FROM V.V. TO CHI-CHI

In fashion, there is no room for snobbery. You need to hit the highs and lows, from The Room to Value Village. Even iconic Iris Apfel will bargain with frankly-fake jewelry dealers in market stalls in New York. It’s not just for the sport of it, it makes sense.

Nobody needs to ever pay full price. If you wait for it, it will come. That’s how I scored those $1,000 Alexander Wang man-repeller sandals for $169 last summer. It was vigorous exercise and makes for a great story. I even kept the price sticker on the bottom of the shoes until they peeled off as evidence.

I stupidly left this coat behind at 290 Ion at Queen and Parliament, still a sketchy ‘hood but getting upwardly mobile now the former Marty Millionaire is becoming condo-ized. 290’s owner Sanghun Oh has superlative skill in ferreting out genius pieces at non-bankrupting price points. Like this coat, priced at $400 but so amazing I would want to tear it off the back of someone wearing it. It haunts me still.

Me and Jo-Ann Dodds, a former co-worker at the Toronto Star, foraging for treasures at Value Village. Dodds is such a master at bagging bargains at V.V., where she shops habitually, I had her write a column for the Star’s erstwhile Shopping section called Dodds and Ends, in which she chronicled her finds of the week. It was brilliant.

A fabbo and funky jacket in The Room trimmed in marabou and styled cleverly. There was apparently a pair of pants to match but why would you? You would look like you were moulting.

A glitter girl Christmas window at Saks Fifth Avenue that speaks to me way more than the terminally cute traditional ones featuring cartoony critters around the corner at Hudson’s Bay. But that is just bah-humbuggy me.

A pair of sweet rescue greyhounds outside Ed’s Real Scoop in The Beach. Note how stylish they are in their Hudson’s Bay coats. They need them; they have zero body fat. I will never know how that feels.

Boot maker par excellence Rocco P (as in Pistonesi) and George C (as in Corbo) at the 10^th anniversary cocktailer for George C. boutique on Scollard in Yorkville. Rocco P, carried exclusively at George C, created a stunning assortment of styles for this event. I own a stable full of Rocco P’s addictive cowboy boots.

These boots are not Rocco P’s – they are Fauzian Jeunesse -- but they keep calling my name. I will definitely go back to George C to interview them.

And while I am at it, I will definitely get up close and personal with these Rocco P silverados. How yummy are these?

Lisa Corbo, stylist, jewelry designer and clothing buyer for the boutique, and arguably the chicest woman in Toronto, poses at the party with TV producer Al Magee.

This parka is part rhinestone cowgirl and part bedazzled Canada Goose and all this fabulousness goes for $2,000! It’s all mine if I win a lottery or if it is drastically reduced.

Makeup artist/model/muse Myles Sexton is inevitably the most interesting guy in the room. I bow to his swag.

FEST DRESSED

Egads, it is the beginning of the end of summer. You can’t feel it in the fetid humid air but there are ads for the CNE on buses and TIFF (Toronto International Film Festival) held its media press conference last week. The Room at the Bay is holding its last-gasp sale where things go up to 85 per cent off which make them affordable to mere mortals. I snapped up a killer pair of Armani linen slouch pants originally marked $800 for just a hair over $100. Did I need them? Get a grip. What’s need got to do with it? But they were the cost of a snack and cocktail in some overpriced and snotty eatery. You know who you are. So I have been keeping an eye out for goodies to wear at TIFF parties – presupposing that you are on the list.
 

I wandered into Avec Plaisir (or Avec Brassiere as I like to call it) on Friday to get a new white bra because my current fave spazzed out on me very publically at the corner of Broadview and Queen recently. I was waiting for a Queen streetcar (what else is new) and put my hands together behind my back to stretch out and my bra unhooked. Yikes! When I tried to discreetly hook it back up I had to hike up my white shirt in the process, which gave the rummies drinking behind me in front of the convenience store a free show.

