So the other day I had the chance to meet Alexander Wang at Holt Renfrew in Toronto. Prior to this experience, you should know that A-Wang was above and beyond my favourite designer in terms of ready-to-wear collections. He is this quiet twenty something Parsons drop out with shoulder length locks. So polite, so soft spoken.
The truth about this experience is that it gave me a chance to not only have a face to face conversation with the designer, but also see a few pieces from the fall/winter 2010 collection, to interact with other A-Wang lovers. This situation really changed my attitude and feelings toward Alexander.
Each of his followers were dressed in A-Wang styled looks and hardly even peeked at the pieces that surrounded us. This is the thing about Toronto: Unlike New York, there are only a select few people that have interesting style. It's cold and generic. There is no passion, no natural ease to fashion. One spending time in this city might ooh and ahh over the sea of American Apparel uniforms or spot the odd vintage piece paired with delicious American Eagle jeans. What I'm trying to say is that those who seemingly have a spot of style are the ones who are privileged enough to purchase clothes from places like Holt Renfrew. They don't have style, they just have the dollars needed to purchase said style. But back to Alexander Wang. Case in point, the crowd was made up of A-Wang wannabes and wealthy old hags and their boarding school daughters. Have some originality Toronto!
It's not that his designs are generic, its that they belong to a family of generalized, widely available to the public, simplified gothic with a hint of masculinity.
Conclusively, I must say that the event wore down my love for Alexander Wang from sky high to the bottom of my sexy wooden clogs. Too bad. As nice as he was, I was entirely bored with his Parsons drop out story and rapid success as a designer. The crowd was tired and so was I. So sorry Alexander Wang.