Imran Amed and Alexandra Suhner Isenberg during their live conversation at OPUS Bar.

The digital revolution has had an incredible impact on the fashion industry in the past few years, dramatically changing the way that brands communicate. This was the theme of the evening last night at OPUS Bar, The Business of Fashion and the Digital Revolution, with my guest of honour, Imran Amed. Most of you would have heard about how Imran’s blog, Business of Fashion, is my fashion bible, so it was an great coup to have him join us last night here in Vancouver.

Our on-stage conversation, amongst an intimate group of Vancouver’s fashion elite, touched on some of the key issues affecting the fashion industry at the moment. Imran talked about how Burberry was one of the leading luxury brands in the digital revolution, using the example of their website, the Art of the Trench, which featured user-contributed photos of people wearing their trench coats as well as pictures taken by Scott Schuman, who is best known for his street style blog The Sartorialist. We also discussed Arcade Fire’s recent video release, which allows viewers to view the music video on the street they grew up on, using technology from Google Maps. This concept of individualizing an experience for the customers is one of the great benefits of using social media.

Imran also talked the rise and impact of the bloggers, which he feels has not yet reached its peak. His suggestions for brands new to social media was to consider it part of their business strategy, and to research everything properly before jumping on to the “social media bandwagon.” The digital revolution is here to stay, and brands need to consider their long term online initiatives as important business strategies, not just something to be handed down to “the youngest member of the team.”

Thanks to everyone who made last night’s event such a success, and a special thanks to our sponsors, OPUS Bar, Vancouver College of Art and Design, and Skyy Vodka.

Lisa Tant (Flare Magazine), Jason Matlo, Jill Killeen (Killeen Communications), and Imran Amed.

Rebecca Tay (Fashion Magazine), Imran Amed, and May Globus (Sweet Spot.)

Stephen Bailey (John Fluevog) and Michael Belgue (Hobo Magazine.)

Jody Kirk (Gravity Pope) and Heather Martin (Mono Clothing.)

Leila Bani, Rebecca Tay (Fashion Magazine) and Alexandra Suhner Isenberg.

Photos by Bronte Robertson.

To my Vancouver readers: Obakki and Fashion Magazine are holding a customer event tomorrow night in the Water street store, with amazing discounts. Plus you’ll get a chance to meet the amazing Rebecca Tay! All you need to do is send an email to rsvp@obakki.com. Obakki is definitely one of the best Vancouver fashion brands and everything is made right here in Vancouver. So if you want free drinks and gorgeous (discounted) clothes… drop them a line!

BoF Fashion Pioneers | Natalie Massenet in conversation with Imran Amed from The Business of Fashion on Vimeo.

I am getting very excited about my Business of Fashion and the Digital Revolution event on Monday, and as a teaser, I’ve embedded the last Business of Fashion – Fashion Pioneer event, which was with Natalie Massenet from Net a Porter. I spend a many hours a month drooling over the goods on her site, and this interview gives us an insight into how she runs the company, and where things are headed for them and the fashion industry in general.

If you don’t have half an hour to watch the video interview (if you are a fashion student, FIND half an hour) then there is a blog post that includes a summary of the event, read it here.

For those of you attending on Monday, I can’t wait to see you all! Check out this Q&A with Imran on the Flare blog. Thanks again to my sponsors, OPUS Bar, Vancouver College of Art and Design, and Skyy Vodka.

I am pleased to announce that I will be hosting my first event in Vancouver. I know most of my readers are not in Vancouver, so I’ll try and limit coverage to two posts, but I am very excited! The event, whose theme is “The Business of Fashion and the Digital Revolution,” will be an intimate affair with Imran Amed, the founder and editor of the Business of Fashion. You may have heard me harp on about how much I love his blog, but it is basically the best fashion industry blog in existence. If you are in the industry it is an absolute must-read. For those of you not working in the fashion industry, but fascinated with all of the ins and outs, it is a very good blog to read in order to keep yourself up to date.

Imran Amed (Photo by Daniel Cianfarra.)

I met Imran at Christmas, when he was visiting family in Vancouver. I knew he was coming back in August, so I suggested we do an event, which would not only give me the opportunity to associate myself with him and his blog (nice!) but also to get him some exposure over here. A lot of people read his blog, but hardly anyone knows he is a Canadian.