Avec Plaisir owner Vasilia Panagakos is a genius. She remembers your “shape” and magically produces a dozen bras to try on and they all fit. While there, I wandered over to the half-price rack (what am I, a newbie?) and unearthed a couple of pieces meant for night wear that would be perfect for TIFF, including this exquisite black silk coat by La Perla that looks like a tuxedo from the front and on the back is a graphic that to me references the classic 1927 Fritz Lang film Metropolis.

The front of the coat, which is classic/sexy. All you need is a black camisole, black leather leggings and fuck-me shoes. Or you could dress it down with ripped jeans and black booties.

Another TIFF possibility is this La Perla Chinoiserie-inspired jacket that reflects the Boho trend that isn’t going away any time soon. The arms are cut like a kimono and the piece would be brilliant with flowy pants, jeans or even over a LBD, which jacks the look up a notch and prevents it from being safe and easy. It’s a film festival for god’s sake. Crank up the volume.

I love the signage on the back of a step sitter on Cumberland St. I have no idea what it means but who cares. It made me stop, look and snap.

One of the cool kids at Zara, where the summer sale is fizzling out but the fall merch is coming in fast and furiously. Note the metallic sneaks on the young woman and the cute on-trend fuzzy red ball accessorizing her purse.

Me with Deborah Ingram, personal shopping and image consultant at Hudson's Bay. Deborah is brandishing the highly coveted Lanvin purse, which I am plotting to steal from her. Also I want her job. Imagine getting paid for dressing people with merchandise pulled from The Room and neighboring Sak's Fifth Avenue. I am holding a Lanvin box which houses a killer necklace reduced from $2,200 to $400.

A brilliant knock-off at Zara of the coveted Givenchy satin bomber jacket that retails about $3,000. Zara’s is under $200.

WAITING LIST, ETC.

This is the time of great bargoons in summer wear. Remember, I don’t get out of bed for less than 70-per-cent off. But you have to bide your time. If it is still overly pricey – our summer season is so limited and statistically we only wear 20 per cent of our wardrobe – you need to suck it up and wait for the last gasp. I mean, you can’t have everything. Where would you put it?

This fringed skirt has my name all over it. It is a hot Pucci number I found in The Room at Hudson’s Bay downtown. It was originally priced at $1,010 (yeah, I know) and was reduced to $403.99 and it would replace the Michael Kors fringed skirt I stupidly sold years ago. But there will be further reductions in August and if it is still there, I am meant to have it. Seriously, I could easily go through life without a go-go skirt.

I am addicted to all things camo and am pining over this clutch also at The Room. Its original price is $2,895 (why????) marked down to $1,157.99 but unless I get an inheritance from long-lost relatives in Lithuania or the bag is horrifically reduced, it will not be tucked under my arm any time soon. But I can still drool over it.

I am a big fan of distressed wear and of award-winning Canadian designer Evan Biddell, one of the best cutters in the biz. So this shredded tank top with Biddell’s face all over it is doubly delicious.

New York has some serious graffiti. I think they invented the stuff. But this wall in Queen Street West is no slouch. Gotta love the colour.

Utility boxes don’t have to be boring. This dramatic one on Parliament St. in the Distillery district could easily have been living in Stratford. 

Couples regularly pose in this heart-shaped structure in the Distillery district while doing the kissy-face thing. I was recently asked to snap such a couple and was happy to oblige. But I politely declined their offer to take a photo of me solo under the heart. It would have been too sad.

Giving and getting a helping hand and foot on a fence on Portland St.

CONSTANTINE COMPANIONS

Neither rain nor snow nor slush kept us from the 10^th anniversary party for the Canadian fashion label Greta Constantine, which shows in both Toronto and Paris, that’s how cool they are.

It was held at the regal Casa Loma, as befitting the stylish event’s “Royal Affair” theme, for which we were commanded to “dress royally.” Alas, our tiara was at the cleaners so we went bare headed.

Greta Constantine’s dashing duo Kirk Pickersgill (left) and Stephen Wong mug for the cameras with their muse, supermodel Coco Rocha.

Me, Rob Salem and stylist Wendy Natale arrive fashionably late on the red carpet after quaffing bubbles at Wendy’s chic flat.

A rear view of my Deco inspired shawl purchased in California – once a hippie, always a hippie.

