Photos c/o Sebastian from his travels in Milan, London, Nigeria, New York, Tokyo, many of them exclusive and unpublished.

What’s it like being an English man in America?
Awesome. It certainly helps that I am American too. I just lived in England for 15 years.

What is the best part of being a model?
Awesome free food at shoots and shows. Also meeting the world.

What is the worst?
Planes and lines.

What do you wish you could dispel in the industry…something people think that is actually untrue?
The average model earns below minimum wage.

Do you ever think to be something else?
A better model. Kidding. Of course I do, many more things. I’m not nearly done yet…

Why did you start taking pictures?
So I could remember where I’ve been.

What was your favorite magazine shoot?
Men’s Health Germany.

What is beauty?
A shorter version of beautiful. And also whatever you want it to be.

Something people don’t know about you is….
I’m actually a witch in disguise named Deloris. (He also doesn’t pluck his eyebrows).

What does a male model eat?
I can’t answer for them but I eat absolutely everything I can as often as I can especially if it’s free food. I can out-eat most. My favorite is a everything-in-the-fridge-wich.

What do you do for fun?
Eat, sleep, watch, play, dance, meet, explore, rage, etc.

What is important advice for someone interested in modeling?
Don’t be interested in modeling; all the best ones aren’t. What I mean is don’t try too hard or you’ll ruin it for yourself.

Has modeling always been a dream of yours?
Nope. Marketing has.

Is life easier if your face is symmetrical?
Have you seen my face?! It’s the opposite of symmetrical, no?

Who have you shot for/with?
My mom, and then some (Google will answer this better).

What do you think about…

Street style?
Yay!

Fashion Week?
Hard.

Cathy Horyn?
Who?

Anna Wintour?
Power.

Sponge Bob Square Pants?
Sponge Seb square face.

Mitt Romney?
Again, who?

Obama?
Almost.

New York City?
Fuck yeah!

Why do you think it’s important to share your life?
Marketing myself, my image, getting myself known and learning about others. Where to be, how to dress, who’s cool, what’s not, etc. It’s critical in my position: professional bull-shitting!

Reluctant to speak to us at first, Al invites us to sit and smoke j’s for almost three hours as he goes on to tell the story; the story of his brand, his beginnings, his friendships, how he came from DJ-ing in San Fran, to working and living in NYC, building a fashion house. But I will not bore you with useless facts. You can Wikipedia that. I want to tell you the story about a guy who’s young enough to wear his own shit and look decent, yet old enough to look at youth like me and shake his head at our impatience.

It’s always nice to have an interesting subject to write about. Usually with fashion stories like this, I can edit out all the boring nonsense where do you find inspiration? and whip up something short, sweet and to the point, with a link on where to buy shit. This time was different. I haven’t sat on a story for this long since I don’t know when. Why you ask? What’s so special about some dude designer in NYC? Sure it’s easy to generalize Al and Black Scale as just another guy, just another brand. This time was different and I’m not sure exactly why. Maybe I felt Black Scale isn’t like any other brand. Or maybe Al is just really good at what he does in making me believe Black Scale is special. What is undeniable about Al is that he’s such a fucking great story teller; it would never be possible to capture his essence, to capture that mood in that room that uninhibited bro-on-bro hommie-talk honesty. It got to a point where I didn’t want to write this at all. Not because I wanted it to be some great fucking literary masterpiece; it is after all, one story, about one brand, going on the Internet to float around into non-existence and be archived by Google. But that feeling of not being able to make shit happen instantly, as I have so conditioned myself to expect is just my point. I wanted this story done, and I wanted it done now. And when I was about to give up, I remembered something Al said;

“All we’ve been doing since the beginning is trying.”

He speaks from experience in relation to realizing the brand that Black Scale started as, and what it has become. I feel as though this whole trying and being patient and aware of your surroundings and timing is somewhat of an old-school mentality. I am going to generalize here, and call out ‘my generation’. You know who you are. That aspect of trying and failing and trying and failing and trying until you can’t try anymore is something that’s kind of foreign to us. Its all about finding the shortcut, isn’t it? For someone like Al, who has tried and failed and tried and failed, and has come to the point when you think you’ve hit your limit, when you cross the threshold and create a new limit. The right timing, those people and conversations and ideas that lead you to, for lack of a better term, an ‘a-ha’ moment. I let this idea brew in my head until nothing made sense at all. I re-wrote this story six different times, and I could have just sent it to the man to publish, but then I felt it would not do justice to someone like Al who has always been on the pursuit of persistence. I didn’t know where this story would take me, but I guess it brought me here. I started to reevaluate my story telling techniques. I let myself go with the flow of what I was seeing in the people around me, how we live, how we speak. So fast, so instant, bordering on carelessness. Did I really imagine Al could talk about his brand for three hours? Could anyones attention span last this long? I like to think that I have a knack for listening and editing what people say at the same time. But Al had one up on me. I had no ammo, no past stories to look back on. I had lost everything. I had to turn my losses into lessons.

Al too has had his share of losses and lessons. Sometimes we don’t know what we want, and then sometimes we do. A pang in the stomach, an all consuming idea you see it floating around in your bowl of Ramen noodles. Al and his co-founder but more importantly, friend like a brother Mega, lost comfortable jobs at HUF, Al doing graphic design (which he still helms now at Black Scale) and Mega managing the business side of things. A retired DJ and a defunct retail manager had two options: sink or swim. They chose to float. It was recession time, and so, logically, the worst time to start any new venture, especially one in fashion. But it wasn’t just about the fashion. On the surface, sure, Al is a graphics nerd, a self-professed shy guy (though I question this as he revealed himself a not-so-shy guy in several instances during our conversation) and Mega, the boisterous loud-mouth fashion kid (who we didn’t get a chance to meet). It wasn’t an idea to just start a line. If they didn’t have the losses, the lives they lead before meeting each other, Black Scale may have never left the drawing board. It was all about timing. Nothing pursued. Going with the flow.

