Just because the holidays are over, doesn’t mean the momentum of #shoplocal should end. From Lydia Okello in L’Intervalle to Donté Colley in 4ye, here are a few friendly faces we saw sporting Canadian brands on social this week while making the case for cozy chic.
Internet boyfriend and positivity advocate Donté Colley took us on an intimate night walk through Toronto recently, and he observed a few of the city’s landmarks while wearing an eye-catching slogan scarf from Brampton-based streetwear brand, 4ye. The accessory’s message – “4ye for the community” – is especially potent given our current COVID situation and the loneliness and distance we’re all experiencing.
Putting the “win” in winter lewk, writer and model Lydia Okello paired bold boots from Montreal footwear label L’Intervalle with a decidedly downtime outfit of leggings, a thick-knit sweater, puffer and vibrant toque. And we couldn’t agree more with their post’s closing line: “Also, reminding myself that a fat bod in casual clothes is just as ~off duty chic~ as a thin supermodel wearing the same thing.”
Mosha Lundström Halbert in Jenny Bird & Therma Kōta
Mosha Lundström Halbert – fashion editor and co-founder of the outerwear brand, Therma Kōta – not only gave us major ice queen energy wearing a style from her label’s collection. She was also wearing chunky chain necklaces from Toronto-based accessory line Jenny Bird, proving that more is indeed more when it comes to Canadian design.
It would surprise exactly no one to hear of most new celebrity-brand partnerships. A-listers team up with beauty brands (like Zoe Kravitz and YSL Beauty), fashion brands (like Jennifer Lopez and Coach), and fartoomanyfragrance brands to mention here all. the. time. The latest celeb partnership trend, however, made us pause: a handful of celebrities have recently announced that they’ve teamed up with sexual wellness brands. Our thoughts? If pairing a celebrity name with sex toys is what it takes for people to feel more comfortable discussing and exploring their sexual health and wellness, we’re here for it. Read on for what Lily Allen, Cara Delevingne and Dakota Johnson have to say about the sex toys and sexual wellness brands they’re backing.
Lily Allen and Womanizer
Womanizer Liberty by Lily Allen ($119), at womanizer.com.
British singer Lily Allen has been a vocal supporter of the Womanizer long before she became an ambassador for the brand in late 2020. “If I had to pick one vibrator above all others, it would be the Womanizer,” Allen wrote in her 2018 autobiography My Thoughts Exactly. “It can make you come in twenty seconds, or if you keep it going up there, it will reward you with ten orgasms in a row.” Now, Allen has her own hot-pink limited-edition version of the clitoral stimulator out now.
Model and actor Cara Delevingne is co-founder and creative advisor for sex tech startup Lora DiCarlo. Delevingne told Fast Company that working in the space was something she had “been thinking about for a very long time” and wanted to find the right brand to partner with. “I grew up pretty repressed and English in terms of sexuality,” she added. “That relationship that you have with yourself is the most important one in the world. And this is not just to do with pleasuring yourself, but it’s about exploration and loving yourself.”
Admittedly, partnering with a sexual wellness company is not off brand at all for this Fifty Shades movie star. The 31-year-old actress is an investor in Maude, which bills itself as a modern sexual wellness company. Its non-intimidating, architectural vibrators are a favourite of Johnsons. “I love a good vibe, for obvious reasons,” she told Vogue. “But the pH-balanced Wash is wonderful. I am really soothed by the idea that a product I use on my body is helping my body be the best version of itself.” Canadians can shop Maude from Indigo.
With the winter doldrums creeping in to layer on top of the continuing COVID-19 crisis, you might find yourself in a slump when it comes to feeling inspired, upbeat and optimistic right now. But Toronto-based jewellery entrepreneur Annalay Ajooway-Tingling offers a sunnier outlook for our current mood – not just through her brand’s travel-influenced designs, but also by way of the reflections on her own journey previous to and throughout the pandemic.
Ajooway-Tingling’s first experience in the fashion industry came in her early twenties: while in university, she was involved in the modelling and acting sphere. “I found out quickly that I was considered ‘too curvy’ at the time to be taken seriously as a print model,” she recalls. “So I found myself in television, and that went really well. I had a nice run of high-profile commercials and I really enjoyed it.”
But eventually Ajooway-Tingling – who describes herself as “someone always seeking knowledge and experiences” while searching for answers to life’s big questions (“What’s my purpose? Why are we here? What’s the best way to live our lives?”) – says she wasn’t finding satisfaction with where she was in life. “I wasn’t getting those answers working in that industry, or at school,” she says.
Aspiring to pursue a life with meaning, Ajooway-Tingling began traveling with the man who ultimately became the father of her children. During their decade of globe-trotting, Ajooway-Tingling ended up in India. “I focused my attention on meditation and spirituality and world culture and different viewpoints on life and unity,” she says.
Ajooway-Tingling had read about a remote monastery in the Himalayas and decided to venture there herself, and after serendipitously meeting the brother of one of the residing monks the day after her arrival she found herself spending several months at the monastery when they asked her to teach them English. It was a powerful and transformative time.
One of the key things she learned while there was about her preconceived notions regarding their lives. “Something I hadn’t thought about was how naturally joyous they were,” she says about her ideas of monastic living, before delving into it herself. “No matter what happened, they made sure they were laughing throughout the day.”