So we are doing a small event at OPUS Bar at the end of August, which will include a short onstage interview (discussing our evening’s theme), followed by networking (yes, Vancouver people, I want to teach you how to network. A very underrated activity in these parts.) Of course none of this would have been made possible without OPUS Bar, who is providing the lovely venue, Vancouver College of Art and Design (one of the fantastic fashion schools I teach at), who is sponsoring the event, and to Skyy, for making sure the cocktails will have lots of vodka.

If you really should have been invited (you are local media or industry) and you haven’t been, then please get in touch. And to some of my darling students, particularly the ones who have been Searching for Style subscribers since day one and never failed to get good grades…you may be in luck. I might be extending a few invitations out to students closer to the event date.

(Oops, more special thanks to Fiona, Bronte, and Johana. You guys are awesome.)

Cabaret Rouge is the cabaret troupe my friend Justine is involved in. I haven’t seen them perform, but I’ve seen a lot of the photos of their shows on Facebook. When I was in London in the spring, I stayed with Justine and she was preparing for a military-style show they were going to be performing the following day. The dance moves were amazing and the outfits she described sounded incredible.

Here are some of the photos of that routine. I am infatuated with the outfits from this show, the super high cut latex bodysuits, the thigh high latex stockings, and the military insignias on the sleeve. Combined with their crazy “military” dance moves, the show looks amazing. I can appreciate burlesque and show girl acts, but this is a nice change from the usual shows. Cabaret Rouge has a residency at Cafe de Paris in London called the Wam Bam Club every Saturday night, if you are ever in town.

Thursday was Jason Matlo’s birthday (I won’t be number specific here…) and he threw a party on a rooftop in a stunning apartment in Gastown. The orders were “dress to kill” so I used the opportunity to wear one of my fancy dresses. I have two dresses with trains, both of which are quite nice but have never been worn. So I thought this would be a good opportunity, since I knew I wouldn’t be walking around too much and I could trust the crowd not to step all over my dress.

The dress is a bias cut, beaded Jenny Packham gown, and I wore it with some Chanel skin art (tattoos.) There were only a few photos of my dress in full, but they didn’t look good, so I’m afraid you can only see the upper half. Take my word for it, it is a beautiful gown! But I should also say that wearing a train is very hard work, and I salute al the women who manage it with grace. I am glad I wore a mini at my wedding.

Jason Matlo, his mother Bernadette, and myself.

Trish, wearing Jason Matlo, and James.

Lyndi and Josh, the accessories man.

Gorgeous Roger Vivier shoes.

Two fine gentlemen.

Jason, when he saw his cake. He was so excited that he was about to eat some carbs

The cake by Shelome Bouvette and macarons from Paris.

Glen and I.

All photos by Bronte Robertson.

This is a two part Fashion Moment (about shoes…again.) The first part is about how I got the shoes, and the second part is about when I christened them.

Part 1: The Acquisition

My very good friend Florence, who is responsible for giving me two very important pairs of shoes in my life (I’ll tell you about the Prada’s another day) used to work for Azzedine Alaïa. I hope that you all know about Alaïa, because he is a fashion legend. I am not going to tell you his story today, but I’ll tell you that he is famous for his bodysuits (amazing), being the 90’s supermodel’s favourite designer, bandage dresses (yes, he invented them, and Herve Leger, his employee at the time, stole and exploited his design), sexy corset belts, and beautiful shoes. If you don’t know the name, but it sounds familiar, the red dress Cher is wearing when she gets mugged in Clueless is an Alaïa (“an a-what-a?” says the mugger. “An Alaïa,” says Cher “it’s like, a totally important designer.”) That sums it up.

Anyway, one day Florence and Nora called me from Paris (I was in London at the time) to wish me happy birthday and told me they had a present for me, and wanted to know my shoe size. (Fyi, this was about 8 years ago.) Let’s just say, I knew that I wasn’t going to be receiving a pair of Converse in the mail.

This is a serious shoe box.

A week later, I had a slip in the mail from DHL, who said they had tried to deliver a package. I had a feeling it would be my present from Paris, so I re-booked the delivery for the next day, told my work I’d be arriving late as I had something VERY important to deal with, and then tried to get some sleep, despite the build up of the “new shoe excitement.”