Being at the right place and the right time is just as important as being in the right place at the wrong time, or the wrong place at the wrong time. Al’s ability to recognize all of theses states allowed him to take a big risk — open a fashion store in one of the biggest, cut throat cities in the world, during a historically terrible economic recession — and do it balls to the wall.

It’s a fault of ours, and by ours I mean, my generation, to have expectations of results before we’ve even started to do anything.  Unrealistic expectations of this so called overnight success we are so accustomed to. Just because we think someone or something is a new this or a new that doesn’t mean they are new at all. Doesn’t mean there isn’t years of work and failing and efforts. We have become so used to people and places coming and going in and out of our lives and consciousness, that when someone like me meets someone like Al, you feel time stop a bit – or at least slow down.  You’re in the presence of someone who’s more than just his brand or his style can express. This dude’s wise.

All too often, I feel people my age, we are crippled by a made up fear, a fear of failure, a fear of the unknown. Someone like Al doesn’t have all the answers, but he’s seen a few things and has learned a few things along the way, enough to get over his fear of starting something fresh on seemingly shaky grounds. To be confidently crazy but to also know just how much work is necessary to realize a brand and a store like the one we are sitting in.  Could Al have known one trip to NYC that was meant as a vacation would be the crucial moment for brand expansion? He couldn’t have known, but he had the experience in San Fran already, where Black Scale was founded, that would give him a filtering set of eyes, taking in the New York sights. Black Scale was in the mix of preppy West Coast kit, (labels). “When I got to New York and saw what people were wearing – black uniforms – I thought to myself, man, we GOT TO be here.” Black Scale was well-received in San Fran already, and with plans set to be finalized for L.A. expansion, Al turned things upside down and knew he had to be in NYC, even before L.A. Al may not have come to NYC knowing everything that would happen, but he definitely didn’t come here to fail. Al and his Black Scale is that mysterious silhouette in the darkest corner of the bar, the only light coming in three second intervals from a cigarette cherry.  A brand that sits, observes, feels and listens, waiting for the right time to make a move, and all the time, with a spark in his eye, a slight smile on his face, eyes that see, and a smile that comes when you know something no one else does. That Mona Lisa look.

He could of never of known or realized what he was seeing though, had he not spent time working in a place quite the opposite of the East Coast. A hustler by nature, Al flew back and forth with a small team from San Fran to NYC building his network, and when enough people were ready to listen and had listened and loved the idea of something like Black Scale, Al and Mega were ready to touch down and give New Yorkers a dark and sinister label, so mysterious in its conception, it remained nameless for five full seasons. This wasn’t some elaborate cool-guy marketing scheme, but in the end it ended up being one. “We just didn’t know what to call it” Al admits.

For every positive, there is a negative. Black is the absence of light, because it absorbs all light. Black is the potential and possibility of something so certain as black; the absence of something, but also the complete absorption of something.  Black is black but black is white too.  Black conceals, white reveals, but you can’t have black without white. It is a perfect balance. It is the Black Scale theory; the unpredictability of time, being as elusive as the concept of black, and finally seeing the light.  The essence of nothingness, of starting something from nothing, using your head in stripping the layers and meaning from everything, in breaking it down to its purest form, this gives meaning to everything, individually interpreted by those who wear it. In something so big as black, the scale represents regulation and balance, the key to their aesthetic. Without it, their vision is irrelevant.

It’s definitely the Black Scale aesthetic and artwork that sets them apart and keeps them interesting. “The point of the Black Scale brand and the artwork is meant to evoke emotions, to pull questions out of you. That’s what art does right? It makes you feel something. That’s how you know you’re alive.” As alive as Mona Lisa, Da Vinci being Al’s favourite artist. She is the perfect face, and her eyes are always looking at you, no matter where you stand. In their logo, the moon represents the 5% nation of Islam. An upside down American flag looks a bit like they’re defacing it, but it’s actually the Betsy Ross flag, with thirteen stars in a circle (in 1776 America had thirteen colonies); “The flag is upside down, but it is not meant as disrespect. It was actually used by captains on ships, in times of need they would turn their flags upside down, to signal to other ships they needed help. It means come help me, I’m in distress. America is in distress right now.” And on the subject of thirteen, in North American culture, being a taboo number (no 13th floors in San Fran), is actually a righteous number in others, as is the swastika symbol in Buddhism meaning peace, but tilted just slightly, we know, means anarchy.

The art is sometimes uncomfortable. Like Mona Lisa’s eyes on a Black Scale tank that are still staring at me. Their seasons founded on themes like Religion, Government, Identity, Death. Heavy fuckin shit yah? Black Scale stems from great artists like Da Vinci, the idea of perfection. It stems from religion, conspiracy theorists, books and high-end fashion brands, with of course, their ability to put a super steezey twist on everything.  I mean come on guys, you collaborated with A$AP Rocky. FUCK SWAG jumps off a Black Scale tee from the same rack. And yet they keep a conscious distance and work to make it known they are not a street wear label or a hip hop brand. In terms of fashion references, Black Scale continuously looks back on the greats, they learn from history and take in others mistakes. “We study the high fashion labels; Gucci, Prada, Hermès, Louis Vuitton. We cite books on Japanese denim because they do the craziest shit over there. Conspiracy books like “Beware A Pale Horse” by William Cooper stirred my curiosities and got me questioning.” Because in thinking we know everything, much like my generation does, it’s guys like Al who sit there and school you, and have been through that all-knowing stage, only to realize the more they learn, the more they see, the less and less they know. Then again, to know you know nothing is truly knowing right?

