Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Bringing Back Nine to Fashion’s Front Line: Local Designer Unveils Menswear Collection

Written by Rosario Rieger
Edited by Jeni Stembridge

The music is bumping, and hundreds of bright lights land on a bamboo runway. A hunky model struts by the photographers—he’s wearing grey corduroy pants and a fitted navy blue knit sweater, detailed with white polka-dotted shoulder patches. The audience cheers while cameras flash, capturing Daniela Tarasut’s sexy menswear collection.

Four years ago, if you had asked Portland native Daniela Tarasut if she thought she would ever show at Portland Fashion Week, she would have laughed. Tarasut enrolled at the Art Institute of Portland with little idea of what she wanted to focus on within apparel design. Now, at age twenty three, she has created Back Nine—an edgy, hip men’s collection that debuted at Portland Fashion Week last year.

Last year, when several independent eco-labels from around the world launched their collections on the eco-friendly bamboo runway of the Pearl District’s 14 Square building, Tarasut was lucky to be one of the thirty five designers to show at this prestigious venue.

Usually, in order to show at Fashion Week designers need to apply, but one of Tarasut’s teachers at the Institute asked her to show her menswear collection in October 2008. “She had faith in me,” says Tarasut.

Portland Fashion Week is the second longest-running fashion week on the west coast. It arrived in 2003 and proved that Portland’s fashion scene was something to notice. Exposing independent designers to consumers, buyers, and national press, it is a fabulous way for newcomers like Tarasut to be introduced to the public.

Portland’s fashion scene tends to be fairly eclectic. Plaid shirts, running shoes, leather boots, and vintage jeans all go hand-in-hand here. It can range from hipster to bohemian, eighties glam to Ralph Lauren. People have a lot of freedom to wear whatever they please - mixing, matching, and layering are common among Portlanders, all of which Tarasut embodies in her collection.

During the beginning stages of creating a menswear collection, she took to the streets of Portland to find inspiration. While she was searching for a theme, she noticed a mannequin in a downtown golf shop. “I liked the idea of toying with golf-inspired clothing,” she says.

The menswear collection Tarasut created is 1920s golf-inspired, with a splash of modern sensibility and a bit of Portland’s eclectic style thrown in. “I wanted the clothes to be sleek and hip, with different mismatched patterns and prints,” she says. “I think it reflects Portland’s diverse fashion sense.”

Tarasut also drew inspiration from her childhood. When she was young, she spent much of her time with her grandfather, who was a Romanian tailor. He would often tailor her clothing as she grew older, and she found that she became fond of his style. “My line came from my admiration of my grandfather and his clothing,” she says.

The Back Nine fall collection features thirteen pieces, many of which are made from corduroy, various knits, and wild prints. There is much attention to detail, particularly in the pocketing. “My clothes are casual weekend wear,” she says. “They are for any young man who likes tailored, chic clothing with a lot of quirkiness.”

However, she is just starting the long and challenging road of making a living off of her passion. “Competition is always an issue,” says Tarasut. She has faced many challenges in creating her collection, especially making a living. “It’s so challenging,” she says of trying to sell her clothing to local Portland retailers. She has been mainly targeting shops in southeast Portland, particularly on Hawthorne and Belmont streets. “I’ve learned that you have to have a mind for business, not just for design.”

The life of an up and coming fashion designer is not always an easy one. Tarasut has spent the past year designing, sewing, showing, and promoting Back Nine. But, despite the hardships involved with pursuing an artistic passion, she remains optimistic. “I’ve never worked so hard in my life,” she says. “But it’s worth it.”

***

Rosario Rieger was born in Recife, Brazil, and grew up in Gresham, Oregon. She has a passion for film, psychology, fiction writing, and her friends and family. She is currently attending Portland State University and majoring in Psychology. She plans to attend graduate school and become either an social psychologist or a therapist.

Getting Thrifty With It: Cheap Is Chic in Tough Times

By Lauren Saxton
Edited by Michelle Blair

It’s a lazy Portland Sunday. My roommate and I are headed to Hawthorne Street toting a pair of her gold flats and a few other unwanted items. We are in the mood to revitalize our wardrobes, but we, along with most of our generation, along with most everyone, are broke. Broke, but resourceful. We have spent the morning emptying our closets of unwanted items. Clothes that have been taking up valuable room, that have run their course with us, but could find a new home in the closet of another. We pile these into bags and haul them up Hawthorne. The plan–turn our clothes into cash.

