Best Form Fitter
"I never imagined I would be doing this," says Seyta Selter, the self-described "Founding Duchess of Form." After all, designing tailored menswear is a far cry from hooking up lonely hearts. Among other former odd jobs, Selter is a former member of Team Willamette Week (she used to sell personals ads here). But in the past four years, the Seattle transplant has studied fashion design at the Art Institute of Portland, opened and closed a men's and women's clothing boutique on Mississippi Avenue and started her own bespoke menswear studio (duchessclothier.com), spotlighting turn-of-the century English suits. Selter consults with clients to develop personalized patterns and construction, and choose from various vintage fabric swatches. The orders are outsourced to a firm in Bangkok, composed of three generations of tailors who specialize in English tailoring and are known for their safe and green labor practices. (Take note: Orders take anywhere from eight to 10 weeks to complete.) So far, the career change has been pretty lucrative. With more than 200 suits under her belt, the savvy Selter has outfitted a broad range of dapper Portlanders looking to spruce up their wardrobes with a classic, affordable suit. Her clients have also included folks in government and the entertainment industry (including, of all people, Crispin Glover). A two-piecer will run you an average of $400. If you're a chap who takes to the finer details (silk lining, hand-stitched lapels, monograms, matching pocket squares, etc.) the price can ascend to $700. By comparison, take a quick look at the price tag of a ready-to-wear ensemble from Nordy's (upward of $600) and you just may follow Selter's suit.
Best Mad Hatter
Alicia Carr's (tatteredgossamer.com) top-hat creations can best be described as brazen, wearable pieces of art. The local milliner shies away from the traditional materials and techniques typically used in classic forms of the venerable craft. "It's an organic process of playing with the materials for me," Carr explains. "It is much more akin to sculpting." Carr began by designing commission-based, one-of-a kind theatrical clothing and worked at the nonprofit PDX Fashion Incubator. Now, she does private commissions for her hats out of her studio in the Pearl District. The high-pointed headdresses, cloches, church hats and otherworldly chapeaux shine in electric hues (spirals of royal sapphire, saffron and scarlet) and are handmade from felt, buckram or sinamay, then garnished with vintage lace and feathers. Although they aren't yet sold in any local shops, they will be available in two Manhattan boutiques come August. Starting at $200 a pop, one would think these pricey crowns have no place in P-town. But Carr, often a walking advertisement for her work, has had no trouble filling orders. "The majority of my [future] customers stop me on the street and ask where my hat came from."
Best Place to Be Sew Cool
From macaroni and rhinestone seeds, Portland crafting has sprouted into a Fimo-clay tree bearing handmade fruit. Portland's booming DIY subculture goes public at Crafty Wonderland (craftywonderland.com). On the second Sunday of every month, from 11 am to 4 pm, the basement of the Doug Fir (830 E Burnside St., 231-9663) hosts this hip fair, which showcases what P-town is pasting, sewing, beading and printing. Peruse the booths of dozens of rotating merchants, like creepy doll specialists Payne Creations, paper purveyors Robot Candy and sexy jewelers Kinky Dinks. You can find crocheted vagina iPod cozies (they hold iPods and look like vaginas, not the other way around). Torie Nguyen and Cathy Pitters—half of the local craft collective PDX Super Crafty—started the fair in April 2006, to let city artisans meet the pubic and each other. "We like introducing things we like to the public," says Nguyen, who sells her handmade purses under the name Totinette. "And we play matchmaker when we're setting up booth spaces. Like, 'I bet this person would like this person.'" Creativity breeds creativity, the logic goes, so while they're selling their latest wares, crafters can also get ideas for next month's Crafty Wonderland from neighboring booths. And amateurs can get how-to help at the DIY table, which walks participants through a new craft project at each fair. Word is, button making is on the horizon.
Best Reason Never TO Get a Real Job
Designer Jen Neitzel started the DIY Lounge (1639 NE Alberta St., 804-2526, diylounge.com) two years ago as a forum to teach new skills for deconstructing one craft and fashioning another—a core component of what she believes to be part of the "Portland mentality." The Lounge offers workshops in everything from encaustic painting to monotype printmaking. "But I think the most consistently popular class is probably Torie's small biz series," Neitzel concedes. Yeah, you read that right. You can learn how to start your own business (advice in marketing, PR, creating an identity, business cards, packaging and selling to stores included). Most classes at the DIY Lounge range from free to $80 for a few hours, including supplies. No doubt the response has been smashing. "When I originally started DIY, I went to many of the local artists I knew and asked if they wanted to teach classes," Neitzel explains. "Now, I rarely recruit. People come to me and say, 'I want to teach this.'"