The fact remains, we are in one store, among the countless others that call New York home. How should a newbie brand compete and have longevity? Sorry to bust your bubble guys, but cool factors always wear off. “We don’t pay attention to people who are like us” says Al. Not to say they aren’t fully aware of their competitors, but in that, they continue to always do their own thing, as they have always done. “We don’t want to attain to that, and we don’t want to be influenced by that. We are definitely in the traffic. If you’re not in the traffic, people will forget about you, but were not looking at other brands in our lane. It’s important we keep ourselves in a bubble.” We hope that shit don’t pop.

Al taught me a few things, and I’ll share them with you now. Sometimes you have to really say ‘fuck it’ and jump into something, even if you don’t know everything right away. But you can’t be stupid or you’ll be snatched up like a just-hatched baby turtle. You got to poke your head out and see what’s going on, then go back and be alone with that. Like being alone with this story about this brand and this super cool dude who poured out his life story and shared his weed and ideas and outlook on life. You have to sit in solitude and know when the right time is to share. Also, don’t find jobs, find people. If you are so set in your ways and way of living, if you never let things happen to you then nothing may ever happen for you. If you’re already at the end goal, you can’t expect to have any kind of journey. And the journey is long and the journey takes time and it may be years before anything happens. When you reap a reward greater than your efforts, its probably too good to be true. And maybe nothing will happen for you. But at least you tried. Time spent trying is never wasted, because hopefully you learned something. And above all, if I haven’t made it clear by now, I hope you can at least take away this: Black Scale is cool as hell. Respect your elders and buy something. Shit. You got to tell these youngin’s everything…

Photos by Naphtali McKenly

“I really learned the basics of discipline, of focusing, of really being able to give my all to the craft, because it really was no joke with him,” he recalls. “It’s not just the quality of the work that you have to pay attention to. You gotta make sure, you know the very basics of like learning how to always clean up after yourself right? Taking out the trash, like making sure the floor is clean so you can eat sushi off of it.”

Like a low-level intern handling calls and delivering coffee, tattoo apprentices have to undergo a necessary hardship to pay their dues. Horiyoshi III’s early days apprenticing for Horiyoshi II was spent on chores that included making sumi (ink), sharpening needles and a whole lot of floor cleaning before he really dove into the practice itself. It’s a real test of character, work ethic and ultimately, it determines if someone is truly passionate about tattooing or if they’re looking to cash in on the industry’s newfound celebrity. Jun understood the importance of these fundamentals well. In time, he dissected the craft and developed what he described as a spiritual outlook where what he was doing transformed from hobby to passion.

“In the beginning it really wasn’t even about tattooing, it was really about changing my whole thought process and view on what tattooing really is.”

Under the tutelage of Baby Ray and eventually Jose Lopez of L.A.’s famed Lowrider Tattoo Studios (where he still is when he’s not in his private space Arudima Studio), he honed his skills experimenting with several styles ranging from color to traditional Japanese. Soon, he made his transition towards the west coast fine line black and gray work he has become reputable for. Growing up around the L.A. street tattoo scene and having his mentors were an influence in his artistic direction, but Jun did take a personal liking to the style.

“It just has a really nice way of aging, really nice way of settling on the skin. A very neutral way of depicting images,” he says. “The harmony is almost already there because you have a single medium that you’re using to create these images. It’s almost like if you compare it to a black and white photograph versus something like a full color, Internet photograph.”

In short, he’s referring to its timeless quality. Thomas Hooper made a similar comment when describing black colored tattoos similar to that of a photograph album in an antique store in an interview with Marcus Kuhn. It’s a fairly literal interpretation that reflects the idea of nostalgia, but for Jun, the idea of ‘timeless’ goes a little deeper.

“When I was speaking about a timeless quality, I’m referring to a lot of the historic references that I use for the work that I do as a tattoo artist. There’s a lot of connection to the classical periods of art, the Renaissance and I guess that’s where really….I guess the ‘timeless’ word comes from,” he says. “The timeless quality is when you’re making that connection to something that is truly timeless.”

It makes a lot of sense hearing this considering how his personal interest and education in the fine arts transitioned into his professional life. Jun’s tattoo portfolio is filled with sleeves and back pieces adorned in classical/historical figures such as Julius Caesar, Lorenzo de’ Medici and 16th-century Korean Admiral, Yi Sun-Shin. The imagery is common in his work and it’s what clients flock to him for. But being good at what he does is in no way a sign that Jun has settled as an artist nestled in a state of comfort. Comfort, he explains, is a nightmare and it’s a feeling that can be dangerous in several situations. As much recognition and acclaim Jun receives for his work, I’ve learned that he’s never satisfied. You know how people say you never stop learning in life? Jun really takes that ideology to heart. Seven years into his career and he still feels like a student of the trade who hasn’t figured it out. But here’s the thing, that’s OK.

“It’s not even about finding yourself. Again, it’s about creating yourself. For me that’s what is the most fulfilling. I like not knowing how it’s all going to turn out. I don’t want to know. I want to find it out and I want to grow and continue to grow. If I figure it out and have it all mapped out….you’ve already kind of capped a limit to yourself.”

Growth is a large part of Jun’s philosophy. He’s a long way from being the 16-year-old running door-to-door around L.A. tattooing just because he wanted “to do some cool shit” as he puts it. Nowadays, Jun finds that his “work has become the closest thing to a spiritual practice.” Finding meaning in a piece is one way of looking at it, so here’s the question: is it OK to get inked just because it looks cool as opposed to doing so out of sentiment? Well, for him it’s about balance.

