Creating my brand
 |
| Sandy Shaw |
Peggy Morrison had taught me that the music should suit the venue and the fashions. At nightclub shows, for example, the music had to be more upbeat – and that’s what suited The Leather Ranch and West Coast Woman. An older audience say over 50 would not want loud rock music. And I figured out that this rule for customers also applied to venues where they’d be the audience. At the Bayshore Hotel, the music needed to be more subtle than at nightclubs like Club Soda or Richard’s on Richards. For swimwear, though, I would use The Beachboys, or ask the DJ at Richards for beach-type music.
For my show at the Planetarium, I had sent out press releases. The big papers seemed to approve, but then suddenly everything changed. Their fashion reporters didn’t think I could do it, especially on my own. I noticed that the fashion editors at both The Sun and The Province were negative from the start, when they realized I was using an exotic dancer (Penny) and they thought that was wrong for the fashion industry. By contrast, the journalists at the Georgia Straight and the Courier were quite interested. Virginia Leeming, fashion editor at the Vancouver Sun, said I was demeaning the whole fashion industry by using dancers in fashion shows. She was an experienced journalist who had connections, and so other editors and journalists agreed with her.
They didn’t understand my point of view. I had employed Penny because I was in a tight spot and needed a model—any model. But as time went by, I could not see a problem with using exotic dancers. I liked to give people a chance to show what they could do, just like I’d had a chance at Eric Hamber. That’s why I believed in this principle. That’s why I employed girls that no agency would touch. Not because they were good, or established, or classic models, but because I wanted to give them a chance to show what they could do.
This part of my identity, using exotic dancers in shows, became another part of my business identity. Nobody else did it. And it looked like another part would be producing shows that seemed impossible. In my first show, I had dealt with very few models, a postponement, and a change of venue.
 |
| Denise Peat |
After spending my 26th birthday with Susan, I set out making a name for the media to know: Victor Dino & Associates, an agency that could produce any kind of fashion show. I began adding to the team, signing models Valerie Rogerson, Lenore Ellis, Joan Dahl, and Judy Senick, along with exotic dancers Anne Gordon, Darla Fox, Candy Bee, and Janet Cervi. I would be the only agent that dared combine models and dancers in fashion shows.
With Patti Ribbins to record music onto tape cassettes from vinyl records, I began setting up a fashion show for September 15th, 1983, to promote Fred Asher’s Menswear in the ballroom of the Palisades Hotel. With a bigger budget than before, I requested a cash bar. I invited guests like actress Gillian Barber and a Vancouver Sun reporter. I got six male models from Blanche MacDonald Institute to feature Asher fashions. I choreographed a routine: Fran, Denise, and Penny wore designer dresses, and walked arm in arm with the men between the tables. My client Lorne Reiding did the commentary. We rehearsed for two weeks, but Virginia Leeming considered it only average and “not worth my time.” She also upset me by saying I wouldn’t last in the business.
Taking advice from Mark Huber to make shows faster, I forged ahead, teaming again with the Leather Ranch and West Coast Woman for a ramp show that revealed their fall designs on November 26th, 1983 in the Plaza 500 Hotel ballroom. As would become my habit, I invited some local celebrity guests: media personality Michelle Gibson, former model Sheryl Dawson, and singer Jane Mortifee, whom I had met with Susan at the Arts Club Theatre where she was portraying Patsy Cline.
Tickets were sold and I took 10%. The new additions to my team, like Valerie Rogerson and exotic dancer Darla Fox, joined Fran, Denise, and Penny on stage. This pre-Christmas fashion show was a smash, so I set up more shows for the New Year. I did ballroom shows if the client had money to rent the ballroom (in most hotels it would cost them about $3000-$4000), or in other venues according to budget.
Producing a typical show
The Vancouver fashion industry was very traditional when I started my business in 1983. The general belief was that a proper fashion show was like those seen in New York or Los Angeles. In other words, a typical hotel ballroom show. The fashion writers from the big papers, the Vancouver Sun and The Province, would only review those types of show. In a hotel ballroom you would have a big 30-foot long or 40-foot long stage with a least a dozen models, moving up and down the ramp (or runway), doing a 90-second routine. You would have the audience surrounding the stage. Those papers might advertise that I was having a show , but would not send a reporter to review them. They felt that any other types of fashion show were not worth their time covering, because they thought any other kind was inferior. But local newspapers including the Courier and Georgia Straight would review my shows.But there were also tearoom or restaurant shows. The difference between a ramp show and a tearoom or restaurant show is that a tearoom show allows the models to be up close and personal with the audience. The model can actually stop and talk personally to the audience, to explain what she was wearing, describe the fabric, who designed it, where the dress can be bought, what sizes are available, and so on. Whereas if she was walking on the stage, a catwalk, you couldn’t really talk to the model.