DHL arrived the next day, and I signed for the package and tore open the packaging. It was obviously a shoe box, so when I say tore, I should probably say I ripped the paper off with the urgency of fashion-obsessed shoe lover who was about to own their first pair of Alaïa shoes. A serious, frenetic, desperate urgency.

But this is were the story takes a turn. Normally you’d tear open the paper and tear open the box to see the shoes. But the box required a moment of appreciation. More than a moment. Alaïa shoes come packaged in a box that is unrivaled by any other shoe brand (I haven’t seen them all, but I’ve never seen something like this. And I’ve seen my fair share of shoe boxes.) It is an archive box with a leather strap and a buckle. You know right there and then, you are dealing with a serious pair of shoes.

Once I got over the beauty of the box, I undid the strap and saw two shoe bags laying side by side, both in that beautiful dusty pink colour that Alaïa uses for the soles and lining of his shoes, as well as the dust bags. I opened a dust bag and my heart skipped a beat. These were the shoes I had eyed in Colette, the ones with the incredible straps that wrapped around the heel.

At that stage, I knew two things. 1- That I was indebted for life to Florence and Nora, and 2 – I would need to find a very special event to wear these Alaïa shoes, since they had a dusty pink satin heel. This means they won’t work at a party, where drinks are likely to be spilled. Nothing where you may be out in the rain for more than two seconds. Not a dinner, since they’d be wasted hidden under a table. And no event where I was likely to be on my feet for more than an hour, because they were HIGH. And extremely fragile.

Even the dusty pink dust bags are beautiful.

Part 2: The Debut

A few months later, an opportunity to christen the Alaïa shoes came about. I was in the process of starting my own business at the time, and therefore had no income so I was waitressing. I used to waitress in a horrible restaurant in Covent Garden, which I will refer to as the Crack Pipe (not its real name, although a crack pipe would have been far more pleasant than this mouse-infested hell hole.) The Crack Pipe was quite near to the Royal Opera House, and one day a customer left a brochure in the restaurant, with the opera schedule. Tom and I had always promised ourselves we would go to the opera together one day, and I was just waiting to find one that was worth the expensive ticket price. And there it was, La Traviata was playing at the opera house, and that is my favourite opera. But the problem was, the production had already begun, which meant there was a very slim chance there’d be any tickets left.

I ran to the Royal Opera House and was told there were a few tickets left, either limited visibility nose-bleeder seats for $40 each, or Stalls Circle Left, for $400 each. Me being the person who always chooses the cheapest option (NOT), I forked over a week’s worth of waitressing wages to go to the opera and sit Stalls Circle Left for La Traviata.

Of course now the problem was the date. Tom would have been perfect, as he is the perfect English gentleman, owns a suit (not a given considering the crowd I used to frequent), and would have stayed awake throughout the whole show. But he was not my boyfriend at the time, just my MBFF. Tom was the perfect male best friend forever (our dates were expensive restaurants and fancy political events, he always called me back, I got on well with his Moms) without any of the emotional “love” stuff that can get messy. Instead, Ben was my boyfriend. And Ben is very particular about his money, which he had his fair share of. Ben would spend money on Eames chairs, botox, and La Prairie eye cream, but not to take me out to dinner. And certainly not the opera. (By the way, the La Prairie was for himself, I was not allowed to touch his expensive creams.)

I offered the ticket to Ben, but told him there was no pressure, I could go with Tom. But to my dismay, he wanted to be my date. We planned his outfit (turtleneck sweater, trousers, blazer) and I planned mine. To be honest, I can’t even remember what I wore, only that it involved the dual debut of my beautiful mink stole, and my Alaïa shoes.

I love the delicate straps that wrap around the satin heel.

Ben told me he would come to pick me up. Now here is where I should perhaps blame myself, because obviously, I hadn’t made myself clear about the conditions in which he should pick me up. Ben owned a giant white van which he used to cart around his vintage 1960’s furniture (that’s his business, so if you are looking for beautiful 60’s furniture, check out his store.) Ben also owned a 60’s Volvo sports car. Some would think that for a trip to the opera, the sports car would have been the better option. But not Ben. He drove the white van. With the broken passenger door. So the passenger had to crawl over the driver’s side to get to their seat. And no heating. And no music. And filled with van driver garbage: food , tools, whatever. Not a good start to the evening.