“Obviously at the end of the day, the tattoo has to look good. But for us, for a person to commit his/her whole body, with this amount of time and this amount of work, I find that it’s a lot more meaningful and powerful if the work we’re doing has a direct connection to that person and beyond that really…if it’s about his/her culture, or his/her beliefs, or whatever it may be. The work is balanced in the sense that it has both that meaning that goes beyond what we’re doing and that it’s still a visually strong piece of art.”

Part of growing for Jun is exploring other creative fields. Streetwear is the most notable one because it’s partly responsible for his escalated exposure to a world outside his industry. He didn’t do it for a quick buck either. Understanding the the creative progression, the inner workings of the industry is what drove his interest and it’s this sort of curiosity mentality that’s the basis for why he tries anything new. Jun’s definitely not the first tattoo artist to branch out (think Scott Campbell for Marc Jacobs, Mister Cartoon for Vans and of course, Ed Hardy), but it’s interesting to listen to him explain why.

“Once you’re exposed to just how much, how endless the possibilities can be with a life involved in the creative field—that doesn’t necessarily just mean visual arts, it can be whatever. Once you are really exposed to that endless cycle of what you’ve done, how much amazing things can be done because of it, it’s like you’re just going to want to keep going. You wake up and go to bed thinking about this stuff and it’s an amazing feeling for me.”

Exploring various mediums is a challenge. Not necessarily because of the need to acquire new technical knowledge, but rather, the approach, the way of thinking is challenged. Some of Jun’s paintings for example, examine subjects such as human struggle and human connection, which in itself brings a whole other level of difficulty. More is required out of him to communicate the visual narrative and it provokes a type of critical thinking he explains as being “outside the initial reaction state we tend to get into.” But that difficulty is welcomed because not only does he grow as an artist, he grows as a person as well. At the end of the day, exploration and experimentation is all part of a larger vision Jun mentioned in a past interview where he talked about attempting to express his work through different fields by bridging them together and having it all communicate one perspective. I asked him to elaborate and he tells me that by “one perspective,” he’s referring to how you can translate your view on the world and your work through various mediums (Tim Burton is the example he gives me of an individual who has done just that). It’s ambitious, but Jun’s realistic. Nothing comes easy and he’s aware that there’s a long road ahead. At this stage, progression is far more important than reaching for an end that may not even exist in the first place.

“The idea of perfection is always going to be an illusion and standards are always changing. So when you’re going through that journey, that end goal then, really is irrelevant – it’s the process itself that determines how full my experience is going to be.”

Process, is a fascination of his. Read the section dedicated to it on his website and you’ll see what I mean. It’s not always about getting to the end or even the end itself. The lead-up and the evolution after is where the reward is. Watching the conception of a tattoo come together with a client–especially when someone willingly puts their body through hours of pain–is always more rewarding. To Jun, things come in cycles. It’s why he doesn’t dwell on past work and it’s why he doesn’t react to the current mainstream status of tattooing with the sense of dread that others have.

“I don’t see it as a terrible destructive force as other artists see it as. That’s just a stage right now. It’s going to pass,” he says. “Instead of just reacting to that cycle, what if you approached it in a different way? What if you engage in that cycle? What if you’re able to shape it? What if you’re able to direct it instead of just following along with what happens? What if we can really use our brains and place it in a way where it’s definitive?”

He makes a good argument. Every action has a reaction. The slew of drama-filled reality shows may have left a sour taste to some in the industry, but in that process, a few web series online with a more honest, in-depth approach surfaced. Look at what VICE did with their Tattoo Age series. Last Sparrow Tattoo’s Scott Sylvia conducts great personal one-on-one interviews with several well known artists. Marcus Kuhn’s The Gypsy Gentleman is an excellent series that examines the history and the relationship between tattoos and the city he visits.

The point Jun’s making is this: nothing is absolute. Ask him where he thinks he’ll be in five years and I can promise you that you won’t get an answer. His artistic identity, how he thinks, approaches and communicates his work is going to change and he knows it.

“That’s the process. You can’t try to control it, you can’t try to like….you’re not going to figure it out tomorrow or five years from now.”

It’s a journey and part of going along the ride is being able to move on with no baggage. Letting go is a challenge, but Jun says that it’s crucial in his work and his life because it’s like he says, “When I’m detached, I’m aware and conscious.” If things don’t work out?

“Failure is an absolute necessity. Failure is success. You can’t be afraid to make mistakes because you’ll never be in the position to really understand your true potential as a person. The drive to succeed starts with when you intimately know how that lowest bottom pit feels.”

Bruce Lee once explained the concept of Tai Chi as this: “Running water never grows stale, so you just got to keep on flowing.” Perhaps this best describes who and what Jun Cha is all about.

Photos by Arnelle Lozada

“The first ever major press I got was from Eye Weekly, and they called me a seat stealer!” Jay Strut says. “People say I feel entitled to be in the front row and do you know what? I do. Here (Toronto) at least. ‘Cause I work really hard for my network, and no one else has the network that I do, or the reach..” Whether he stole the seat or not, I commend him. How the hell else are you supposed to get noticed? Fashion loves a badass.