I am surprised to see the flats in my roommate’s resale bag. Gold metallic Dolce Vita flats with a square toe and a simple feminine bow. I was with her when she first saw them glimmering on the mannequin in the Nordstrom window. I watched her eyes light up as she coveted them. Only a week later I accompanied her downtown where the time she took from try to buy was almost instantaneous. I can’t say I was the devil’s advocate as she reasoned with herself that they weren’t too out of her price range (they were) and that she would wear them all the time (she didn’t). In fact, I believe I fawned over them as well, gushing that they were adorable and perfect on her and agreed that since she had made extra tips at her waitressing gig that week, they weren’t unreasonable at all. That was then.

After narrowly missing two rounds of terminations at work due to cutbacks and riding out the rise in everything from gas prices to food costs, my roommate has changed her idea of reasonable. So have I. The Nordstrom windows are far from our reality today, and we find ourselves happily crossing the threshold of thrift store doors more often.

Thrift, or second hand, is a tried and tested form of shopping. More than sixty vintage, thrift, consignment, and resale stores are listed on www.shopvintageportland.com in the Portland-metro area, not including such donation mainstays as Goodwill and Salvation Army. Google lists the number of Portland resale shops in the hundreds. The range of these stores is wide and not only dedicated to clothing. Shops like Lounge Lizard and Deco to Disco, both located on Hawthorne Street, deal in vintage midcentury to modern furniture. Antique jewelry and art can be found at a variety of Portland shops such as Avante Guard Vintage and ReRun, while Smut on Southeast 28th Avenue is the place to find all kinds of used trinkets, like a collection of Garbage Pail Kids or a lightly worn Choose Your Own Adventure book. Vinyl is also sold there, as well as in a dozen or more shops dedicated solely to record resale.

On this day, we walk into Buffalo Exchange on Southeast 37th Avenue and Hawthorne and realize we are not alone. The line to resell clothing is ten people deep. Some people have garbage bags full of items. This bright, recession woe beating idea has occurred to many more than just us. According to Sarah Sherman, a manager at the southeast branch who has worked at a variety of Buffalo Exchange shops, this surge is not uncommon. “This store has been around for a long time,” she says, “I feel like particularly in this town, everybody knows about it.”

With a southeast and a downtown branch, the shop is no secret. Buffalo Exchange is now popular nationwide, having originated in Tuscon, Arizona, in 1974 and just recently expanded to the east coast and New York City. According to Sherman, the Hawthorne shop has been in business for more than twenty years. The success of Buffalo Exchange has led to the opening of other resale chains like Red Light, which opened its doors in Portland in 1999 after a successful start in Seattle.

“We have a really diverse clientele,” Sherman says of the shop’s patrons. “We are shopping for moms, teenagers, punk kids, skaters, jocks—a little bit of everything.” She notes that they look for fashions that are in line with trends in retail. “Within any of those little subgroups we are trying to stay current.” A burgeoning culture of dedicated vintage shoppers thrives in Portland and adds to the diverse resale clientele. These patrons are usually looking for fashions that resemble a certain period or older trend. “There are a lot of people who are really into vintage thrift store stuff,” Sherman says. “People who don’t necessarily want to go to a Goodwill and dig. It is almost like we shop for them.”

Resale shopping is a popular trend in part because it can benefit the environment. Sherman hears people say they feel like they’re making a positive difference. “People feel good shopping here,” she says, “We are pretty involved in the community.” Buffalo Exchange offers bins to donate any items they don’t buy to charity. If you opt not to take a bag for your purchase they will donate five cents to a charity. Local causes such as Animal Aid and Oregon State Parks Trust routinely benefit from these proceeds.

The Red Light, just across the street from Buffalo Exchange on Hawthorne is also aware of the positive environmental effect resale shopping can have. On their website they quote the Environmental Protection Agency in saying, “An estimated 11.8 million tons of textiles were generated in 2006, or five percent of total municipal solid waste generation.” The Red Light adds that “buying and selling used clothing keeps it out of landfills!”