After that, the night went downhill. He almost dozed off during the performance, complained about the price of drinks (yet had no problem with me spending a week’s wages on our tickets), argued with me about where to have desert after, and then complained about the price of the taxi home (I had refused to go in the van.) Let’s just say that was the beginning of the end of Ben and I. But the shoes looked amazing, and their christening, a night at the Royal Opera House, was exactly what they deserved.

God is in the details: the tiny triangular buckles.

Now all I need is an opportunity to wear the shoes again. Have they been wasted, sitting in a box for 6 years, only to be taken out for caressing and admiration? No, they are classic, and will always look beautiful. And now that I know they are overdue for an outing, I think they will be taking me out soon.

Read my other Fashion Moments here.

(Tom, if you are reading this, can I just say that you should have been my date to the opera. I miss our platonic oyster and champagne feasts. I miss insulting Daily Mail readers with you. I miss our seamless transitioning between tea rooms with Bentleys parked outside to smelly Camden pubs with stolen bicycles outside. Come visit us in Vancouver!)

Imagine a day where you can wear the most ridiculous hat in the entire world and hang out with the Queen. Yup, it’s Ladies Day at Ascot. I’ve done a Love and Loathe for some of the Ascot Ladies’ Day photos, but you must all realize that this event is in a league of its own, one where a giant lego building on your head is ok. So the usual style rules do not apply.

Let’s start with the dresscode, from the Ascot website:

Her Majesty’s Representative wishes to point out that only formal day dress with a hat or substantial fascinator will be acceptable. Off the shoulder, halter neck, spaghetti straps and dresses with a strap of less than one inch and miniskirts are considered unsuitable. Midriffs must be covered and trouser suits must be full length and of matching material and colour.

And now, the hats!

I love…

Joan Collins' shoulders. Amazing.

a giant chocolate box on your head.

a close-up of the chocolates. I wonder if they are real?

drama!

a mouse eating gouda cheese. On your head.

a hat the shape of a building, made from lego.

when your date has a matching lego hat.

a big, beautiful brim.

I loathe…

sitting around eating fries when you are in the presence of the Queen.

the Queen. Sorry, I am not a fan. And don't get me started on her husband.

a ridiculously big orange feather brim.

balloon hats.

a very tacky peacock hat.

overdoing the tulle bows.

All images from Getty Images.

The glass pyramid on the grounds of the Louvre, over top the Carrousel du Louvre.

Women’s Wear Daily announced today that the Carrousel du Louvre will not longer be one of the official Paris fashion week venues. According to WWD,

“The underground network of catwalks was conceived and constructed specifically as a communal venue for the presentation of fashion shows. It opened for the spring 1994 couture season, with Karl Lagerfeld’s Chanel haute couture the first collection shown. The Carrousel was intended as an indoor improvement to the tents that for years had been installed seasonally in the grounds surrounding the Louvre. Though a major hit in the early days, the past decade has seen a flight of fashion majors from the venue. The Chambre Syndicale is said to be looking at other venue possibilities in the center of Paris.”

This news makes me a bit sad, since I attended and worked at many shows in the Carrousel, and therefore it has sentimental meaning to me. There are so many good things about that space: it is near Colette, you don’t have to wait outside when in line to enter a show, the backstages are actually big enough to properly get ready for the show, it is in the center of Paris, and it is near several museums (in fact, it shares a building with the Louvre and the Musee des Arts Decoratifs.) But it is true that the space can get a bit boring and predictable, there are only so many different ways you can transform a room.

On that note, I’d like to start a new feature on Searching for Style, called Fashion Moments. This will be an opportunity for me, and hopefully (eventually) some guest authors, to write about some fantastic fashion moments they have had. I’d like to start with my first experience at a Paris fashion week show, which was not at the Carrousel du Louvre, but was truly a defining moment for me.