After a while, Ajooway-Tingling began to miss her home, and she returned to Canada with creative juices flowing. The vibrant, diversely-decorative cultures she’d found herself immersed in while traveling – not to mention the ability to unify two people simply by complimenting someone on what they’re wearing – motivated her to launch her eponymous jewellery label in 2013.
The brand’s selection arouses all manner of vibes, from wanderlust (thanks to the use of materials like Cowrie shells) to cosmic. Recently, Canadian actress Tara Spencer-Nairn posted about purchasing a few pieces from Annalay including a Zodiac-themed pendant – not only something very intimate, but a look that speaks to the current surge of interest in astrology.
Being attuned to what we’re all feeling is a strength of Ajooway-Tingling’s, who says that during the summer months of the pandemic, she found herself walking Toronto’s shoreline in order to capture transportive images that would ignite a bit of self-soothing and sense of local discovery within the Annalay community.
“When the pandemic started to unravel, I thought to myself, you have two paths you could walk right now,” she says about being confronted with a business decision; not only was she completing her own school work because she was continuing her education, but she had the task of being a single parent to children who were now always home. “I thought, do I stop this or pause it, or do I amplify it?”
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ajooway-Tingling chose to amplify as she sensed her own tenacity and curiosity could be a touchstone for others who were suffering any manner of lockdown feelings. And she highlights the uplifting quality of self-expression through dressing as another realm of positivity, noting that she’s always thrilled to receive messages from customers who say they can’t wait to wear their piece around the house to brighten their day.
“Before, I think there was this sense of, where can I wear this,” she says about how she feels the general perception of style has shifted over the year. “I think the pandemic has changed people’s mindset in terms of thinking, I love something but I need an occasion to wear it, as opposed to I love it [and] I deserve to wear it for myself.” She adds with a laugh that her kids will often ask where she’s headed all dressed up, to which she could respond with, “I have to go to the post office” or sometimes, just the kitchen.
The gusto with which Ajooway-Tingling approaches everyday life is palpable, and her thoughts moving into 2021 are just as enthusiastic despite the myriad personal and professional hardships that everyone is facing. “I’m feeling good because the pandemic was scary but we’ve seen how resilient we are,” she notes, saying that she’s personally “taking everything I’ve learned and applying it very consciously.” This includes “not being intimidated by technology” – something we rely on more heavily than ever before. And this idea is followed by a piece of advice she offers to us all. “[It’s about] empowerment and not intimidation,” she says. “Find where you feel comfortable, and move with that.”
Intrigued by tarot? “Tarot is an extremely helpful introspective tool for those who are open to exploring themselves and the energies that they’re working with,” says Canadian clarity coach Chris Corsini. We spoke to Corsini to understand how can tarot cards can help us take on 2021 with purpose and intention. (For an astrologer’s take on the year ahead, read this.)
What are the benefits of tarot?
Tarot assists with “shadow work,” essentially, examining the parts of ourselves we don’t like or were taught not to like because of societal, religious or cultural norms. “Once you start exploring tarot,” says Corsini, “you can begin to question those things. You start asking yourself: do I believe this? Is this something I still stand by?”
Note: Tarot is not fortune telling, nor is it astrology. Rather, it’s more of a confirmation of what you are already feeling, which can help people feel empowered in their decision making.
Can anyone use tarot cards?
Short answer: Yes. “Sit down and start pulling cards, and familiarize yourself with what’s coming up,” says Corsini. “The booklets that come with the deck are always very helpful, but remember that’s just a jumping off point.” For example, if you pull a card and it indicates something to you personally– go with that. Just because the card doesn’t precisely represent that doesn’t mean your interpretation is wrong. “Your intuition is going to guide you better than a booklet,” he says. (For a primer on tarot and a detailed breakdown of what each card symbolizes, go here).
Corsini recommends any new tarot user attend a workshop; he offers them in both English and ASL on a pay-what-you-can basis). Podcasts are another great resource; Corsini likes Tarot for the Wild Soul with Lindsay Mack. Biddy Tarot courses and booklets are also a popular educational option.
How often should I pull tarot cards?
“When people begin on their tarot journey, I always tell them to set a limit,” says Corsini. “You will drive yourself crazy if you ask every question and are pulling 35 cards a day – don’t do that.” Create a ceremony for yourself once a week, max. Another good way to structure your readings could be every new and full moon (so twice a month). “Pull cards for friends or relatives if you want to add more than one reading a week for practice,” he suggests. This is just a guideline for beginners, notes Corsini, who pulls three cards every morning – one each for his body, mind and soul – and asks, what energies am I working with today?
What other questions should I ask the tarot deck?
The answer to this will be very personal, however Corsini suggests the following to get started: where’s my energy best served right now? Where is my attention best spent? What do I need to let go of? What do I want to bring in? Is this good for me? Is this something that is in alignment with my path? Should I take action? What is the potential outcome if I continue to behave this way?
This year is a good time to ask questions in general, says Corsini. “There’s so much information flying around right now. This will lead people to question their beliefs, which is good, but then they can also be misled,” he explains. “Do your research, ask more questions, talk to your friends, talk to your communities and build new ones. Be open to conversations.”
What does tarot tell us is coming in 2021?
Again, the answer to this will be personal, but looking at collective energy, Corsini shared this: it’s not going to be a breeze. Expect slowdowns until May. “Don’t make any major moves, don’t rush anything,” he says. “It’s a time for planning, slowing down and taking time for yourself.” Of course, life goes on and you should always listen to your own intuition if you’re offered something big, like a promotion, during that period says Corsini.
