A day with a Fashion Designer

My Chicken pita being prepped

I was invited to spend the day with Andrew and Josie. The fashion designer from the London trip and his girl friend. For those curious as to the life of a fashion designer, here it is. I would like to add that I would not think this is what most fashion designers do on their day off and for the most part this is just Andrew being the unique individual he is.

Our first stop was to get food. Being pressed for time, we had a a lot of ground to cover today, we ended up at a favourite little Turkish place with food wraps and other interesting dishes. I opted for the Chicken pita which turned out to be quite good. Since it was the first time I had been there I took a picture of the place in order to return again sometime in the future.


A La Turque located on church street just north of Wellesley

After our speedy meal we ended up in a place located in Yorkville called Stuff that Works. Something about a "treatment" was all I heard. It was all very mysterious. Upon entering what looked like a health food store mixed with dental office, Erika, the receptionist greeted Josie and kept us in the waiting room while we waited for Andrew to show up. He was parking the car.


Erika sits at her desk in front of her newly color corrected monitor.

While talking to Erika, who was facebooking, I noticed that her monitor was not color corrected. It was very yellow. With nothing better to do I offered to color balance the monitor while we were waiting. A few minutes later Andrew arrived.

We were led into a small back room with a weird contraption that looked like a bunch of cathode ray tubes in a star shaped array. It was the Vibe Machine. It was some kind of new age device whose main purpose was to re-energize your cells kind of like a battery charger and batteries. Just by sitting next to this machine for 4 to 10 minutes a day you would feel more alert and energetic while at the same time the cells now energized are able to deal with toxins better.

It sounded like a lot of hooey to me but I thought I'd try it out anyway and see if I felt better. When thinking about the experience later, I could have exposed myself to gamma radiation for all I know and in a few months could have some super powers or suffer from some horrible defect. What was I doing?

There were four of us sitting in front of the machine. Andrew, Josie, me and some woman who none of us knew but I guess was there because she paid for a session. The vibe machine turned on and off over the course of the 10 minutes. When turning on it crackled like the Jacob's ladder (climbing electrical arc) in those old B-movies. The tubes which work on the same principle as the CRTs in neon signs, and your old TV or monitor screens (pre-LCD) would light up an orangey light.

The unknown woman started leaning closer toward the device. At one point she took off her bra (from under her shirt). Maybe she thought the bra blocks all the good energy. She then started holding her feet up to the thing. A few moments later she put her face closer. It was almost if she were trying to absorb as much energy from the vibe machine as possible.

I found the whole experience rather bizarre. When done and putting back all the metal objects that were on my body (my watch, my belt), I did a quick check. My hair was still flat, I really didn't feel anything different. Were my fingers tingling? I would have to say more testing would be required before I could make a formal conclusion of any kind.


The Vibe Machine lighting up a florescent tube.

Next on our list of stops to make was a place that sold freshly made pies and garden statues. I fell asleep in the backseat of the car so I really don't know where we were. The pie was for a BBQ we were invited to. While Andrew and Josie were pie picking I was outside checking out the statues. I thought my garden gnome could use friends. The statues were all unpainted. They had two gnomes that seemed interesting... until I looked at the price tag. They were about $100 bucks each. Not that I'm against spending money but I'd have to bolt those things into the ground for fear they might be liberated by the GGLF or others.


Gnome one


Gnome two

Our next stop was a skydiving school somewhere near Welland, Ontario. Andrew had designed a couple of skydiver suits and was dropping off the samples to the school for helping finance his entry for the design exchange competition (read here and here). A plane was just taking flight with a bunch of skydivers so we sat around and waited for them to jump out of the plane.


Wind speed around 3 on the Beaufort Scale (8 to 12) miles an hour

The place was a tiny speck in the sky when the skydivers were giving the green light. On top of that the sun was behind them. This made for a lot of squinting, asking where they were, pointing, and trying to find them again through the camera lens. Once clearly visible the rest of the drop seemed to only take a few minutes. The whole group had landed and we were in the car and off the the barbecue.


Coming in for a landing


Touchdown


Beginner skydivers pair up with experienced skydivers

Joe, Andrew's brother was obsessed with showing us his newly planted garden. I could see the family resemblance. The food was good. We had to shovel it down in order to get to the speedway in time for the first race.


The Majtenyi family


The garden

At the racetrack the show organizers showcased a new act involving a police car, the Merrittville Marshal, and a nice car chase for the kiddies. I had forgotten how much dirt and dust gets thrown into the air by the car whizzing by. One guy sitting in the benches had made his own home made visor.


The Merrittville Marshal


Sunset


Stock car races around the track


The stands


A home made visor shields dust and flying dirt


The last race

I arrived back in downtown Toronto around 12:30am. Just in time to see if Darryl wanted to go to Swatow for a late after dinner dinner. At swatow we ended up bumping into Bill who was getting take out (or take away depending on where you're from).


Bill and Darryl at Swatow