Two of the impossibly tall and gorgeous models at the event dressed to thrill in Greta Constantine.

Three more leggy models who made us poor civilians feel like garden gnomes.

Nicholas Mellamphy, creative director/vice president of The Room at Hudson’s Bay, gives us the shoulder in his killer jacket.

Here I am taking my best Warhol study-in-blue selfie.

Pickersgill and Wong transformed the Casa Loma party space into a reproduction of their downtown Toronto studio complete with bolts of fabric, patterns and mannequins.

An up close and personal view of the detailing of the back of one of their fabulous frocks.

Fashion royalty: Her majesty Marlene Schiff (in full crowning glory) and the Beckerman Sisters give good face at Casa Loma.

SOCKS & THE CITY

Since my hands and feet are perpetually cold, I wear finger-less gloves (all the better to type with, my dear) and socks all year round. For me there is nothing like the joy of socks: snagging ones that don’t rip easily at the toes or pool around the ankles like the ones Ruth Buzzi wore as the decrepit old hag on Laugh-In.
 

Naturally I was pumped to hear about the pop-up Richer Poorer socks shop at 356 Queen St. West, a collaboration with Shoes.com, whose space they were taking over. The brands formed a partnership in late 2015.

Richer Poorer is a California fashion sock and innerwear brand known for “honest hustle and kick ass goods.” Its founders are Tim Morse and Iva Pawling. Morse, 41, was on site. He is a native Californian, a surfer/skate boarder with a tech background; she is into fashion with an emphasis on jewelry.

He is co-founder and president; she is co-founder and CEO. They started the brand in 2010. “Excessive bedazzled jeans were out, it was about rolled-up jeans with cool socks and Converse (sneakers),” he explains. Indeed, it is all about the kicks culture now.

They distribute to 15 countries and have 600 accounts in the U.S. including Saks, Nordstrom and Bloomindales, going toe to toe with J. Crew and Gap. This was their first retail pop-up.

Sean Clark, 35, a Canadian, is co-founder of Shoes.com/ Shoeme.ca, launched in January 2012 when Zappos folded in Canada – Zappos only ships to the U.S. now.

The online presence of Shoes.com is arguably one of the biggest in the country. They offer free shipping and returns, and even have a two-hour delivery feature in GTA. General delivery is three to five days.

They carry 500 brands and 30,000 products.  Price points range from $40 for Converse to high-end Charlotte Olympia and Louboutin.

Shoes.com is renovating their pop-up into a permanent showroom with selected stock -- guaranteed to get major foot traffic.

These two impossibly cute entrepreneurs are guaranteed to blow your socks off. Tim Morse, left, and Sean Clark bond at the Richer Poorer pop-up in the Shoes.com space.

Tote bag and matching socks, what a concept. It really works in animal print but silver lamé probably not so much. A little too Tin Man methinks.

Richer Poorer concentrates on inner-wear as opposed to outerwear or “top drawer” merchandise, as in undies drawer. Price points range from $10 to $24 for socks. Boxers are $24.

Sock it to me. They have women’s socks including Pointe Studio, an athletic line for ballet, barre, Pilates and yoga. Some socks feature gummy grips on the bottom ideal for general wear around the house avoiding those nasty falls on wooden floors and stairs. I am test-driving a pair for spinning.

A cool street musician at Queen and Spadina making the most of a sunny winter day.

My go-to vegetable market at Bloor and Palmerston, with fresh produce and line-ups from a.m. to p.m. and/or can’t see to can’t see.

 

SEVENTY-FIVE PER CENT OFF OR BED

My claim that I won’t get out of bed for less than 75 per cent off original price was put to the test this week and I totally aced it. I know there is nothing we NEED out there but there are bargoons to be bagged too delicious to pass up. Here are a few of my favourite scores:

I was killing time after my 3,000-mile eye check-up and dropped by my local Kind Exchange just for the exercise. I bagged a pair of brand new black leather Gap jeans for $10. And they fit perfectly!!!!!

Yeaaa me.

Flash forward two days later when I was poking around Yorkville and a saw a huge SALE sign in the window of Kumari’s shop on Bellair, which has exotically flamboyant clothing and accessories.