Best Cobbler For Local Cinderellas
Donovan Skirvin, the 33-year-old founder and designer of Ese Carnal, which he runs with wife Laura Jensen, could be a spokesman for how to successfully conduct a humane, green business. His handcrafted shoes are exquisitely designed and made from reusable scratch out of his Northeast Portland abode. "I make rounds on Craigslist, upholstery shops and local shoe-repair sources looking for usable upholstery leather, old leather jackets and used flooring, which I turn into heels," Skirvin explains. "And I inspect any new leather I purchase [at Old Town's Oregon Leather] for these little scars that free-range cattle end up with due to being in contact with the elements." The end result is a distinct, solid aesthetic reminiscent of the intentional artistry of early 20th century, working-class garments (think military-esque Oxfords). "I draw inspiration from a particular series of photographs of Bauhaus textile artists I found in a library book a few years back," Skirvin sums up. His work is showcased at Local 35 (3556 SE Hawthorne Blvd., 963-8200) and esecarnal.com. "In the end I meld a little bit of the process with a little bit of what I see in my head." And while these babies aren't exactly available at throw-back prices (the leather shoes start at a cool $350), Skirvin and Jensen are willing to barter.
Best Way to Look Good Without Screwing Over Mom
Portland just might own the next decade. With a reputation for being a leader in the green revolution—with more LEED buildings and hybrid cars per capita than any other city in the U.S.—Portland adds yet another dimension of green-inspired commerce with Greenloop (thegreenloop.com), an online store that sells sustainable clothing for men and women that will turn heads without screwing Mother (Earth). The 3-year-old company has a storefront (8005 SE 13th Ave. 236-3999), which founder and former environmental lawyer Aysia Wright moved from West Linn to Sellwood in June. Technophobes can browse clothing and accessories made from cotton, bamboo, recycled billboards and even used cell-phone casings in person. "We offer sustainability without sacrificing style," says Wright. What's more, Greenloop's offerings won't fleece your wallet any more than other designer clothiers. Graphic tees start around $30 and the store's most expensive items, like jackets and dresses, top out around $300. That's a small price to pay to save your mother.
Best Place to Outfit a Biker Mama
Love to straddle a scooter, but don't have a thing to wear? Need to head to Sturges, but don't have the right gear for the grueling ride ahead? Well, biker babes, have no fear, you're shop has just rolled into the inner-industrial eastside. S Curve (1028 SE Water Ave., Suite 140, 517-2007, scurve.net), according to owner Tamara Holden, is the Northwest's only boutique dedicated to women who ride. Here, you'll find everything from beautiful red-leather Italian riding jackets to baby bibs that say "V is for Vespa." Specializing in safe and stylish scooter and motorcycle riding gear and apparel for hot mamas who are ready to roll, this vroomin' room has everything you need to take a ride on the wild side—well except the ride itself. But with these clothes, who cares?
Best Way To Unload Crap From Your Kid's Closet
Have you ever walked into your kid's school, seen the overflowing "Lost and Found" box, and wondered where all that stuff ends up? Schools in Beaverton ship all the unclaimed coats, boots and other clothing items off to the Clothes Closet (16550 SW Merlo Road, Beaverton). This clearinghouse of kids' clothes, both new and used, is operated by a small army of volunteers who also distribute clothes twice a year to needy families in the Beaverton School District. If you're interested in volunteering or donating, please contact Beaverton School District Volunteer Services (591-4443) for further information. The PTA Clothing Center (1301 SE Morrison St.) does something similar for 2,000 public-school kids in the Portland Public School District.
Best Artsy Fartsy Bric-a-brac Peddlers
Like a sparkling little gem of non-yuppified retail, Tender Loving Empire (1720 NW Lovejoy St., #109, 243-5859) shines a helluva lot brighter than the Pottery Barn-ish pit-stops that make up most of the Northwest 'hood. Perhaps that's because TLE serves up culture, sweet culture. From handmade jewelry to small-press lit, clothing and custom artwork, this is stuff-you-don't-need for the thinking man. The vision of art appreciator Brianne Mees and her folk-singin' hubby, Jared, TLE even carries and releases music and offers custom screen-printing. As if that weren't enough, the tiny, colorful shop—located on the trolley line in one of the boomin' ActivSpace buildings—hosts monthly gallery showings and occasional live music to boot. They'll even think about selling your shitty-ass words, tunes or drawrin's on consignment. Tender and loving, indeed.
WWeek 2015