Come summer, you will begin to get answers, clarity and/or results. Letting go of old structures will be a theme that begins during this time, and will carry on during the fall and winter. September through the end of the year will require patience once again – but expect some wins as well. “In order to get to the next cycle, we need to go through a release again,” says Corisini. “Let go of the people and things that aren’t in line with the results that just showed up for you earlier in the year.”
Vancouver-native Jackie Rhind got the idea for OVRY, the direct-to-consumer company aiming to make pregnancy and ovulation tests more affordable and sustainable, from personal experience. Rhind has a blood clotting disorder that precludes her from taking hormonal birth control and would often find herself buying pregnancy tests at pharmacies where the markup was high and the tests had large single-use plastic handles. “We deserve a better option,” says Rhind of people who have a need for the tests.
Her lightbulb moment came while using a small test strip to identify ketosis when she was on the keto diet. “I thought, they should have this for pregnancy tests,” says Rhind, who discovered strip pregnancy tests do exist and are often used in doctors offices and hospitals. “I realized there was a need to build a trustworthy brand with really high-quality products in a less wasteful, more convenient format where people can order them discreetly from their home.”
Enter OVRY. Its pregnancy tests are 109 times smaller and use 99 percent less single-use plastic than any midstream test found at the drugstore. A small box of four OVRY pregnancy tests retails for $18 and a large box of 18 pregnancy test is $36.
OVRY strip test.
Rhind says consumers are vulnerable when it comes to purchasing pregnancy tests. “I’ve been there. You go into the store and look at the cheap version and more expensive versions [of the pregnancy tests available] and just think to yourself, ‘I don’t care if it’s an extra $7, I want to work,’ but you don’t have the information that these tests could all have the same accuracy.”
It’s a common misconception, says Rhind, that the more expensive the test is, the better it is. “Largely, that is not true,” she explains. “Pregnancy tests are highly regulated and must meet high standards or they would not have clearance to be sold.”
Less expensive tests available at some bargain stores may be sold closer to their expiry date. This wouldn’t necessarily make them less effective, but you wouldn’t be able to keep the test on hand as long as others. (OVRY tests, which are manufactured in Canada and approved by Health Canada, have a 24-month shelf life from their manufacturing date, which is clearly marked on the packaging.)
OVRY Combo boxes of pregnancy and ovulation tests, available from $17 at myovry.ca.
Unlike midstream pregnancy tests, strip pregnancy tests need to be submerged into urine. When used properly, they have the same accuracy as midstream tests, says Rhind. OVRY pregnancy tests are 99.7 percent accurate and its ovulation tests are 99.2 percent accurate. The test strips are also ultra-sensitive, which means they are able to detect the pregnancy hormone HCG at a lower threshold, thus detecting pregnancy earlier than tests that do not offer this.
Since launching in late 2020, the range of people using OVRY has been wide, says Rhind. The biggest consumer has been people trying to conceive, naturally or through IVF, who are going through high quantities of tests. “Athletes who experience irregular cycles are another group we’ve heard from,” says Rhind. “They don’t know if they are pregnant or just training really hard.”
OVRY’s inclusivity has been by design. “We want to ensure we’re not excluding people that don’t usually get spoken to, but that our products are absolutely eligible for,” she says. “When you normalize non-gendered language, it sets the bar and encourages other businesses to follow suit.”
In a new photo dump on her eponymous website, Beyoncé has shared never-before-seen images of her three kids, Blue Ivy Carter, who turns 9 years old on January 7, and twins, Rumi and Sir Carter, 3.
Titled “B at 38,” the photos look back over Bey’s 38th year, which included: a romantic dinner on the beach for two (not pictured: Jay Z), playing in the sand with her kids and a birthday cake covered in icing bees.
The photos follow a video compilation released on New Year’s Eve, which you can view here, that included 2020 highlights we already knew about, like her multi-year Peloton partnership and releasing Black is King on Disney+.
“Cheers to a New Year Beehive!! 2020 divided us and united us. Most could not see loved ones and we felt too many loses, but we were united by our humanity,” Knowles-Carter captioned the video. “This year for me has been about celebrating joy, chasing happiness, and living in love.”
“As we all look forward and pray for new beginnings, my wish for you is that you honor yourself and those you love. Celebrate that you are an important individual who contributes to our beautiful collective. Here’s to a better and brighter 2021! Love, B.”
Bey opened up about her having her daughter, Blue, earlier this year in a cover story for British Vogue, saying “Something cracked open inside of me right after giving birth to my first daughter. From that point on, I truly understood my power, and motherhood has been my biggest inspiration. It became my mission to make sure she lived in a world where she feels truly seen and valued.”
See the new, very adorable family photos of Blue Ivy, Rumi and Sir Carter below.
Another day, another celebrity beauty line. Today, Halsey announced About Face, a vegan and cruelty-free line of colour cosmetics. The singer/songwriter, whose real name is Ashley Frangipane, is the latest person in a long, long line of celebs (Jennifer Lopez,Selena Gomez, Lady Gaga and Rihanna, to name just four) in launching her own beauty product line.
“Makeup is an art and art is about happy accidents, not any one ideal of perfections,” said Halsey in a statement. “I always feel the most free when I am creating looks without following nay rules. The beauty industry has norms, but I want to encourage people to challenge those standards and allow things to be imperfect and fun.”
