BIDDELL'S LAST SUPPER

Hot, young obstreperous designer Evan Biddell threw himself a 33^rd birthday party worthy of Warhol at his home/atelier, the incredible and exotic Dali-esque Darling Mansion which looks like the set of a Gloria Swanson movie if she were a hoochie-coochie dancer. It was THE place to be on Tuesday night, sweetie darlings. Where else would you find designers, models, artists, photographers, stylists, ballet dancers, taxidermy and a python snake under one roof? I could have done without the reptile. As far as I am concerned, the only good snake is a dead snake, preferably in a purse or pair of booties.

Evan Biddell and his dirty-dozen disciples, twelve of his fave femmes/muses, re-enacting The Last Supper. I am at the extreme left and feel privileged to have made the cut. When asked whether I wanted to portray (apostle) Paul in the lineup, I demurred. I wanted to be Ringo.

Evan putting on a game face while being entwined by the python in the mansion’s living room. Ick! Is all I can say.

Model Aluad Anei in a Biddell creation accessorized by the snake. Double ick! So much for modelling being a glam profession.

The willowy Johanne doing her best Elvira in another Biddell design. She is not a model, just genetically blessed, damn her. I felt like the fat girl in the circus being in a house full of slinky mannequins.

Me and the divine Micheline Wedderburn, who gets her killer body from being owner/instructor at Quad Spin, in selfie mode. 

How talented is Evan Biddell? He repurposed the blanket I gave him to pimp up his pad into this fabulous coat. Now seriously! Think what he could do with a duvet.

A fireplace in the Darling Mansion, a Victorian pile built in 1888. It came with the place when the lovely and talented Tanya Grossi bought it and transformed it into a cornucopia of divine decadence.

A fanciful fanny pack purchased in France by stylist /producer Sarah Jay, who is obsessed with fanny packs. This is one I could actually conceive of wearing. It doesn’t scream tourist on holiday wearing worldly goods around ones mid-section.

And just when you thought Biddell and company couldn’t top the drama, a ballet dancer performs in the mansion’s moonlit garden.

FOR EVAN'S SAKE

FAT is where it’s at. Last week, Fashion Art Toronto, the alternate to Toronto Fashion Week, staged their outré shows in assorted venues. I always attend Evan Biddell’s -- they never fail to wow me because his vision and production values. Not for nothing his show, dedicated to David Bowie and Iman, was voted one of the “Most Outrageous Looks” by Blog TO. 

But outrageousness only goes so far. His exquisite tailoring is the real deal.

Furthermore, the outrageousness was not limited to the runway. Everywhere you looked in the fashion crowd, the most interesting ensembles were inevitably worn by the boys.

One of Evan Biddell’s looks, which I call Holly Golightly does Elvira.

Ruth Promislow, a partner in the Bustle line, wearing a red-hot Biddell number, and Marlene Schiff, whose photo was on the Industry pass, flank Evan Biddell after the show. He is clutching a bottle of tequila, my ritualistic contribution to his after party.

Just browsing: Anyone can have purple hair. All it takes is a trip to Shopper’s Drug Mart cosmetics department. This woman has accessorized hers with arresting blinged-out brows.

Bustle partner Shawn Hewison shows off the highly-coveted Jilly’s T-shirt, designed in commemoration of the closing of the infamous strip club.

Quad Spin queen Micheline Wedderburn and I model the other must-have T-shirt, one with Evan Biddell’s shiny little face printed on it.

Just when I thought I’d escaped the ubiquitous selfie moment, there was this cool artwork calling my name.

IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK NOT LIKE XMAS

It’s the festive season even though it feels more like spring than winter and we’re more likely to get a wet Christmas than a white one. An early gift was the screening of director/photographer Gail Harvey’s doc Rickie Lee Jones: The Other Side of Desire, at TIFF Lightbox last Thursday.

The doc is named for Jones's new album, her first of original music in a decade. It was a poignant, life-affirming, challenging, nostalgic, humorous and touched on issues like misogyny in the music business and the invisibility of women over 40 in general (which makes it easy to shoplift as an episode of Six Feet Under documented). Then there’s the kick-ass music -- the reaffirmation of the quirky talent who did not peek with “Chuck E’s in Love.” Who knew she was such a talented musician that she can play a range of instruments including an organ without instruction? We who labored torturous hours over piano lessons and stank at it are duly humbled.

Here’s the movie poster for Rickie Lee Jones: The Other Side of Desire. The album makes a great Christmas gift – hint, hint. The doc traces the recording of it. In some shots I found her reminiscent of Joni Mitchell.

Rickie Lee Jones with director Gail Harvey in Jones’s home in New Orleans. The two women bonded and became friends. I covet the distressed cabinet in her kitchen.

A call to arms as Gail Harvey takes a bow after the screening of her film at the TIFF Lightbox.

Rob (not David Crosby, who by the way is in the doc), singer Micah Barnes and I do a group hug after the screening. Clearly I should have stood on a box at the Lightbox.

There was no red carpet at TIFF Bell Lightbox for Gail’s film but surprisingly there was one in front of St. Louis Wings Bar and Grill on Queen St. in the Beach that night. Go figure.

Best Xmas dec on the block: Poor Santa is falling off the roof in the Beach. And no, it wasn’t on Fallingbrook Drive.

Two of the fashionable black brigade shopping in Yorkville over the weekend.

An exception to the black widows was this delightful shopper in bright blue with fabulous snakeskin boots from Italy.

After an absence of several weeks -- it is party season, folks -- I went back to Quad Spin on King St. West for penance. Ouch. It takes a couple of classes to tough it out and get your crotch callous back. Micheline Wedderburn, owner/founder of Quad Spin, is the best advert for spinning. She has a rockin’ bod, decked out here in animal-print pants and fake fur vest.