First name J, last name, he won’t tell me. “I didn’t even tell Toronto Life” (so?). “I’ll tell you later!” (he doesn’t). I bet he’s glad he didn’t give it to TL. “I’ll never forget that interview. The way they pitched the questions to me were really positive. When it came out, it was like a blogger vs. designer showdown , and everyone else’s was really on point and kind of informative. Mine was just like a shit show, about how I’m a young fashion hipster that can’t do anything… fame hungry they called me! and I’m like, ‘I’m not fame hungry!‘ ” He’s not in fact from what I can tell. This morning he’s hungry for something chocolate. He barely touches his Nutella croissant (how else to keep one’s legs looking so lean?) as he gabs away, talking as though he is divulging big secrets; his head lowers, brows raise, eyes light up, his smile curves as if to say ‘this is so scandalous’! To say the least, I’m pleasantly surprised that Jay is not what he seems, or at least, not what I thought he would be like. He actually calls me out on it too, but tells me not to worry. “I get that all the time…that I’m a materialistic fashion boy.” I mean, it’s kind of hard to think otherwise. Before I met Jay Strut, I had seen him a few times at shows and events, often in black, sometimes sporting a monkey-fur jacket, and never without those thick-framed vintage Gianfranco Ferre sunglasses. A quick troll on his blog gave me a better idea; Cartier, Invite-Only, Balmain, RAWR! These were some words I remembered. A search of @jaystrut exposed a whopping 30,000 (and counting) Twitter followers. What is the deal?

In short, Jay Strut is well, a nerd. OK I mean this in the nicest way. Nerds have substance. Jay Strut has substance. It just sounds a lot better to hear him go on about electronics, the cyber-world, HTML, social media, and anything on the Internet that helps people connect, as the reason for ‘naturally’ evolving to his current online presence. Nothing fame-hungry about that. Just a genuine curiosity, that began from a young age. Jay began curating his life story online; whether on Friendster, MySpace, Asian Avenue, Black Planet; if it was fun, he was on it, fascinated by the inner workings, “all those things” he explains, “that we can see but we can’t touch. Those things we can only manipulate with our minds and our keyboards.” The thrill of other users reactions to his posts kept Jay hooked. Not for the attention, he says, “but I found it amazing that people I didn’t even know were commenting and reacting to my story.” On discovering YouTube, “I would literally stand in front of the computer and scream! Or make like random noises, just be really obnoxious,” to building up cred with self-produced tunes on GarageBand, would help build the base of what Jay Strut is today; a blog, a brand, a business, all of which are, in progress.

Jay Strut’s eponymous blog www.jaystrut.com has enough grammatical errors and made-up words that would send a copy editor reeling. If you can get past this, Jay’s writing makes for an entertaining and Twitter link-worthy treat. Whether done intentionally or not, he artfully captures the excitement of a new designer collection, and his genuine love for the craft…”Can I just start off by saying..THAT LEATHER JACKET needs to be a part of the greater good as in part of my wardrobe!…” There is a Jay Strut voice, and isn’t that the point of fashion writing anyway?

In a world where knowing how to sell yourself is a means of survival, Jay Strut is a pretty good example for all you aspiring fashion bloggers/whatevers out there. His name lends itself to a real-person profile on Facebook, but also a company based out of New York, which happens to be his favourite fashion city. “I don’t live there, but whenever my friends ask, I always say it’s just my body that’s here. My heart and soul are always in New York. I’ve never been more taken care of than when I am there. The first time I went to NYFW on my own, at the Marc Jacobs show, the Communication Director called me over to their office. We had an amazing talk about some feature stuff, and they gave me a tour of the friggin’ building! I got to see the manufacturing, the seamstresses..never once has a company been that gracious. And at the Michael Kors show, the Canadian PR lady was like “you’re good? are you okay?” just checking up on me. It’s such a different vibe there. You think the place you’re from would be nicer to you. But I guess not.”

He’s referring to home – Toronto – which sometimes doesn’t feel like home at all. Aside from the Toronto Life and Eye Weekly slander – which could have potentially been disastrous for the fragile life of a fashion blogger – Jay Strut has experienced on more than one occasion, the cold shoulder of Toronto’s fashion clique. Even his beloved INTERMIX snubbed him. “I really like their product. I like their look and their business plan….whatever they have going on is amazing! But I’ll never forget this. I was planning to attend the INTERMIX launch party in the Distillery District. They did a pre-outfit blog post and tweeted me saying ‘Can’t wait to see what you’re wearing!’ and I’m like ‘OMG, love you guys!’ We were going back and forth all day leading up. There was a Canadian PR liaison for them, and I got the invitation to the event, and I RSVPd and everything. Well when I got there, they told me ‘you’re not on the list’ – (I can hear a tear choke in Jay’s voice. To put in perspective, being told ‘you’re not on the list’ is akin to the feeling of an aspiring lawyer being told he’s failed the LSAT’s). “And I’m like okay that’s not cool, because I can show you they were just saying ‘where are you?’ and stuff. They finally let me in, and I’m walking through and the head person comes up to me, in front of everybody, and I swear if it was anyone else she probably would have pulled them to the side and said ‘sorry we can’t let you into this party or you’re going to have to wait a little bit longer’. But no. In front of everybody she says ‘You’re not on the list! You can’t be at this party!’ and it’s not like I look like a retard, I’m wearing H&M for Versace head to toe, I have my camera with me, I’m taking pictures. I’ve never been more humiliated or embarrassed in my whole life.” We talk about the Diva syndrome that fashion can quickly turn regular, good human beings into full on claws-out bitches. “I notice that a lot here in Toronto. I’ve never felt more attacked then when I’m here. And it’s like, I do whatever I can to promote the Toronto fashion scene. I covered Toronto Fashion Week on StyleCaster, a huge NYC based fashion destination….There are some people here that appreciate what I do, and understand it…like Lisa Tant, I always have an amazing chat with her whenever I see her…The Fashion Collective, Line Knitwear, Amanda Lew Kee,…aside from them, it’s like, everyone else is out to kill me.”