“Many of you may already know that I have done my own makeup for concerts, red carpets, magazine covers, and music videos alike for a long time,” she added, in an Instagram post. “It is one of my greatest loves, but I have always stood firm in the belief that makeup is about feeling cool—not looking perfect. I have worked tirelessly on this for years with an incredible team and i hope you feel my DNA all over it.”
About Face Anti-Valentine’s Day collection, launching launching February 1, 2021.
The first About Face drop will include 40 products, from highlighters to lip crayons and eyeshadow sticks, all with a focus on high-intensity colour. The line was developed alongside the creators of Smith + Cult, Hard Candy and Goldie.
All About Face products are free of parabens, gluten and synthetic fragrances. “I have an autoimmune illness, so I’m very sensitive to what goes on my face,” she told Byrdie, of her reasoning behind the formulation choice. “And a lot of my audience, they’re really young, and I just don’t want anyone putting stuff on their face that’s going to hurt them down the line.”
About Face will launch on January 25. The line is currently available for purchase through the brand’s website – and yes, it ships to Canada (we checked) – and through a year-long partnership with Ipsy.
As someone who has been acting since the age of 12, it’s no wonder that Hailee Steinfeld relates deeply to poet Emily Dickinson who, though from a different era, was also someone who came into her own as an artist from a young age.
The 24-year-old actress (and former FASHION cover star) recalls being “very intrigued” after reading the first two episodes of Dickinson, an Apple TV+ show that debuted last year. When one hears “it’s a show about 19th century poet Emily Dickinson,” that may conjure up a somewhat stuffy picture that’s vastly at odds with the exuberant, eclectic show that it turned out to be. (Just a couple of its absurdities: modern slang and hip-hop music in a period setting, and rapper Wiz Khalifa as Death.)
“I remember reading it and loving it and being very intrigued,” says Steinfeld over the phone. “Alena Smith [the creator and showrunner] just painted this very vivid mental picture of what this show is in those first two episodes and way beyond. It just instantly made sense to me and was something I knew I wanted to be involved in.”
Read on for our interview with Steinfeld about playing an iconic figure like Emily Dickinson, how the costumes served as a metaphor for the constraints women faced during the 1800s, and the “weird” energy of the show, whose second season premieres January 8 on Apple TV+.
The show does such a good job of showing the spirit and energy of this historical figure that we’ve really only ever known through words on a page. What was it like bringing the character to life in such an unexpected way?
With other versions of Emily Dickinson’s story having been told, it was made very clear from the very beginning that what we were doing was not an autobiography. This was taking her poetry and making of it what we imagined might have been her thought process while writing these words. And that sort of opened up this world of endless creativity and freedom to run with. You read her poetry and for me it always takes a couple of breaks to sort of remotely get what she’s trying to say before I understand it. And that’s the beauty of it. You keep going back. Using that poetry as the driving force of this show was what made it so fun to shoot.
image courtesy of apple
Emily Dickinson is such a strong feminist character, and even though she lived in the 1800s what do you think about her is resonating with people today?
Just the fact that she was faced with so many obstacles as a woman, as an artist, as a young woman, as a human being who simply wanted to be understood. I feel like, you know, as humans we’ll always fight to be heard. We’ve obviously come a very long way thankfully and don’t have to go through what they went through at the time. She existed in a time very different than ours but still faced the same challenges and overcame them ultimately.
What I find interesting is that she kind of kept her art and poetry close and was hesitant to share it with the world. I’m curious whether, as an artist, you understand where she’s coming from?
I do… I do, but one thing that I don’t know and hope I’ll never know is not being allowed to share my work. I completely understand and can relate to not wanting to or being afraid to or being unsure of the idea but I’ve never not been allowed. I don’t know what I would do or who I would be without my music and my acting and writing and dancing and all of these forms of expression I’ve been able to experience. Again, I hope that’s something I never experience or never know like Emily did.
One word that was used a lot in reviews and online discussions about Season 1 was “weird.” There are so many interesting choices on the show, particularly the language and the music, that give it that weird energy so I’d love to know your thoughts on the irreverent vibe of the show.
I mean, yeah it’s definitely weird. I’ve called it that quite a few times. But it’s more than that. It’s honest behaviour that comes from these people. I think what makes it weird is maybe the fact that it’s in the 1800s or the fact that they’re wearing corsets and the decor is different. I don’t know, it feels very honest and truthful, the way that these people react to certain things. I guess it’s the parallels we’re making between our times versus the time that the show takes place [that make it weird]. I guess it’s the characters too and some of the writing. Yeah, I don’t know, it’s out there.
image courtesy of apple
You mentioned corsets so I’d love to take a minute to talk about the costumes and how they helped you get into character.
It feels like an instant sort of line into that time. Putting on those corsets and the 29 petticoats that go with it, I mean it absolutely will transform you, physically, mentally and emotionally. It affects everything from the way you talk to the way you move. It’s a real physical constraint, and the women of that time had no choice but to deal with that. It plays into everything else that Emily is feeling, all of the other constraints mentally and emotionally. And as an actor, it’s kind of a dream to have something like that to get you there.
I’d also love to know about the relationship between Emily and Sue. We know that there’s a romantic relationship there but there’s also deep friendship and mutual admiration. So tell me a bit about playing that, and highlighting what was a pivotal relationship in the real Emily Dickinson’s life.