I scored two caftans for 75 per cent off: A long one for $48.75 and a shorter one for $31.25.

Hurry up summer.

And then I get an email advertising an extra 50 per-cent off already reduced merch at The Room at Hudson's Bay, with the sale moving to the Arcadian Court upstairs. The deals went up to 85 per cent off.

I am so there.

I concentrated on the coat racks because I have an obsession with outerwear. I staked out a dressing area at the back with my finds and attracted an entourage. We tried on each other’s rejects like a high-end swap meet. All we needed were cocktails.

Three of my fellow bargain-hunters at the Bay, rocking the same Carven coat, reduced from over $2,000 to $400. I am interviewing a fake fur Big Bird-yellow Moschino coat going for the same price. They sold out of the Carvens -- sorry.

Who wore the Moschino better, Dale Harrison, a staffer at The Room, or me?

BAH HUMBAG

Two of my favourite words are “70-percent off,” a phenom occurring more readily in the U.S. than in Canada, especially before Christmas. So when I got a text from a pal with the image of the black Proenza Schouler iconic PSI bag with fringe that I have been lusting after and the info that it was on sale for 60 percent off at The Room in Hudson’s Bay on Queen St., I started salivating.

I am an unrepentant bag hag and shoe slut. Shoes are my crack: I swear I will be found in a ditch with a stiletto in my arm. I just had to nip over to The Bay and interview the bag.

It wasn’t exactly cheap, but as another pal pointed out, I have been a good girl and I can amortize it per wearing because I wear my bags to death. In fact, I had to retire a Donna Karan bag woven à la Bottega Veneta because my friends were sick of seeing it.

Besides, this bag can help make up for not having our highly-anticipated annual faux black sluts-and-shoes Christmas tree this year. It is traditionally topped by a drunken cupie doll in flapper attire and laden with permutations thereof accessorized by tons of shoe ornaments.

Alas, not this year. We have a very naughty and clumsy black kitten named Sammy Davis Jr. Jr. who is a one-cat wrecking crew, responsible for breaking at least five lamps and clearing the mantle of everything on it. We call it tchotchke control.

As we were hauling out the tree for assemblage last Saturday, Sammy climbed up the only surviving plant in the house. He has been known to climb up walls. Visions of broken decorations and assaulted cupie dolls supplanted sugar plums in our minds. So we packed it in and Sammy will be henceforth known as the "Cat That Ruined Christmas” (or for short, the oddly familiar-sounding "CTRC").

My new bag is consolation.

 

Words to shop by at the entrance to The Room in Hudson’s Bay on Queen Street. They are attributed to the legendary photographer Bill Cunningham, who started the street-style paparazzi phenom and inspired poseurs everywhere.

The purse sales table at The Room, where a staffer complained that the shoppers aren’t respecting the merch and treating the expensive bags, which had an entry-level price just under $1,000 even on sale, like rough trade.

This is the furry beast that got away. It is a Proenza PSI bag, but it is not the one I bagged for myself. It reminded me too much of my deceased cat, Onslow.

Dale, my affable sales associate at The Room whom I’d met at a party last summer where we bonded over our ensembles. We both wore identical Church’s studded brogues and Chanel brooches like we were evil twins from other mothers.

A random shoe shopper at Hudson’s Bay who is terminally cool. I want her boots.

My go-to happy hour is 4-6 p.m. at the bar at Museum Tavern, the Bloor St. W. reincarnation of Bistro 990, where the oysters are buck a shuck and the wine is $6 and actually drinkable. Bartender Ryan is building me the perfect martini, which comes with a mighty flourish of dry ice. “It’s not a rush unless the keg blows,” Ryan cracked.

Martini madness: The finished product, accessorized by my cell phone-cover, a frankly faux Chanel anchored by a Louis Vuitton lock, which is the real deal. One out of two ain’t bad.

The Hermès window on Bloor Street, not remarkable because the scarf is so boho but because the mannequin is swarmed by squirrels, one of which is decked out in a festive red sweater. What was the window dresser smoking?