location:3678 St.Denis
phone number:
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directions: Just south of Pine

Memento is an oversized version of my grandmother’s closet. Rarities from every era swing from rows of hangers, each piece lovingly preserved and in immaculate condition. Everything is always in its place. This upscale vintage depot houses the widest collection of scrupulously selected classics in Montreal by a long shot. It can come off as a bit pretentious, but it has every right to brag. As a seasoned second-hand shopper, I’ve grown accustomed to inconspicuous stains, unobtrusive tears, and “belted” dresses missing belts. This shop is a complete stranger to such quirks.

Divided into men’s and women’s sections, you’ll find row upon tidy row of high waisted skirts, ruffled blouses, tweed blazers, party dresses, patterned sweater vests, and the most extraordinary coats. Accessories on tap are equally inspiring. Assorted hats and gloves dangle from the ceiling, multi-coloured ties bedeck one wall, and a few shoe racks loaded with delicious footwear stand in the middle of the floor.

Most of these treats do not come cheap. A darling floral dress will range from $70 to $100, while exceptionally modish jackets often tickle the $200 mark. Shoes and long, ornate skirts typically stop at $50, pants at $70, and frilly tops at $30. Memento’s secret? Its garments hail from a Montreal costume warehouse that mostly sells its stock to buyers from the film and television industries (sadly, no access to the public). While things like 18th century frocks go to production companies, Memento picks up the more everyday high-end clothing. It receives a new bundle almost every week, and its stockpile never goes on sale.

One word of warning: Memento is no vintage playground. Its owner is rigid, rather bitter, and very touchy when it comes to his priceless stash. It may be tempting to grab a few items off their hangers and run with them to a mirror for a rowdy round of dress up, but you are sure to invoke his wrath. A friend of mine was booted out of the store after trying on a sweater without asking first. It is true—Memento is as self-important as the Parisian labels that adorn most of its goods. But if a little politesse is all it takes to leave this store looking like I just walked out of Vogue, count me in. A year later, and I still get stopped in the street almost every time I wear my Memento coat, a giant-sleeved number that is identical to the one Balenciaga sells for nearly ten times the price.
profile by Hillary Brenhouse
photography by Heather Utah