressing rooms so the more enterprising among us including fun gal Traci Melchor just tried on stuff in the aisles in front of mirrors. We even swapped items among us for different sizing. It was a flashback to the “do-you-want-this-it-doesn’t-work-for-me” retail camaraderie reminiscent of the old days of communal dressing rooms at Loehmann’s designer discount stores.

The highly-coveted wristband issued at the front door of H&M for entry. I could have scalped it if not for the guest list and the door whores.

After going through security and being made to queue up at the bottom of the escalator, I was warmly welcomed at the top with a vodka cocktail by affable actor/waiter Junior Williams. There were also pass-around nibbles but I don’t eat and shop. Don’t need the extra calories when you are trying to stuff yourself into suede pants.

An overview of the security at the lineup to get into the designated shopping area, which was a tighter fit than the clothing.

Here I am in total shopping mode, trying to balance a cocktail and half a dozen hangers. Not a drop of beverage was spilled though there was some shop sweat. It was mighty toasty in the crowded aisle/makeshift dressing room.

The boots, caged shoes and jewelry was pretty much sold out but I managed to snag the last cuff.

I also scored this top, which is very Kardashian. The Kardashians are poster girls for the Balmain brand, which runs “sexy, satin and skin-tight.”  Creative director Olivier Rousteing  apprenticed with Roberto Cavalli and the flamboyance aesthetic rubbed off.

An H&M staffer briefs the poor plebs lined up outside overnight to be first in line next morning to shop the collection. Apparently they’d been lined up for two days at the Eaton Centre location.

An oversized piece of graffiti depicting the eternally disapproving Lucy of Peanuts fame off King St. Note the mattress at her feet. She could lend it to the hapless Balmain fans lined up outside H&M.

SCARY SAVINGS

I was a V.V. (Value Village) virgin until my pal Jo-ann Dodds walked me through the Queen and Logan location about a decade ago. Jo-ann is the consummate V.V. thrifter who routinely bags goodies like Chanel scarves through sheer instinct. In fact, for a while (while I was the Star's Shopping-section deputy editor) she had a column called "Dodds and Ends," chronicling her weekly V.V. treasures.

In my maiden V.V. foray, I scored a vintage chocolate-brown men’s Balmain jacket that is so Al Pacino in Carlito’s Way. It is the real deal; cost me $40 and I still wear it.

Somehow Jo-ann had missed it. I think I might even have gloated.

Thrifting is no longer considered déclassé. It’s all about the hunt -- just look at the success of Winners and Marshalls. Everybody’s mixing high-end with high street; vintage and new. H&M launched a new 110-piece collaboration with Balmain. Granted the jackets can run to $400 but that’s a fraction of the $4,000-plus runway tab.

And there has been a reissue of Cheap Chic, the 1975 thrift-shop manifesto that according to the New York Times “was a guide to personal style that blew a big raspberry to establishment norms with a pugnacious manifesto.”

The editors “presented the uniforms and flourishes of the new order: jeans, T-shirts, leotards, cowboy boots, Goodwill wares and flea-market couture, Mexican peasant blouses, Peruvian sweaters and painter’s pants . . . ”

Moreover, a used copy of the original Cheap Chic is worth $300 – which represents a sizable shopping spree in a thrift shop.

“I have a copy somewhere,” I gleefully crowed to Rob. “No you don’t,” he replied. “I’m pretty sure you sold it at a lawn sale. For a buck.”

Ouch. My bad.

The welcome sign at the Lansdowne/Bloor location of Value Village. I made an excursion Wednesday to buy new jeans for the incredible shrinking Rob and check out the Halloween costumes.

No, they aren’t The Munsters, they are mannequin greeters at Value Village, all decked out for Halloween.

You can dress up as everything from a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle to a can-can dancer with stuff from V.V. at prices that are ridiculously lower than Malabar’s.

This witchy woman is part of the Halloween set decoration at V.V. and not for sale. Too bad; she would make a great garden gnome.

Even the staffers get into the Halloween spirits. This young woman was a cheeky check-out in ghoulish green hair accessories.

This rug is not available at Value Village. It is rendition of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus as a hand-woven rug designed by Robyn Waffle, a hip young woman at Totem Rug Design. Note the whimsical Halloweenie touch of a black cat at her feet.