Red Room Where the Writers Are

   

FIRST PUBLISHED: The Oregonian, January 27, 2002

It was a dark and stormy and stylish night 

Hundreds of people stood in the rain in a line that snaked around an inner city warehouse district, otherwise deserted on a Sunday night, waiting to get into an 8 p.m. fashion show. Calvin Klein? Ralph Lauren? Michael Kors? No, the crowd gathered to see the original creations of about 20 Oregon designers who sell their clothing at Seaplane.

"The whole thing is very do-it-yourself," said Kathryn Towers, of the show and Seaplane, the small independent shop she runs with partner Holly Stalder in Southeast Portland. She and Stalder held an open call for designers to join them in putting on a show and about half of the approximately 40 designers they carry in their store immediately responded.

That do-it-yourself theme can mean wonderfully creative one-of-a-kind fashions. It can also mean quirky, if slightly disorganized, runway events that leave people high and dry -- or this case, soaking wet -- clutching their prepaid $8 tickets when the B Complex building in inner Southeast Portland hit its maximum capacity of 600. (But in true let's-put-on-a show spirit, most of the 20 designers and models promised to stay and put on a second show at 10:30 p.m., which drew about 100 people.)

The sold-out audience was quite polite once the show got under way. The first model stumbled onto the stage seemingly stunned by the bright lights. Looking frightened, she stumbled backstage again, only to immediately reappear looking composed and ready to take on the world.

That little reality quake opened the Seaplane show and perspectives of fashion continued to shake and rumble throughout the night.

Seaplane owners and designers Stalder and Towers make clothes with a similar feel. The seams are frequently unfinished, stitched on the outside, and intentionally left to unravel. Some of the fabrics appeared to have had previous lives as snack food for moths. Sheer fabrics of different colors are layered and top-stitched, patching small pieces on top of bigger ones. Dangling threads and strings pull and pucker the material off-kilter in intriguing ways.

With floaty fabrics and feminine detailing, both Stalder and Towers seem to be eking out beauty from doom and rubble. Shredded strips of fabric were interlaced in a basket weave effect, creating a beautiful garment out of scraps.

"Very comfortable and modern silhouettes, and floaty," said Towers of her designs.

The Narcissia Dial by Jennifer Foust line was billed as falling "somewhere between European couture and American secondhand."

A simple, short, A-line skirt might have been ordinary but for the fact that it consisted of several print and textured fabrics. The use of material was skillfully controlled so that the result was not a sloppy patchwork skirt but finely tailored and sophisticated. It was a case where the sum of the parts equaled something pretty darn great.

A dress with white lace bodice, tucked and pleated with buttons down the front, attached to a plain skirt, was worth a second look.

A line called Twilight by Isobel Dehn showed waist-cinching, breast-lifting corsets with enormous fluffy skirts of layer upon layer of different colored fabrics, tulle and -- possibly -- Grandma's old tablecloth.

The dresses were princess pretty but maintained an edge. Imagine the little bride statue -- on Mrs. Haversham's crumbling cake.

Jessica Beebe showed a skirt made of orange herringbone with sheer orange organza inserts. The fabrics do not easily mix. But Beebe made it work.

Paper doll-inspired

Donna & Toots by Suzanne Kraft displayed a skillful use of color and tailoring, playing burnt orange silk shantung separates off deep red. A conservative gray flannel skirt sat squarely this side of fabulous with a star burst of orange embroidery and a few random rhinestones.
Other designers showed everything from pop-inspired minidresses to underpants. There were glam rock velvets, skirts with slight bustles and paper doll-inspired dresses.

Jenifer "Kwai Toa" Segraves showed a group of chic and sophisticated gowns.

Segraves used a red perforated fabric "the kind of thing they use to cover car seats" to make elegant form-fitting dresses. Stretchy navy blue Lycra with transparent insets was used to make a gown with princess lines.

"It's taking a little bit of flashy L.A. style and mixing it with down-tempo Portland style," she said of her designs.

"Survivor: Africa" cast member Lindsey Richter modeled one of Segraves' designs.

"I was walking the red carpets (at premieres) and needed a dress," said Richter, still wearing the blue gown from the runway show. When the paparazzi ask Richter who she's wearing, she is happy to shout out the Oregonian's name.

"She is my best rep," said Segraves with a laugh. "She has an amazing body! She makes (my clothes) look amazing."

Worn different ways

Segraves often uses sportswear fabrics to make elegant dresses. Most of the dresses are reversible and many also have removable straps or sleeves so that they can be worn several different ways.

"Jen's stuff is most wearable and could actually be manufactured," said fashion photographer Rafael Astorga who was in the audience that night.

But long live the art pieces.

Jayme Hansen showed a straight jacketlike corset -- and aren't all corsets part straight jacket -- that was beautiful to look at. She also had a whimsical skirt with an applique of a thigh bone right on the model's thigh, as if you were looking through the dress with X-ray glasses. The dress with the stomach and intestines applique was less whimsy and more woozy.

The show ended with three wearable things -- one can't quite call them clothes -- by Devin Harkness. A woman modeled a white draped dress with attached veil, until a man came up behind her and, in a Freudian fashion moment, morphed the thing into a garment for two.

Another modeled a Medusa's worth of snakes. They were part faux fur stole, part hand puppet -- and completely quirky.

Finally, a model sporting a great looking, rugged, utilitarian rain jacket came out carrying small tent poles. He pulled his arms and head into the garment, retreating turtle style. A bit later, a tent rose and he climbed out the opening to cheers.

Is it fashion?

Who cares. It's fun.