This morning in The Toronto Star, I read the Fashion Design Council of Canada’s reaction to the emergence of “Anonymous”. The petition reached its intended audience and all has been reported, so now I am under no obligation to identify “Anonymous”.

The sophisticated behaviour is now to wait and see what will happen at the FDCC and return to why we are really at L’Oréal Fashion Week: the clothes.

Vancouverite Melinda-Mae Harlington showed her sophomore Fashion Week collection to mixed reviews. Some itendified her 1970’s bohemian flapper collection as “mall clothes”. I, on the other hand, appreciated the relaxed elegance of the muted colours, subtle metallics, and breezy ruffles as a touchstone for all twentysomething girls to follow as an ideal working wardrobe. These pieces should be seen in every Canadian casual office. Jeans are entirely inappropriate, unsophisticated, and young women should dress with more taste. Ms. Harlingten’s Spring collection would be an excellent example for any girl entering the workforce.

Lucian Matis is a gentleman who shares my appreciation for Old Hollywood Glamour. I do believe Mr. Matis and I should share gimlets one evening while I lounge in his high-waisted slacks and billowy blouses, topped with a turban like a subdued Carmen Miranda. A girl could get away with murder in his devastatingly-fitted jackets, deathly-slit skirts, and killer kick-pleats. Though I do adore Lucian, I did spy some construction issues on the runway, which I hope will be rectified when I make my appointment to purchase his Spring designs.

On exiting the runway room, I stopped fellow Project Runway Canada competitor Evan Biddell for his reaction on Lucian’s latest and he exclaimed, “I had to clutch my pearls!”

Afshin Feiz is an international jet-setter like myself, so I was looking forward to a sophisticated collection, especially when his press kit stated, “His aesthetic adheres to the idea of women that like to be beautiful and feminine, sexy yet not vulgar.” Yet with unfortunately placed chains and ruffles that enhanced busts, crotches, and derrières in severely unflattering manners, his collection was indeed vulgar. While I did enjoy his cupcake-icing pallette with accompanying mini-ruffles, too many of these ruffles turned potentially flirty creations into confections too frilly to wear. With mentors such as Galliano, Lacroix, and Ricci, I expected a better understanding of the female form and I hope to see refinement in Feiz’s future.

The last show of the evening brought my week’s highlight. I have been waiting for Denis Gagnon’s collection with the highest of expectations since his last brilliant show, so I chose today’s ensemble from that collection. I am wearing a comfortable - yet fashionable – black sweater and leggings, punched up with this season’s purple David Dixon boots and satchel from Town Shoes.

Denis did not disappoint. Though I appreciate his sombre pallette and severe designs, this season brought punches of red and fuchsia that knocked out the crowd. His usual mastery of black and white leather was evident, of course, but it was the colour and the sophisticated Disco Dolly designs that were the talk of the tent. The collection may have been bright, but it was not light, and I cannot wait for spring to arrive so I can show off my latest Denis Gagnon dresses.

At the end of the evening, I had the pleasure of sharing company with my dear friend Nathalie Atkinson, who works almost as hard as I do during Fashion Week. We compared personal highlights from the week.

We agreed on favourites: Denis, Lucian, and Joeffer. She also adored Carlie and Eugenia. And we were both astounded by – as Nathalie put it -  “Really achingly beautiful dresses” from Morales. Nathalie also enjoyed the shows in the studio, whereas I preferred the traditional runway showings. She plans to add a Janet Hill dress to her Spring wardrobe as well as Joeffer’s blacked cropped rice paddy pants. I know I will fill my wardrobe with Denis, Joeffer, Andy, and Carlie. We parted ways and I began planning my Spring wardrobe.

My head was filled with today’s inspiring shows when I returned home, so I forgot about a possible admirer gift until the Concierge handed me a large box. Inside: a rabbit-fur maxi coat. Lady Miss Angora and I didn’t know whether to be appalled or to bask in the luxuriousness, until we actually felt it. We basked.

Then we found the note. “Join us.”