My first failed show
In March of 1984, I had my first failed show at the Ramada Renaissance Hotel’s ballroom, caused by a sound system break down in the middle of a sit-down dinner. I could do nothing but just let Denise and the others model with no sound. It was like watching a silent movie. The manager made lame excuses afterwards that they had already checked the mic and sound system. I never did a show at that hotel again.The client didn’t get any sales and said it was a waste of their money. The only consolation was that I did get paid, but they were not happy! And although I offered another show, they never worked with me again. I pitched them but they turned me down. This was the first time I was turned down for a 2nd show. It would be an omen or lesson, that if a show failed I should not expect the client to work with me again. And if they did, were likely to pay me less.
*******************
The standard routine for producing a restaurant show is obvious in a show I did at Brock House, a restaurant at Jericho Beach, Vancouver. I worked with the designer stores Delino Boutique and Tenth and Proper. I had approached Brock House and asked about events scheduled in the area in the near future. Retailers are not willing to put up money unless there's a target audience at the event.
Delino Boutique carried a line for women over the age of 40 (as does Tenth & Proper): prêt-à-porter or ready to wear fashions from the States and from Canada but with a focus on the future: they were made with natural fibers. Brock House is known as a facility that serves lunch for the older generation. It’s next door to the Vancouver Tennis Club. Knowing about this tennis tournament, I simply took advantage of the situation.
The key to being a good agent is being able to convince the retailers to put up money to reach their target audience, in this case people who might have lunch at Brock House, and might watch the tennis tournament next door. I don't normally mention the price, but when I set up a show I usually charge a minimum of $1000 per client, so in this case obviously I said to the boutique, “If you want me to produce this show, it will cost you $1000, and 10 percent down.”
So the venue has already been arranged. Brock House is willing to promote the show and even sell tickets, and I’d take 10% of the ticket sales. The deal, the difficult thing to negotiate, was to see if the desired clients, Delino Boutique, plus Tenth and Proper Boutique, would each put up $1000. Nowadays the difficult thing for retailers is to put up the money when we can’t guarantee sales. But they both agreed to put up money knowing that the tennis tournament was happening next door, knowing that a lot of people would be interested in seeing the fashions.
Before I do anything else in planning a show, I always ask for 10% down, and that’s used to print posters, which are then released to the media: I would always contact the press. In general, advertising the event was shared between the venue manager and myself, but we shared it differently depending on the location.
If it was in a ballroom, like the Bayshore Hotel, the hotel put up posters. The rest was my responsibility. In a gym or sports club, for example, the Brentwood Racquet Club that had members, the venue might do the local advertising. The smaller the show, more responsibility I took. If the show was open to the general public, then it was my responsibility. And it was usually my job to select models that were appropriate for the kind of fashion show. If clients carried fashions for women over the age of 40, the show requires models who are least 40 years or older. Women that the audience could relate to: if I sent in a model that looked like Raquel Welch, it wouldn't work. Retailers will continue to put up money for events if they see they’ll get their money back.
After getting the posters up, I go to Brock House, look at the floor plan, and find where the girls will be changing. When I looked at the dressing room, I realized it was going to be difficult because it is on the second floor. The girls were going to have to go upstairs, just jump into the change room, then go back down the stairs and onto the floor where the show is running. They’d have basically only two minutes to change. We were going with five models. I instructed the girls that I wanted a 90-second routine on the floor from each of them.
This gave them time to change. When we begin the show, everybody is supposed to be in their first outfits. First girl comes out, does a 90 second routine. Now obviously, after the first girl does her routine she runs back upstairs, and then has no more than two minutes to change. The other four models (each doing 90 second routines) are on for a total of 6 minutes. It will be difficult. But anybody who’s seen my shows knows that I tend to put my own models in difficult situations. That’s my reputation. I tend to do the shows that no one else can do. But this was a more typical show.
What made this Brock House show possible was the strategy to help my clients get sales. When the designers and retailers say, we only want to do fashion shows if we get sales, the ordinary producers—my competitors—would say, “I only want to do shows in hotels.”
I saw that my job was to promote my clients. If my client catered for fashions for the gay community, I’d do it in a gay bar. If my client caters for scuba divers, I’d look for a yacht club. My job is to find venues where the clients could reach their target customers.