One thing about Dickinson overall: the show is truly about not putting people in a box. It’s about not labelling somebody’s behaviour. Emily is searching for someone who sees her and understands her and loves her for who she is. She is different, and she knows that. She thinks differently, she acts differently, she just moves differently than everybody around her. Sue is somebody who understands that and still loves her. And it just is a beautiful relationship. The way it evolves in Season 2 is heartbreaking and beautiful and messy and wonderful. It’s all of the things! But it’s a relationship I’m so grateful is such a huge part of the show, because love is love, and it’s about seeing and being seen, and that’s what our show is ultimately about. I love the relationship between Emily and Sue, and it’s been really wonderful playing it out in real life with Ella [Hunt].
What do you think you’ve learned through the process of playing Emily?
I feel as though I’ve learned so much. I mean if Emily was able to get through what she got through in her time, just as far as fighting for what she loves, fighting for what it is that keeps her alive and feeling creative and free in a time where everything and all of that was forbidden, then I definitely can (laughs). I’m so inspired by her and how she was, how we believe her to be, as a human and as an artist. The list really could go on. I just think she’s an incredible human and unbelievably talented. What a cool person she must have been.
For centuries, we’ve accepted the belief that creativity is connected with the burden of an unsound mind. Countless members of the fashion world have burned out, fallen from grace and, in the most tragic of cases, taken their own lives because the way the industry has often functioned – quickly, unscrupulously – has left little room for some of the most admirable talents to find peace during the creative process, let alone while they’re enduring the taxing aspects of entrepreneurship and, now, a global pandemic.
But thanks to the dismantling of discomfort around discussing mental health issues, it’s becoming less taboo to talk about the troubles experienced in one’s personal and professional lives. To inspire your own pursuit of calm and clarity, five creatives share how they’re managing, coping with and nurturing their mental health.
Adam Taubenfligel
Adam Taubenfligel
Transcendental Meditation (TM) – a mantra-centric practice done 20 minutes a day, twice a day, to be considered effective – came to Triarchy’s creative director, Adam Taubenfligel, at the most opportune time. “I was having brunch with a friend in L.A. and complaining to her about how I just never seemed to be able to snap out of the way of life that I’d always known and that it wasn’t working for me,” he recalls. “It was the same complaints over and over again, and it seemed weird that I kept doing things the way I’d always done them and wasn’t progressing at the rate I wanted to.”
His friend mentioned that post-brunch she was planning to attend an information session about TM. “I felt that I had nothing to lose,” he says of why he decided to join her. It ended up being a moment of great impact, turning Taubenfligel’s attention inward – initially in a powerful, unpleasant way. “It’s brutal because the first few days of doing it, you’re purging so much stuff that it actually manifests physically and you feel it,” he says. “I almost gave up because I didn’t want to feel like that. It was horrendous. But then you get into a groove with it, and I’ve been doing it every day, twice a day, since then.”
Taubenfligel first tried TM six years ago and says that while he always does the morning meditation as soon as he wakes up, the recommended 4 p.m. practice isn’t always feasible given his packed schedule. “It’s hard to get into because you don’t think you can dedicate the time, but when you do, it really changes your output,” he notes. “The days when I do the 4 p.m. one, it is often more effective than in the morning—there are studies that show that 20 minutes of TM give you the same benefits as three hours of REM sleep. There are times when I’ll come out of the afternoon meditation and feel like it’s a whole new day.”
TM hasn’t just given Taubenfligel a renewed sense of time during his day to day and motivated him to pursue other personally beneficial choices, like elective sobriety; it has also driven him to add the mantra “Take a deep breath. Sustainability begins with mindfulness.” to the inside of Triarchy’s ethically crafted garments.
The courses that teach someone TM aren’t free, and Taubenfligel recognizes that this can be a deterrent. But he says that knowing how his money is spent – via the David Lynch Foundation, which manages TM teachings – makes it worth it. “It goes into their programming, where they teach TM in inner-city schools and prisons,” he says, highlighting that the foundation is also able to modify course costs based on someone’s income level. “To me, that’s money well spent because it’s going to the greater good.”
Trish Ewanika
Trish Ewanika
In the early days of lockdown, Trish Ewanika was dealing with the reduced pace of her fashion line’s production as well as the recalibration of orders she had placed for her eponymous boutique. Unlike in the past, when she’d typically work a 12-hour day, reprioritizing meant she could explore different ways of tending to her sense of calm. “I made sure I was home before it was dark because the streets were empty and it was weird,” she recalls of the energy shift in the typically bustling annex neighbourhood where her shop is located in Toronto.
“I’d find myself at home at six or seven o’clock – when normally i wouldn’t be home until 10 or 11 – and wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” she says. “Like a lot of people, I thought a cocktail sounded like a good idea. I’d make one, put a few olives in a bowl and then sit down to read – something i also hadn’t had the quality or quantity of time to do before.”
Noting that she would have been travelling to Palermo, Italy, in may, Ewanika soothed herself instead by “picking up The Leopard by Giuseppe Di Lampedusa and some novels by Natalia Ginzburg.” Some of the effects of quarantining in Toronto also lent themselves to transporting her to a European destination, including the fact that bars turned into bodega-style storefronts and you’d see more people picnicking in parks. “I hope some of that stays,” Ewanika says of her fondness for a less hurried way of life.
