Another day, another press clipping: exactly a week ago, the entire Worn staff (editrixes, wornettes, the lone husband and cats) met up at the ‘office’ (which you now know is really a “third-floor flat in the outer reaches of Parkdale”) for their 15 minutes with the Toronto Star.
Photographer Lucas Oleniuk dropped by first, and I’m sure that a bunch of well-dressed ladies was a bit different from his usual oeuvre (he does war, disasters and Olympics). But he was incredibly gracious, and gave us helpful portrait tips for future reference (best one: to get that flattering soft focus Barbara Walters lighting on our faces, we were told to look up to the ceiling at a light fixture).
Everyone pulled out their best dress, thus proving the axiom that atypical style rags keep company with atypical stylish folk. Laura Wornette (we prefer that than ‘intern’) had these brilliant mustard yellow tights on that compare to other yellow tights we were aware of, does not make your legs look jaundiced. Sarah, our assistant editor, brought out a 1950s vision that belonged to her grandmother. And I myself made a detour to Rozaneh (all my fine things were in dry-cleaning), borrowing (but subsequently purchasing) the 1960s shift I’m wearing (spot the curly hair girl with glasses).
Journalist Tabassum Siddiqui does a bang-up job describing Worn, not to mention giving an actual portrayal of the blood, sweat and tears that goes into each issue (note: the volunteer staff, the $5000 budget/issue, and once again, the “third-floor flat”). She also offers a great sum-up of what we do:
Part zine, part academic journal, part style book, Worn manages to combine a vintage sensibility with modern design, largely eschewing advertising in favour of striking artwork and photography, and quirky articles (past stories have focused on everything from the environmental impact of dry cleaning to the history of mannequins).
Thanks, Toronto Star! Oh, and before I forget — Tabassum and Lucas? That little party we’re having: two open slots have been penciled in with your names (don’t forget to wear the red!).