Vogue, meet God
What's it take to get Canada's fashionistas to go to church? Red-hot Canadian designer Paul Hardy inspires the fashion faithful
Andrea Mrozek - April 10, 2006
It happened on a warm March evening, steps from the swanky bars and boutiques of Toronto's Yorkville district. There, Vogue met God. The man who brought the two together was Calgary-based fashion designer Paul Hardy, and he did it by inviting the country's fashionistas, media and elite to church. And once in Bloor Street's Church of the Redeemer, Hardy gave them "Grave Deliverance," his fall/winter 2006 collection inspired by, of all things, the fear of death.
"This might be the first time and the last time some of these people will be in church," confides Jeff Town, a former assistant of Hardy's, in town for the show. But for Hardy, the setting isn't intended to be ironic--though the drama of the Gothic-style church is undeniable. The 32-year-old designer believes God is the source of all inspiration, including his haute couture designs. "For the first time, I was able to turn the tables on the fashion media, and bring them into my world and convey to them the fullness of the vision and how I see it," Hardy says.
Playing off the stories of Edgar Allan Poe (who often wrote of the human anxieties around death), Hardy's models strutted funereal colours--grey wools, black designs stencilled onto gold silk organza and brown tweed suits--in front of a fake pine casket. At the pulpit, the up-and-coming Canadian soprano Measha Brueggergosman sang spirituals--"Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," and "Hush, Someone's Calling My Name."
Despite appearances, the show had less to do with the macabre than it did with faith. Flare magazine may have blessed Hardy as one of Canada's top 10 designers, but he's certain his success is a blessing from above. Hardy recalls how he turned to faith when, years ago, he was stuck working in retail and couldn't make a go of his career. "One day, I was sitting on my bed and I said, God, why is this not happening?" Then he felt the answer: "God just said to me, 'Look, when you said that you wanted to do this, it wasn't to be just another designer,' and so I realized I needed to get organized."
For some people, getting organized means tidying up their workspace and buying a day planner. For Hardy, it meant getting his soul in order. He began weekly meetings with the pastor of a local evangelical church. "I started asking myself, is this really about making money or is it about having a voice?"
It certainly wasn't about the money, since even today Hardy says he hasn't made much. To produce his first outfits, he sought out sponsors--patron saints--to cover the costs of one ensemble (in return, Hardy agreed to custom-make another outfit for them). The money he made selling samples from the first collection was enough to get him started with fabric for another. In spring 2003, Hardy managed to sell his entire collection for $20,000. By that fall, he was up to $120,000--and it's been growing ever since. And so has the attention. Spotted in the pews of Hardy's March 10 Toronto show were Galen and Hilary Weston, owners of Canada's Holt Renfrew, and the U.K.'s Selfridges fashion chains, as well as Club Monaco co-founder Joseph Mimran.
For someone whose career--and being--have been given new life, a show staged around a fake funeral may seem a touch odd. But Hardy calls it a metaphor for all the fears we face in life. "Death is an element of something that people are fearful of, but people can be fearful of being alone or being out of work," he says. All of them are fears from which, he says, only God can redeem us.
But anemic, glaring runway models in His house? A fake casket? For a devout Christian, isn't it all rather . . . sacrilegious? Not to Hardy, who sees fashion as a way to tell stories. And since so much of his own fashion story comes from God, Hardy thinks it's only fitting to stage his show in a church. "If you look at Jesus as an example, He was a storyteller," he says. "I'm trying to be a storyteller. I'm not expecting everyone to listen to it. Neither was He." Everyone has critics, he figures. "Jesus wouldn't have been put to death if there weren't." Hardy laughs: "I'm hoping it doesn't go that far for me."
Page 1 of 2