Some of it will change, though, as the winter looms, and now Ewanika – who has returned to doing pilates classes to keep her strength and balance up – is pondering other ways for her mind to escape. “I’m thinking of going back to playing the piano,” she says. a friend who takes lessons inspired her to revisit this skill, which she first studied in her youth, and she says that unlike doing crochet (another suggestion from a friend), which is “too close to her work,” plonking away at the piano is something that will keep her mind occupied in a different way than work does.
Ewanika – known for her minimalist and largely seasonless designs – is also nurturing aspects of simplicity and slowing down when it comes to her work life. “Time isn’t ours to manage the way it used to be,” she says, highlighting how much longer things in her business operations take because of delays and virtual hiccups. “You have to give yourself a break on that account. now, I’ll pack up and leave at eight and say ‘it’ll just have to wait until tomorrow’ because my health and mental well-being override anything that feels urgent at the moment.”
Lauren Chan
Lauren Chan
“I started therapy around the time that I launched Henning,” says Lauren Chan, a New York-based entrepreneur in the plus-size space. “I decided to do it because I was very stressed out. It was also something that I had heard a lot of female founders talking about—the necessity of keeping yourself well when you’re running a business.” It also helped that in her circle, seeing a therapist wasn’t something to be shy about. “In New York City, it seems like everybody has a therapist, and it’s very normalized in a really beautiful way,” she notes. “Perhaps I notice this because I surround myself with progressive, creative people who want to be in tune with that side of themselves and have that aspect of wellness in their lives.”
She used two digital platforms – Psychologytoday.com and the app Talkspace – to find a mental health professional she felt she could trust and who would understand her. While she used to see her therapist at their office near Washington Square Park, quarantine has forced Chan’s sessions to move online for the foreseeable future; it’s a circumstance that initiates a helpful way of framing the many roadblocks one can encounter in a day. “I can’t control the timeline of when I’m going to physically be back in an office with somebody,” she says. Chan further highlights the ways in which seeing a therapist has helped her reconsider her approach to her work life, which she says had been causing her to lose “the ability to compartmentalize and cope in a lot of ways.”
“The biggest lesson I’ve learned through therapy is to be a little less forward-thinking and to reel back some of the ambition and competitiveness that comes from having a work personality like mine; it has helped me to be a little more considerate and to feel more level,” she says. “It ended up being great timing because now we’re in a massive slowdown in the fashion industry, and these tools, which I had been working on for almost a year prior to the pandemic, have been incredibly helpful,” she says about starting her sessions after kicking off her business in the fall of 2019. “I don’t know – and I don’t want to know – how deeply stress would have affected me during this crisis for small businesses over the past six months.”
Lesley Hampton
Lesley Hampton
Toronto-based designer Lesley Hampton has relied on physical activity throughout most of her life to preserve a sense of determination, clarity and focus. “I started horseback riding every weekend at the age of seven,” she says, adding that when she moved from Canada to Australia as a teenager, she enrolled in a school that had an equestrian program. The mental and physical conditioning required for competitive sports proved useful during her adolescence and provided the self-starter spirit that she needed to found her eponymous fashion brand in her early 20s.
Hampton’s design work has been deeply influenced by her athleticism and her efforts to keep fitness part of her daily routine as her body changed. She says that navigating her feelings toward the typical visuals of what a “physically fit” person looks like is an ongoing obstacle. “Once I grew past the Xl size, it was harder for me to put myself out there in workout clothes,” she says. “It’s something i still struggle with.”
Musemo Handahu
As someone who lives their life on the internet, content creator Musemo Handahu has self-care practices that are intrinsically linked with her career. The Halifax-based fashion blogger, who has over 50,000 followers on Instagram, makes an effort to share how she mitigates the impact of not only the large-scale anxieties of 2020 but also more individualized issues.
“I’m really struggling right now,” she says about the restrictions that quarantine has resulted in. “Travel has always been my most important method of self-care, and not having that has started to take its toll on me. It doesn’t only boil down to seeing family and my best friends; travelling also allows me to experience really important moments of Blackness and Black culture. That’s important to me because where I live, there aren’t a lot of people of colour who are creatives. You can feel like the city is erasing you in some way. Now, I’m wondering, ‘What’s the next step for survival?’ And I wonder if other Black people who live here are feeling the same way.”
To offer insight into how she combats the feelings that come along with this notion of erasure, Handahu is candid about her coping mechanisms. She took up cycling in the summer and was pleased by the unexpected results. “Initially, it was going to be my form of exercise,” she notes. “But when I started riding my bike, it changed to just wanting to get some air. I’m not necessarily concerned about burning calories but about feeling some sort of freedom.” And in an Instagram post in late August, Handahu posted about “the things [she needed] to do to get through a day,” which included “cried – a lot” and “laughed – a lot.”
She divulges this information to give a more well-rounded perspective of herself on her social media feed—something she thinks her community is craving now more than ever. “I think people view me as someone who has a lot of confidence,” she says. “Being transparent about bawling my eyes out shows a level of relatability to my followers. I think we’re all tired of perfection – of always seeing these
put-together people and having this idea that they don’t go through things, when that’s not the case.”