While the positive effect on the environment is a definite benefit of the resale scene, the positive effect on the wallet is the driving force behind the shopping trend. Once buyers determine how much your item might sell for, you can get 35 percent in cash or 50 percent in trade for your item at the Buffalo Exchange. At Red Light, the trade value is emphasized at 55 percent. “We have seen a lot more people selling recently,” Sherman says of the economic climate. “Since the economy took a dive people are really interested in getting money, but people are still interested in getting recycled fashions at a good price.” Regarding whether to choose cash or in-store trade, Sherman adds, “It is still pretty even, but I think a lot of people are looking for the money.”

According to a U.S. Census Bureau report, retail sales for January 2009 are estimated to be 11 percent below those reported in January 2008. This trend is evident in the number of empty store fronts appearing in neighborhoods all over Portland, as well as cities and towns across the nation. Adele Meyer, executive director of the National Association of Resale and Thrift Shops and author of A Guide to Opening A Resale Shop, describes the resale industry as one of the few recession-proof segments of retailing. She notes that the resale industry often does better, even thrives during an economic downturn. “People always love a bargain,” Meyer said in a USA Today interview, “Nowadays, it’s just more necessary.”

Although this necessity is apparent in the crowd of shoppers at Buffalo Exchange this Sunday, Sherman says this recession has been different, worse than others. “We didn’t think we would be [negatively] affected by it,” Sherman says of the recent economic woes. “We typically do really well through recessions. We have taken a small up and down, but it has been sporadic.”

The line winds down to us, and I watch as the buyer picks through my items with a discerning eye. She prices a few items and pitches them into a basket behind the counter. The rest is packed into my bags and handed back to me—it is my choice to donate the remainders to charity or to try my luck at another resale shop. Figuring that in this economy someone out there certainly has it worse off than I, I drop my remaining items in the donation bins. At the checkout counter I get in line to obtain my newly earned cash, listening as the seller ahead of me also opts for cold, hard cash over the 50 percent trade incentive. She has a baby in a stroller and a toddler gripping her pants. Beside the stroller sits an overstuffed garbage bag. It looks as though most of her items didn’t make the resale cut. There are rents to be paid and mouths to feed. I glance back into the shop and see my roommate in the shoe section looking at a pair of flats oddly similar to those she just traded in. Those unwanted gold flats were scooped up, priced, and tossed into the bin to be distributed on the selling floor. My roommate’s scrap is sure to be another’s score.

***

Lauren Saxton manages a medical publication at Oregon Health and Science University, but likes to moonlight in the literary world during her time off. When not at Portland State University scraping together a master's degree in publishing, Lauren might be found at a Portland coffee shop with her head in a book or skimming the racks at a thrift shop looking for clothing to reconstruct.

Hat Fancy: A Southeast Portland Museum Dedicated to Headwear

Written by Angie Frank
Edited by Jennifer Nelson

Upon entering the Hat Museum, you can’t help but feel slightly anxious at what is about to be seen. Will you be entering some haunted house filled with old hats, or will you be viewing a prim and proper historical museum where hats are encased in glass boxes? Well, thankfully, the scene is a little bit of both worlds. Kitschy, yet historical, the Hat Museum is an experience unlike any other. The museum, which is nestled in the historic Ladd’s Addition of Southeast Portland, houses a collection of over nine hundred hats, the largest collection of hats in North America (the only other museum that contains a comparable number of hats is located in the United Kingdom).

Tiaras, fedoras, berets, homburgs, caps, and any other hat you can think of in every imaginable shape, color, and design are placed on mannequins, in glass cases, and on various antique tables and other furniture through out the house. The tour is a ninety-minute long adventure where guests are trotted through various rooms of the house to see hats from movies such as Chicago and Gangs of New York. What makes it special from other museums’ in the Portland area is its extensive collection of rare hats and its founder, Alyce Cornyn-Selby.