Was I missing something? Maybe I’m the sucker who should, in her right mind, be more annoyed with Jay Strut than I currently am. But I can’t bring myself to spit on what might actually be one of the most interesting characters the Toronto fashion scene has to offer. I will say though, that one Jay Strut is plenty.

I mean, it’s unfortunate to be hated by some people, but I don’t exactly pity Jay Strut. I think he’s stronger than he lets on. And being a fashion blogger doesn’t sound all that bad. Backstage access, fashion weeks, parties with Lindsay Lohan and Dakota Fanning.  “I met Bryanboy once and he was like ‘Oh, Jay Strut! It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve watched you blow up online.‘ “That was really cool”. And though he’s met her stylist, Nicola Formichetti, Jay confesses, “If I ever met Gaga, I would probably just die. She is so amazing. Her talent, her message. Everything!”

It makes sense. Aside from his designer mom who taught Jay a true appreciation for fashion, Gaga is the one person who helped push Jay into fashion full time. “Her song Just Dance was just so motivating for me. It was so freeing. Her message to be who you are… it came about at that point when I was in high school, getting to find out who I was…I learned it was important to one hundred percent authentic. She helped me decide OK I’m just going to continue, I’m going go heavy with this…through fashion is how I knew I could express myself…”

Unlike his idol though, he doesn’t have a name -yet – for his 30,000 twitter followers. His reasoning, “I feel like everyone’s so different and I would never classify people. I know (Gaga’s) thing is that like they are her loyal monsters, but I never really thought about that. My Twitter followers are really… they’re just people who have the same interests as me, not per say, in me because I’m not like an icon or anything you know what I mean?” But for our intents and purposes, we could say that he is at least, an icon in the blogosphere. He reflects on this for a moment. “I have really amazing readers. I had this one experience at Forever XXI in New York..literally i walked in and i got swarmed by readers it was so crazy, even the staff and they were like OMG Jay Strut I love your blog! And then a few weeks after when I was at fashion week, I’ll never forget this really cool asian guy, he’s like your Jay Strut right? And I’m like, ‘uh…yeah?’ and I saw emotion in his face, and he was like ‘can I help you OMG please!’ He was so sweet and I love that. I mean I don’t love it for the attention, I just love that I’m connecting with people and they enjoy what I am doing…”

Authenticity and expression, are part of his advice for newbie bloggers, along with staying in school (only if it’s something you really like), and giving your self three year plans. “I always hear other bloggers saying ‘do your own thing, be your own person, and don’t keep up with the Joneses’ and stuff, but ultimately blogging is being up to date and keeping up with the Joneses. It’s important to have everything from a unique perspective. No body wants to see the same stuff over and over again. Keep your finger on the pulse, because that’s the best way to be relevant. I’ve learned the best investment I can make as a fashion destination and as a fashion blogger, as an online persona and someone who is giving content to people is traveling. Nothing will ever compare to the content I can get then when I travel. And don’t feel like you ever have to be too cool. And DON’T obsess over other peoples’ stuff because it can get ridiculous. I used to obsess over other people and their stardom and that’s when I noticed I was starting to go down the drain. People have gotten to where they are because of what they have done for themselves. Eventually, they found their own freedom. Don’t hope, Just wait. You know? Just let it happen. I think everything happens for a reason, and if it’s not meant to be then it’s not meant to be. Give it a three year plan. That’s what I did. I said if something doesn’t happen in the next year or so, I fuckin’ quit, But I’ve been working at it and it’s been slowly growing, so ..Once I stopped obsessing, I just got back into my own mode and I started performing at my best. Once you stop obsessing you become free and your able to do what you want to do at your best.”

Which is?

“Being myself, proud and happy, and not letting haters get to me. I’m strutting my stuff no matter what!”

Photos by: Katie Sadie

Honest Ed’s founder Ed Mirvish never said he’d save you time, but he did promise to save you money. Perhaps no one knows this better than the man upstairs, above the pharmacy section in the West Building. His name is Douglas Kerr, and since the 1970s, he’s been hand painting that famous in-store signage, boasting catchy tag lines and ninety-nine cent deals.

We arrange to take Dougie’s photos. He leads us to a dimly lit alcove, up a stairway to what feels like a secret hideout.  With a small window overlooking the floor below, the neatly-cluttered narrow office holds paints and pictures and poster paper, books and pens and scissors, and from 9 am – 5 pm Monday through Friday, it holds our subject, Dougie Kerr, aka Mr. Dougie.

Sometimes the room holds his co-worker too, but, rather thankfully, he’s not in today. Quarters are close and camera angles are tight. Contrarily, the atmosphere is comfortable. As we invade his privacy, Dougie mentions how in all his years of painting, it appears that a good number of people, especially young people, are now reverting back to hand-painted signs, or are at least showing an interest. He’s been approached and asked to teach how to do the hand-lettering. Though he hasn’t entertained the idea to actually set up shop, he does admit “I’m hoping that the hand-lettering tradition and craft can be carried on.” Perhaps, something to consider..

He shows us around, well, really side to side, pointing out photos of celebs, and friends, and of Ed Mirvish himself, of whom he knew personally. “His wife used to come in the store, eh” he tells us, “but not anymore.” The now deceased Ed Mirvish [1914 - 2007] aka Honest Ed, left behind a Toronto legacy, one that started with a $212 life insurance policy, propelled by a never before seen publicity stunt. In 1948, the entrepreneurial couple had an idea to open a bargain basement, even then called “Honest Ed’s”. It was stocked with all kinds of odd merchandise, snapped up at bankruptcy and fire sales, and displayed on orange crates. Nothing fancy. With the Great Depression and two World Wars coming to pass, the unique no-credit, no-service, no-frills business model was an immediate success. Mirvish claimed to have invented the “loss-leader”, below-cost discounts on selected items designed to lure buyers into the store.  And boy, did it work.

