Florals and frills go head-to-head at the Proenza Schouler cocktail party
Some fashionable attendees get their pic snapped at The Room's Proenza Schouler cocktail party
Proenza Schouler designer Jack McCollough 'smizes' at me. Swoon!
It’s hot today. Like, crazy hot. I’ve left my kids at home and have taken the train in from London to hit up two events: the Victoria’s Secret Bombshell party hosted by super-freak-of-nature Doutzen Kroes and a Proenza Schouler cocktail party at The Room. Stoked as I am, I can’t help but focus on today’s dilemmas:
1) It’s 31 degrees outside and I’m wearing Spanx.
2) As ‘Style Reporter’ I’m supposed to look hot - but not the sweaty kind of hot
3) The event’s being hosted by Doutzen Kroes so is #2 even possible?
4) My bag weighs about 100 lbs since it’s holding my MacBook and massive camera
5) I’m not entirely sure that I know how to pronounce Doutzen. Is it Dootzen? Dowtzen? Kroos? Kross? Krose? At least I know it’s Skooler
5) One dress has to do double-duty for a fun patio party and a swanky cocktail affair. I’ve found a dress that’s cool and casual - perfect for the patio but is it good enough for cocktails with Jack McCullough and Lazaro Hernandez?
And you think you have problems.
I exit St. Andrew’s station and strut purposefully down King St. towards the Spoke Club. Men glance appreciatively as I walk by and if I’m honest, I’m kind of loving it. I smile at boys in business suits and toss my hair a little as I pass by a group of guys drinking beer on a patio. A shady dude approaches me at a light and keeps repeating ‘Pretty girl. Prettttyyy girl. Ugh. Pretty girl.” I’m freaked out yet flattered. He stumbles across the street and I watch him approach an older man. “Pretty girl. Pretty girrrl.” My strut eventually morphs into a slow stroll as my 100 lb. bag joins forces with gravity to pull me down. I’m sweating, my feet already hurt and I’m still about 6 blocks away. I bet Doutzen’s in her Town Car right now being fanned by her own little supermodel wind machine.
Finally! I arrive at the Spoke Club and am instructed to head up the 4th floor patio where the VS Bombshell Party is in full swing. Cool club beats float through the air and a sexy scent of sweet florals and citrus fruit makes me feel like I’ve dived straight into a mojito. I head immediately for the bar and grab my first glass of champagne. Ahhh. The team from New York is there to take us through the summer lineup of bikinis and lingerie, including the Miraculous Push-Up Bra which promises to lift you up and out, instantly adding two full cup sizes. The PR girl encourages me to touch the mannequin so I can see for myself; I cop a feel and am shocked by the amount of padding hidden underneath its lacy exterior - my husband likes to call it ‘false advertising’. Next, she tells me about their 4 limited-edition summer scents: Heavenly, Bombshell, Very Sexy and Noir. I’m not a huge fragrance fan but love the light and fresh Bombshell Summer scent with its hits of grapefruit, black currant and lily of the valley. Next, a VS makeup artist shows me how to get the golden glow of a swimsuit model. She puts a shimmery bronzing body lotion on my arm, and touts the benefits of their bronzers because “when you’re wearing nothing but a string bikini, you need to glow EVERYWHERE!”. I get a relaxing hand massage (SO appreciated by a blogger like me) while we wait for Doutzen to arrive.
The loud buzz quickly turns to a hush as she glides into the room. Doutzen falls gracefully onto a bench and takes a long drink of water while everyone reaches for their iPhones to tweet about her gorgessity. In an instant, I’ve gone from feeling fab to frumpy and an editor next to me deadpans, “I’m going to need lifelong counselling after this.” She’s amazing in real life - perfect hair, not an ounce of cellulite and I’m pretty convinced that instead of sweating she just ‘dews’. I manage to snag an interview with her and we start chatting. She quickly reveals in a breathy voice that she’s just flown in for the day because she has a 4 month-old at home and is still nursing. We commiserate over babies and breastfeeding while the ‘Supermodels: They’re Just Like Us’ headline runs through my head; that is, until she tells me how excited she was to get back into a bikini again. My Spanx give my thighs a consoling little squeeze. I ask her how she’s gotten her post-baby body back into shape, hoping for some tips. “It’s genetics and exercise. I’ve exercised my entire life and I don’t know...my mom was just like this after she had babies. I guess I’m just very lucky.” Darn.
Fast-forward to 7:00 and The Room at the Bay is packed with the movers and sashayers of Toronto’s fashion scene. Lisa Tant, Shinan Govani and Sarah Nicole Prickett rub shoulders with socialites like Suzanne Rogers and the ever-OTT Stacy Kimel who’s rocking a crazy fascinator. A flock of fashion editors breeze past me holding cute little clutches as I struggle to move through the crowd with my 150 lbs of bags (VS swag bag added to the mix), and search the crowd for a familiar face. I run into a few people I know but since I moved out of the city 6 years ago, I start to wish I had my clique back. I sit down on a padded bench, relieved to finally be able to put my bags down and strike up a conversation with a woman next to me. I find out that her name is Mary and she’s there with her son who ‘loves fashion’ and always picks out her clothes. She’s wearing a pretty blue jacket, is positively dripping in diamonds and throughout the course of the evening, reveals to me that she was a model in her fifties and once ran for political office in North York. She’s thrilled to be at this party because “it’s pretty exciting for an 84 year-old gal like me.”
I ask her what she thinks of Proenza Schouler’s clothes; she thinks the fall line is ‘really beautiful’ and I couldn’t agree more. During a road-trip to Santa Fe, Jack McCullough and Lazaro Hernandez were inspired by Native-American blankets and the result is a cool mix of pixelated prints and rich knits. In person the pieces are truly magnificent; fiery reds and oranges, brilliant marigolds and hits of blue pop beautifully against a rich backdrop of rusty browns and deep blacks. Though it’s hot in The Room, I don’t mind looking at the warm knits and sumptuous velvet pieces because they’re so ridiculously gorgeous. The Proenza guys mingle with the crowd and though I don’t get a chance to actually interview them, Jack nods and grins at me as I take his pic. Heaven!
Mary and I spend the rest of the night exchanging style tips while her son fetches different pieces that catch his eye. A cute server who Mary calls her ‘boyfriend’, keeps bringing us trays of delicious canapes and keeps our glasses filled (hers with water and mine with Cooralook, my new favourite Pinot Gris). After the designers quietly leave the building and the crowd begins to dissipate, I thank my new friend for making my night. I’d had so much fun that I forgot all about my dress, my bags my Spanx and my non-Doutzen-Kroesiness. My last dilemma? How am I going to look as good as Mary at 84?