Revealing her need for moments of levity is equally important to Handahu. “It’s about allowing yourself the grace to actually step away from something that’s over- whelming and giving yourself a moment to breathe – that’s what laughter represents to me,” she says, adding that she’ll hang out with a funny friend or watch a stand-up comedy show when she needs a mood-lifting break. “It’s me saying ‘Yes, the world is really screwed up right now, but I need to have a moment of joy. I’m going to take that for myself.’” Handahu notes that it’s important to remember that when you’re opting to take time for these moments, be they happy or sad, being purposeful about it is key. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for allowing yourself to step away for a bit,” she says. “We can’t always be carrying the burden of what’s happening in the world 24/7. It’s not healthy.”
Once upon a time, I entered the world of modelling. As a tall, slim 12-year-old, I was offered a spot in a “model house” (a residence where several models live together at one time) in New York. I remember how excited my agent was when she shared the news with my mother and me—and how crestfallen I was when my mother said she was against it. For almost every objection she had, I silently responded in my head: “Her safety!” my mom said; I said, “I’m sure there are bodyguards.” “Her education!” my mom said; I said, “I’ll bet there are tutors.” “Her mental health!” my mom said; as a preteen, I had no clue what she was worried about. As I continued my modelling career, I soon came to the realization that modelling and my mental wellness were often at odds, and I had to learn how to rebuild my self-confidence.
Growing up, I adored glamour. My friends’ extra-curricular activities consisted of gymnastics and dance lessons, while mine were acting classes. I begged my parents to take me to casting calls. I watched Fashion Television faithfully every Sunday, sitting enraptured in front of the TV while Jeanne Beker lifted the veil and showed me a vision of what I hoped would be my future. I practised my runway walk, trying to emulate Naomi Campbell and Yasmeen Ghauri; perfected my photo shoot angles in the mirror; and waited impatiently for my big break.
It felt like it came when I signed with a modelling agency in my Southwestern Ontario hometown, but that break snapped when the aforementioned New York offer was rejected by my mom. I could understand her safety and schooling concerns, but I didn’t have a clear concept of what mental health had to do with anything.
When I moved to Toronto a decade later and rededicated myself to my dream of modelling, I began to understand the connection. Rejection and race are the two things that affected me the most. Choosing to enter the modelling industry knowing how notoriously cutthroat it can be is one of the wildest choices you can make, especially if you aren’t mentally prepared for it. When I was younger, not getting booked for a job stung, but I was always excited for my next chance. In my 20s, I had a much better understanding of what was at stake, so each failed casting call or agency meeting hurt more than the last.
Ultimately, I knew I was being judged by the very foundation of myself – the things I couldn’t easily change, if at all.
The most public thing about us is our body, but our relationship with it can be extremely private and complex. The realm of modelling only focuses on the public and makes no space for the rest; that’s a lesson I learned quickly. Standing in front of a potential agent or casting director and being told exactly how to walk – and then being poked, prodded and measured – was jarring for much longer than it wasn’t.
Placing a portfolio in front of a fashion gatekeeper and trying to decipher the look on their face as they flipped the pages twisted my stomach into knots. Sure, I could always change my hair, and the wizardry of makeup could give my face new angles and contours, but, ultimately, I knew I was being judged by the very foundation of myself – the things I couldn’t easily change, if at all.
My quietly competitive nature had been honed during my youth by playing basketball and running track and by attempting to exceed academic expectations. But model- ling was different. I didn’t see how I could work harder or do better after losing out on a gig. For whatever reason, my face wasn’t right or my body wasn’t right or my walk wasn’t right, and the subjectivity of fashion meant that what one gatekeeper detested about me, another loved. Finding a quiet place in my mind to go to, where I allowed that subjectivity to free me instead of locking me into a mental prison of picking myself apart, required a lot of work. Sometimes it was just easier to join the chorus of judgment and level it against myself, too.
The journey to a more diverse and inclusive fashion industry has been a slow one.
The journey to a more diverse and inclusive fashion industry has been a slow one. I still remember the agency meeting where I was told progressive by booking a Black model, but they didn’t know what to do with us. And I was hyper-aware of how differently I was treated, compared to other models. It became an odd mental space to be in, where I refused to apologize for my Blackness but felt like a lone fish swim- ming in an anti-Black ocean. Why did no one else see how wrong this all was? Why was it more acceptable for white and other non-Black industry folks to treat my Blackness like an annoyance than to make these spaces more truly inclusive? I really began to question my participation, because the anxiety before, during and after a job began to weigh on me.
After I became a mother, I questioned my participation even more. Getting booked for commercial campaigns where I played a “young mother” role always had me cast with a Black “father” alongside very-light-skinned or biracial children. Genetics is a funny thing – two Black people can produce children with various phenotypic qualities; however, these casting choices seemed more like a statement on acceptable presentations of Blackness than an acknowledgment of genetic variance. Was I being complicit in what felt like the erasure of children who looked like mine? My anxieties now didn’t just centre on how I felt about myself in the industry but also on what my children would think and feel when they saw images like these.
Pulling back from modelling helped me address the guilt I felt in those moments as a mother, quieted the anxieties around feeling like an inconvenience and helped me deal with the wounds the constant rejection had given me. It was a process of dismantling negative thoughts and replacing them with new positives about myself. It was a process of finding different ways to highlight discussions about diversity in fashion so that eventually no one will ever feel less than genuinely valued and welcome.
My anxieties now didn’t just centre on how I felt about myself in the industry but also on what my children would think and feel when they saw images like these.