Billed as the world’s biggest discount department store, Honest Ed’s was bringing in million dollar revenues annually. Expansion of the store and of the neighbourhood were natural causality. In the 1950s, Mirvish started buying up houses on Markham Street running south from Bloor, and in a failed an attempt to build a parking lot, Ed decided to turn the in-the-way Victorian houses into affordable rental spaces for local artists. A community was born. Studios, galleries, boutiques and niche shops form what is known today as Mirvish Village. His reach into the arts was extensive, with the Mirvish family purchasing and even building theatres (The Pantages, The Ed Mirvish Theatre, formerly The Canon Theatre, Royal Alexandra Theatre, Princess of Wales Theatre ). Mirvish was an opportunistic business man and publicity stuns were his calling card. From riding elephants and hiring protesters to picket his own restaurant over its dress code. Above all, Ed was a philanthropist, a true peoples person. Take for instance that every Christmas, Mirvish gave away ten thousand pounds of free turkeys in his store, to shoppers who stood in line for hours. His birthday is known in the city as “Ed Mirvish Day”, and upon turning 92, a lavish bash for close family and friends was matched for the public; many items in the store were on sale for 92 cents.

Of all these, the one bit of Ed that seems most endearing, is the Anne and Ed Mirvish Parkette, steps away from Honest Ed’s many entrances. Nothing fancy, just a tiny patch of grass, with a bench to sit on and ponder big dreams.

But now that Ed is gone, Mr. Dougie becomes the new icon of Honest Ed’s, if only because we can see and talk to him. Blissfully unaware to a point of dumbfoundedness, Dougie is a Toronto legend, and a well kept secret. On both our accounts,  we “hope all this dribble gives you an insight into the life of a dinosaur”.

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Of course, we would never disrespectfully refer to someone as ‘a dinosaur’, Dougie labels himself as such, but he’s not as old, or at least, doesn’t appear to be as old as that might suggest. It could be his love of cycling, which has given way to a fit physique, or maybe it’s that Scottish wit that keeps a youth about his face. Or maybe it’s because, Dougie has done what he’s wanted to do from the get-go, leading him to a trophy 45 years in an oft-referred ‘odd job’. We don’t know how much he makes. For one we don’t ask, and two we don’t care.  A few night courses at the Glasgow Art School, which “didn’t help a whole lot”, and an apprenticeship in the ad industry would kick start the joint.

“Back in the early 60s, a lot of advertising was done by hand on posters; cinemas, billboards, things like that. My first job painting signs was in a display company, but they also had a sign department and that’s when I was first introduced to hand-lettered in-store signage.”

In very industrialized Glasgow, Dougie was busy learning his trade and perfecting his style, but he always found time for friends and pints of Guiness. Moving to Toronto in the 1970′s, a place he describes as “clean compared to an old Victorian city like Glasgow”, Dougie found himself in the sign painting trade once again. “I worked at a variety of sign shops, doing billboards, windows, displays, trucks, gold-leaf lettering, banners, things like that.” He even made friends and enjoyed pints a couple nights a week after work, experienced Canadian summers at the cottage, and those one-of-a-kind Canadian winters. He became a regular Toronto Maple Leafs Fan who, like most are “still waiting for that cup”.

Painting gigs were coming in steady. But then slowly and altogether, they weren’t. The industry began to change, computer graphics and design moved in on the frontier. “It became much more difficult to find work as a sign painter” he says. But as fate or luck or good timing would have it, Honest Ed’s was looking for someone at their sign shop. Needless to say, Dougie got the job.

But just what is the job as a sign painter for Honest Eds? Dougie explains it matter-of-fact. “Working at Honest Eds, I do a variety of in-store signage, sometimes producing 40-50 signs a day.  I also paint Honest Ed’s quirky captions on the walls that you see throughout the store.” You know the ones – “Honest Eds – The Greatest Show on Earth!” and “There’s No Place Like This Any Place” and “Fashion Skirts $1.99″, all in that undeniable lettering, that has since become a trademark.  “The font style is a casual style, that some people would call ‘slash’. It’s particular to the individual, but there is a basic design to it that makes it recognizable as the casual style.” Dougie was taught the slash style back in Scotland, and in Toronto, there were adaptations of it. Dougie adapted his own.

Curious to see what this looks like in person, we ask Dougie to paint something, so we can get an “action shot”. You can just tell he’s been doing this forever. Without a hum or ha, he sits with his sciatica-bothered leg on a simple wooden stool, slightly hunching over the drafting table. He puts his left arm underneath his free right hand to keep it steady, and begins to paint. It’s almost unbelievable. I look to his hand, then to the signs below in the store. It’s true I think, every sign in Honest Ed’s really is hand painted, hand painted by Mr. Dougie. But how to keep them looking so…consistent? “After many years of hand-lettering, it becomes second-nature. Also, the layout is very important in producing signs. You learn to create good layouts that are consistent all the time.” Almost as consistent as a computer. “Digitally you have the same fonts, and they’re just as good, if not better. But, they’re computer generated, so you lose some of the characteristics. In some cases, the spacing in computerized fonts is a bit off” which, if you’ve got the skill, is something you can control in hand rendered lettering.  Though he uses it often, ‘slash’ isn’t his favourite font type. He prefers a nice elegant Serif letter. “With the Serif you can elongate it and make it more individual and give a theme to the message.
I wonder if there is something behind the font choice of the signs at Honest Ed’s, some kind of theme. Indeed, there is something very nostalgic-looking about the ‘slash’ font. Does is encourage a flow of endorphins? Does it make us more readily reach for our wallets? Dougie dispels this notion. “You’re making things up. For me, I don’t see the font or the signage in that way.  I use the slash font because it’s the quickest and easiest to paint.  There are two types of slash – italic and upright.  When I do the upright style, I like to add bounce to the sign by staggering the letters a bit which I would like to think adds more fun to the signage.  I think people associate the font with Honest Ed’s only because it’s the only font on all of the showcards, but it’s not a conscious effort on my part or on the part of Honest Ed’s – I’m just trying to make as many signs as possible.”