The Brock House show rated probably 8 out of 10, a good show on a really good stage, a good show in terms of the audience reaction to the models wearing their fashions. For a tearoom show like at Brock House allows audiences to speak to the model, compared to when a model walks the catwalk. The audience can’t talk to a model if she’s on the catwalk. The audience for the Brock House show liked it for that reason.
In ramp or catwalk shows, timing is more critical than for restaurant shows. I do catwalk shows only occasionally, because timing is the key. If the models are told they only have 30 seconds to change into several distinct costumes, and one of them goes more than that, it affects the rhythm of the show. To compensate, I wound up having to ad lib the commentary until the next girl came out.
Heather Tait was my choreographer from 1988. Up until then, I did the timing. When Heather took on that task, she released me to do other things. But my best shows were before 1988, e.g. at Systems Cabaret. For ramp shows in hotel ballrooms, it was mandatory to do rehearsals, to get the timing right.
In restaurant shows the girls would walk around between tables and it was impossible to do this to exact timing. The girls would just take a look around and improvise their moves with a 1–minute guideline. This meant I always had to be ready to ad lib the commentary. If client wanted commentary that is. It was the client’s responsibility to give me notes for the commentary, on the fabric, sizes, and colours, and the model’s names. (I always used only first names). If the client’s notes were slim or absent, I had to ad lb on what I was seeing, and find ways to make it interesting.
For restaurant shows I would occasionally go to the fittings at the client’s store (usually a week before the show) to see what they were wearing. So I saw models undressed often (one of the dancers who was close to me always flaunted her body, but it never worried me).
I do not know what sales the clients achieved for that show. We did give door prizes, I would say 5 to 6. This was not a usual practice—we did it only if the client wanted it. Some gave gift certificates as door prizes, based on ticket number. My team captain would stick her hand in a bucket, draw a ticket, and hand it to me to announce. Then she would hand over the prize. Clients usually offered about 20% off if the audience wanted to buy any outfit including accessories after the show, and a 20% discount effective until the end of the month.
Another of my better shows was my first with Antonio Boutique. It was at Richard’s on Richards nightclub in November 1984, shortly after Antonio Boutique had signed a contract with designer Lea Chu. One reason for the success was that I did everything, like arranging rehearsals at one or two o'clock that afternoon, and walking through the paces with the models. At that time, my team captain was Denise Peat. And I worked carefully with Denise, on what I wanted from her: lead the models in a one-minute routine on the 30-foot stage, where to go on that stage, and how many seconds she should pause. I went through this for an hour in the afternoon, and did it again the evening of the show. Then I did the commentary myself.
************
After I got my license I decided to join the Western Canadian Fashion Designers Association, in 1984. It was a very important year for me. The WCFDA was for the entire fashion industry in Vancouver, and included agents, designers of everything from jewelry to shoes. It was also a networking organization and I met a number of my clients there. Bev Boys, the Olympic diver, ran a swimwear company, Bev Boys Sports, that became a good client. Other local designers were Leah Chu, Zonda Nellis, and Trish Northrup. I met all of them at the Association meetings.
Opening an office
In the spring of 1984 I opened my own office on the ninth floor at 470 Granville, the Rogers building. Business continued growing, with new clients like Boris Chinkus, Primavera, and Tahari [sp?] Boutique, all at Oakridge Shopping Centre.That year I made many important contacts at hotels too, like Mark Andrews (Hyatt Regency), Jan Besseling (food and beverage director at the Bayshore), George Walker (Granville Island Hotel), and Eleni Skalbania (The Wedgewood).
It was clear that I was becoming a different kind of agent. Other agents basically treated their models like a stable of horses. I never treated my models like that. My relationship with my models was closer, probably because of my disability but also my ability to communicate. I would often say to them, if you want to talk, shoot. I made them comfortable talking to me. And this differentiated me from other agents. I treated my models like they were my daughters.
I also gave models a chance to show what they could do. Like in January 1984, when I took on a punk rocker by the name of Linda Thulin. I had a meeting with the Leather Ranch, on Granville Street. It was raining and I was wheeling myself over to see The Leather Ranch, and saw this street kid. She had purple hair, weighed about 160 pounds, and had no shoes on. She asked for money. I looked at her and gave her five dollars. She had a face like Audrey Hepburn. So I gave Linda a copy of my first “head sheet” – a poster of my 1983/84 models, showing the girls’ heights, hair colours, dress and shoe sizes), and I said, “Give me a call.” I gave her my number and she called a week later, joining a growing agency lead by Denise Peat . I never told Linda to change her look, or lose weight. When Linda Thulin signed on with me she wanted me to meet her parents. They didn’t knew who I was, so they came by my office. We talked about the strategy of how to use Linda, and whenever she did a show, her parents were there.