It was a process of constantly empowering my own two daughters; I may no longer play the mother to little girls who get lighter and lighter in each subsequent photo shoot, but if this limited presentation of Black beauty persists in the Canadian industry, my daughters will need a buffer for their self-esteem.
Thinking back, I remember feeling that Jeanne Beker was giving me a peek into my future—one full of glamorous moments. But that glamour came at a cost that I couldn’t conceive of in my youth. Once I had the mental capacity to be able to better handle the challenges of the industry, I had aged out of the “ideal” of youthfulness. (Ageism in fashion is another discussion that needs to continue.) And while I thank the industry for giving me the experiences it did, I thank my mom – and her seemingly excessive concerns – even more.
This article originally appeared in the November 2020 issue of FASHION magazine.
In the seven years I’ve lived in Toronto, I’ve managed to stuff 74 pairs of shoes into my tiny shoebox apartment. Since the COVID-19 pandemic began, I’ve only worn two: comfy grey Allbirds sneakers and a scuffed pair of No. 6 clogs that I kick on and off every time I need to pop downstairs and take out the trash.
As the world settled into varying stages of mandatory quarantine, everything in my carefully curated wardrobe – including my beloved collection of Victorian witch boots – began to feel all wrong. My closetful of monastic, architectural black dresses suddenly felt stifling and constrictive instead of stately and majestic, so they remained untouched while I rotated through three pairs of Lululemon leggings, laundering them only when they had accumulated enough cat hair to be considered repulsive. Despite skimming through a number of well-intentioned articles offering advice on “how to stay sane during quarantine” that suggested “getting dressed up” might add a shred of normalcy, and perhaps dignity, to one’s routine, I simply couldn’t see the point.
For as long as I can remember, fashion has been the organizing principle of my life.
In quarantine, there was nothing to get dressed up for. What good are all these shoes, I thought, if my social life is confined to Houseparty dates with my friends, our heads squished into little squares on my phone and the rest of us unseen? With nowhere to go and no one to share clothing with, it felt like a waste of time. The perennial question of what to wear – once a leading source of creativity and joy – all of a sudden held no thrall whatsoever.
For as long as I can remember, fashion has been the organizing principle of my life. Some kids are drawn to insects, baseball cards, dinosaurs or Disney movies, but my thing has always been clothes. During my childhood, I anticipated back-to-school shopping at Zellers with a feverish intensity. And once I started earning money at an after-school job, I spent hours performing complex search and rescue missions for vintage Ferragamo pumps and men’s Lacoste cardigans at the local thrift store. To this day, I’d rather spend money on clothing I can cherish than on intangible, ephemeral things like plane tickets or fancy meals. My wardrobe is a mirror in which I can gaze and see myself reflected exactly as I want to look. My closet is, in essence, a collection. Individually, each item is of relatively little value – a testament to my well-honed thrifting skills – but collectively my wardrobe is my life’s work. Numerous theories attempt to explain why people are drawn to collecting.
For me, clothing is a way to ensure control amid the cacophony
In his 1931 essay “Unpacking My Library,” scholar Walter Benjamin writes, “Every passion borders on the chaotic, but the collector’s passion borders on the chaos of memories.” He suggests that collectors are driven by the “thrill of acquisition” and that each new possession represents a means of imposing order on the chaos of the world. Psychoanalyst and art historian Werner Muensterberger, whose 1994 book Collecting: An Unruly Passion is considered the authoritative text on the subject, suggests that the impulse to collect begins when infants are first separated from their caregivers and glom on to objects such as teddy bears or blankets to placate their loneliness. Some adults, writes Muensterberger, never grow out of this habit. They continue to use objects as a way to quell the anxiety of operating in an uncertain world.
I can relate. For me, clothing is a way to ensure control amid the cacophony. Much like Muensterberger suggests, I’m an anxious person for whom uncertainty is in itself a form of suffering. But in the shelter of my closet, I’ve managed to create a miniature universe in which everything makes sense. Curating my closet allows me to exert control even when agency is otherwise hard to come by. It may sound neurotic, but it’s what works for me.
When COVID-19 struck like an errant lightning bolt, clothing no longer offered me the sense of security it had been providing for so long. There was no use pretending anything was normal, so I gave up the act. I abruptly relinquished my desire to dress like myself, denouncing structured garments in favour of soft, yielding clothes that grew and shrank with the contours of my body – almost more living thing than object.
Even pre-pandemic, my work-from-home outfits skewed more The Big Lebowski than Breakfast at Tiffany’s. But most days I had reason to change out of the frowzy duds and style myself into a creative character – like “Morticia Addams meets Texas oil heiress” or “art collector with an extensive collection of Black Flag vinyl.” Now, when I leave the house, my style is more akin to Homer Simpson in a flowy floral muumuu.
Now, when I leave the house, my style is more akin to Homer Simpson in a flowy floral muumuu.
After months of social distancing, I no longer wake up feeling like the natural order of life is in free fall. This is just the way things are. I remain resistant to anything clingy or too close to the body (a few attempted dalliances with rigid jeans have lasted less than an hour), but I’m slowly starting to find my old reflection again.
As I write this, I’m wearing a black-and-white-striped turtleneck underneath black overalls – a utilitarian look I favoured in the Before Times. I have yet to return to my beloved dramatic sleeves or Victorian witch boots, but my leggings are folded in a drawer, no longer an everyday item. For now, my style is precarious. But in my daydreams of dressing up again, I find resilience.