My first real catwalk show experience was backstage at Sonia Rykiel, sometime in the late nineties. The show was in the Espace du Moulin Rouge, so part of the famous cabaret venue in Montmartre. The backstage was TINY, in fact, everyone was on top of each other, screaming. It was dark, and usually the hair/makeup area is separate from the dressing area, but the backstage was so tiny we were all squished in together. It smelled of…backstage of a cabaret. Cigarette smoke, foundation, and sweat.  I was dressing Kirsty Hume, who was so nice (I had requested to dress her, I loved her.) Stella Tennant was being dressed next to me. Naomi Campbell arrived ten minutes before the show was scheduled to start, so she was rushed through hair and makeup while all the backstage photographers were clamoring to get photos of her, and everyone (the photographers, hair, makeup, and dressers) were screaming “Naomi” to get her attention. It was chaos. They played Michael Jackson’s Don’t Stop ‘Til You get Enough during the show. I was this little Canadian girl, who had no idea what was going on, only that I had to make sure the models didn’t steal the shoes, and that Kirsty got into her outfits on time. Magic.

Images: pyramid and Moulin Rouge.

The CFDA awards took place last night (Council of Fashion Designers of America.) The red carpet was marginally more palatable than most events, probably because we are looking at fashion designers’ outfits, rather than celebrities. Fashion designers know more about getting dressed than celebrities do (that’s their job!) Despite this, there were some grim ensembles, but on the most part, everyone looked good.

Here are some of the award winners, and my comments.

Board of Directors Special Tribute: Alexander McQueen
-He deserves it, obviously

Womenswear Designer of the Year: Marc Jacobs
-Marc, you are fantastic, but it is boring if you win stuff every year.

Swarovski Award for Womenswear: Jason Wu
-You dress MObama = you get awards.

International Award: Christopher Bailey for Burberry
-Boring. Christpher Bailey is fantastic, but moving on please!

Geoffrey Beene Lifetime Achievement Award: Michael Kors
-For using the most amount of camel in his collections, and being the most American.

Eugenia Sheppard Award: Paper’s Kim Hastreiter
-Read what Walter Cessna says about her on Thursday in my next Fashion Chat post. He has some great gossip. I’m not sure she deserves this.

L’Oréal Popular Vote Award: Ralph Lauren
-Popular vote? I guess this makes the USA one of the most boring countries in the world.

I love…

Aerin Lauder Zinterhofer in Michael Kors. She looks so fresh and happy. But who wouldn't be happy with that family fortune?

BeeShaffer in Thakoon and Anna Wintour in Carolina Herrera. This may be the first compliment Anna has ever gotten from me.

Betsey Johnson with her daughter Lulu. I am not a fan of her designs, but at least they "represent" and are great poster girls for the brand.

Gaby and Donna Karan. Another great mother/daughter brand ambassador combo.

JasonWu and Rachel Weisz in Jason Wu. That dress is beautiful. I'll bet MObama has one.

Joseph Altuzarra and Vanessa Traina in Joseph Altuzarra. She looks fantastic in that sharp, sexy dress. Too bad she is just another "waste-of-space-heiress."

Rachel Zoe in Marc Jacobs. We certainly can't accuse her of changing her style every season. At least it suits her.

Sarah Jessica Parker in Alexander McQueen. The dress looks stunning. And this is probably the last time we are going to see her out in public wearing something other than Halston Heritage, so let

I loathe…

Alexa Chung in Marc Jacobs. The dress is quite nice, but she looks frumpy and out of place.

Doutzen Kroes in Michael Kors. How can one of the hottest women in the world (even I have a crush on her) end up looking...so lame. The dress is boring, frumpy, and predictable, the shoes are disgusting, and her hair makes her look fifty. What the hell is going on here?

Kim Hastreiter from PAPER magazine. Speaking of frumpy...well actually, I'll let the necklace do the talking.

The OlsenTwins and Sasha Pivovarova, all wearing The Row. They look like a bunch of depressed goths trying to cheer themselves up by incorporating some white into their shapeless, unflattering wardrobe.

Tamara Mellon in Threeasfour with Derek Blasberg. I don

Thom Browne in his own design. This is not the way to promote your brand. You are doing yourself damage.

Vera Wang in her own design. Eat something, please.

Zac Posen and Devon Aoki, wearing Zac Posen. Two former stars reduced to dressing like they are seventy years old.

All images from Style.com.

By the way, Tommy Ton’s photos of the guests arriving at the CFDA awards are much nicer than the ones above, to see them, click here.