Cornyn-Selby, the curator and founder, is an integral part of how the museum came to fruition. Cornyn-Selby greets guests and gives the tour dressed in a long, black velvet skirt and jacket, with a ruffled shirt peeking out. She, of course, wears a big flowered hat on top of her head, positioning herself as the official mascot of the museum. Cornyn-Selby, a motivational speaker and author of eight books, including Hit the Road, Procrastinator’s Success Kit, and Why Winner’s Win, lived in the house for more than thirty years, beginning in the mid-1970s. She spent extensive time renovating and trying to keep the original house intact.

She also began filling the house with collectibles she loved, including most notably hats, along with mermaid figurines, antique furniture, shoes, and purses. Cornyn-Selby began collecting hats, she says, because she felt that they were the ultimate fashion accessory and a necessity to her everyday life. “I love hats,” she states affectionately, adding that a hat is a perfect accessory to any outfit. Her core belief in the power and greatness of hats even extends to her motto on the Hat Museum’s website, which says that one can find love with the help of a hat: “Wear a hat that you love and love will find you. Wearing the right hat will get more attention than a personal ad.”

The love of hats and the love of the home is a predominant theme that is echoed throughout the museum. Cornyn-Selby maneuvers guests through a web of rooms filled with hats, antique furniture, and other treasures beginning in the would-be living room which houses hats from as early as 1860. Classic pictures of Diane Keaton, Queen Elizabeth, and Jackie Kennedy wearing hats are scattered throughout the museum, along with adages such as clothing designer Christian Dior’s famous comment, “Without hats, we would have no civilization.” Cornyn-Selby struts through the museum pointing out the beauty and necessity of all the hats, even as you silently question the practical need for an automated Thanksgiving table hat (with music and all). Zebra, flowered, leopard, velvet, manly, and dainty hats fill the rooms and hallways of the three-story residence where picture-taking isn’t allowed (the flash can bleach out the hats) but questions are welcomed.

Cornyn-Selby’s affection has even extended to keeping the original structure of the house intact. The historic Ladd-Reingold house was originally owned by William Reingold, a local businessman, and his wife, Rebecca. The lavender colored house surrounded by trees and bushes sits near the edge of the historic Ladd’s Addition roundabout that is the centerpiece of the area. The Reingolds first built the house in 1910, where Rebecca Reingold, a trained milliner, made hats and raised their children. Rebecca’s milliner training is an integral part of what the house has become today. Pictures of Mr. and Mrs. Reingold still inhabit the house, and Cornyn-Selby has worked hard to keep the family’s history and the original construction a part of the museum.

The former home-now-museum, Cornyn-Selby points out, still has its embedded quirks, like the doors that are hung backwards and the secret hiding places. The rickety floorboards and staircase are kept to remind guests that this place was once a home. The house and the tour is set up like a hall of mirrors, but instead of seeing yourself, you’re seeing a home stuffed with amazing and colorful hats. It is clear during the tour of the museum that Cornyn-Selby takes pleasure in what the house has become. The eclectic atmosphere of the museum is as much of a testament to her as it is to hats.

In addition to seeing the nine hundred-plus hats, visitors are also given an array of interesting facts by Cornyn-Selby. People initially wore hats to keep their hair clean because shampoo had not yet been invented. The Edwardians believed that if they went to bed with wet hair, they would die. Hats, however, have more recently developed into more than a necessity, but a fashion accessory as well. The hat industry continues to thrive today, with hats still being used by top fashion designers as well as the masses, which is emphasized in the museum tour. So next time you put on your crocheted beret or your worn baseball cap, remember that seemingly useless fashion accessory could save you from the elements while simultaneously making you look stunning. One way to really learn this is to visit the only place in the U.S. that actually shows it.

The museum is a literal celebration (and bombardment) of all the things that can be situated atop one’s head. The odd, automated hat with a rabbit popping out of its top is just as cherished as the vintage, Victorian era hat encased in a glass box. The tour, which needs to be arranged in advance and costs ten dollars, gives its guests not only a chance to view the extensive assortment of hats but also teaches the necessity and history of hats in general. Its oddball premise and its fervent cheerleader, Cornyn-Selby, make it a must-see, not only for visitors to the area but also for residents of Portland.

-Address: 1928 SE Ladd Ave. Portland, OR 97214; for reservations call (503) 232-0433

Angie Frank is a self-proclaimed genius on all things cinematic and carbonated. She hopes to use this knowledge to pursue a career in journalism.