Then I’ve made it up about the colours too. “No reason behind that either, except for that, in the 60s, they used to use all different colour schemes but it was only in the late 60s they changed to the white card with blue, red, and yellow colour scheme to make it more cost efficient and branded.”

 So what’s cheaper is faster is what’s going to work. But still. There’s something so special about these signs. And maybe I am making it up. But still, there’s something. It could have something to do with those young kids who are interested in sign painting. It could be that everybody knows Honest Ed’s. The history, the name, the deals…

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Dougie proposes another stance for our photo. This time he’s standing, cutting a large piece of gleaming white poster paper. He cuts one piece down the middle and stores the halves away. My eyes follow to a pile of unused and non-useable signs. I want to ask so badly for  one. I’m not quite sure how it happened, but it did.  He looked around, and pulled signs that could no longer be used. “I could of whited-out the mistake and painted over top of that,” he says as he hands them to me “but it wouldn’t be clean.” I couldn’t really explain it, maybe I’m a closet hoarder or a sucker for history, but I was ecstatic to have left with not one, but three posters, really a nice vignette, carefully paper-clipped with the lettered side inwards, so as to avoid any damage. But I’ll do better than that. I’ll find sturdy frames and hang them somewhere nice.  Hopefully after reading this, Mr. Dougie doesn’t think I’m a creep. He’s just a really cool dude, a relic in that he has seen and experienced the many changes in the sign painting industry, yet remains almost frozen in time, still using this perfected technique, a true art. Hopefully it can be passed on, and remembered, not left to become something or someone that time forgot.

Photos by Katie Sadie

The Aussie photog (who studied photography at UWS in Sydney) has been shooting since the early 90s, but walked away for a few years to concentrate on graphic design and creative direction. About six years ago he decided to get back into the game full time, and, while his graphic/creative work is probably stellar, we can all be thankful that he decided to get back behind the lens.

Why does he shoot?

I love the mixture of the technical aspects of photography and the creative aspects, he says. I love toys and gadgets and making beautiful images with them.

Photography is ever changing and there’s a lot of great stuff out there, so I just do what I do for now and move on to something else next. You can’t be too precious about it. You’re basically a gun for hire most of the time, as Helmut Newton once said.

Equipment?

Mostly Canon kit, but I love shooting on different Polaroid cameras that I have collected, Hasselblad gear and I am LOVING my new Fuji X100 right now.

Favourite thing to shoot?

Beautiful girls in beautiful locations…

How do you prepare for a shoot?

I guess I just flick thru books and magazines, trawl the internet and get inspiration. I guess it really depends on the job.

What are you listening to on set?

Ha.. I try not to put my iPod on shuffle on a shoot, that’s for sure. I think it would scare everyone. It depends on the shoot and the people, but mostly I put on upbeat, fairly inoffensive tunes that that everyone likes to listen too.. I’m not a music snob.

When you’re not behind the lens, what are you getting into?

I pretty much spend my time surfing. Checking the surf, playing with and trying knew boards, hunting for surf. Travelling up and down the east coast of Australia looking for waves. I live in Sydney’s northern beaches and it gets pretty crowded. It does my head in sometimes, so I need to travel out of Sydney for a bit of sanity.

Worst shoot experience?

Usually its dealing with the weather, but I guess my worst experience was shooting a bunch of celebrities for a magazine, and my laptop died. Luckily it was only the display so managed to salvage everything and get a new laptop by the end of lunchtime, so we continued… a little nerve racking tho.

Favourite shoot experience?

When you get a great model in a great location and everything goes smoothly and you get some great pics. I shot this girl down the south coast of Australia. It was for Quiksilver and they only really needed 1 shot. We shot for a few hours, the light was great, the beach was amazing and the model was insane… so perfect.

Who inspires you?

I’m really inspired by many people. There are so many great photographers around at the moment and it’s my peers that really push me. I’m really inspired personally by a lot of stuff that came out of the 60′s and 70′s.. I would have loved to be at my peak in those times. I like the simplicity and elegance of everything back then.

People like Sam Haskins really inspire me as it was the ’60s and ’70s when he really made a name for himself. I had the pleasure of assisting him a few years back .. quite a few times… he was amazing. Shooting fashion for Harpers Bazaar at 80 years old. A legend in my eyes. It was sad to hear of his passing not so long ago.

What makes a perfect picture?

There are so many things, but a perfect picture to me is something that when you look at it, it creates an emotion or creates a story from that one image.

If you could shoot anyone/thing, what would it be?

There are sooo many people I would love to shoot, from celebrities to some of the super models from the ’80s . My list is extensive, I cant just name one…

What projects are you working on right now?

I have lots of little things going on now… but I’m still just playing, experimenting and having some fun with it all.. after all, you cant take this industry and yourself too seriously… look what we do for a living.. its pretty fun.

If your images could talk they’d say…

Wow that was fun making this shot, lets do it again. ha.

In five years I’ll be…

5 years older and 5 years wiser…. I feel like I’m still learning every day …