This spring, I caved and bought myself a (very expensive) Toronto-made Fortnight bra. It may seem like I’m revealing too much by writing about my underwear; but this bra is magical and I need to tell everyone about it. If I change the underlife of one woman, it’ll be worth the overexposure.
I didn’t want to make this purchase online, so I headed with resolve to Fortnight vendor The Future of Francis Watson in Parkdale (fittingly, the Fortnight studios are also in Parkdale). If you’ve not been to this spot, you’re missing out. The storefront houses many covetables including Toronto’s own Pomp and Ceremony bow ties, Karen Walker sunnies and private label goodies. The bras waited for me in the shop’s back corner, a vision of blue, beige and black silk. I spent half an hour trying on different styles and sizes before settling on an Ophelia, which, coincidentally, would be one of my favourite names if it weren’t for its inevitable and unfortunate shortening to Fifi.
If I may take the liberty to exaggerate slightly, the bra has changed everything. I’ve spent the last decade wearing either ill fitted underwire bras or unsupportive training bras, and I’ll never go back. When I wear my Fortnight bra, I feel like I’m one step closer to being the perfumed, cigarette-smoking, lipstick-and-slip-wearing, bonified woman that I thought only existed in Hollywood classics or Mad Men.
From the sublime to the ridiculous, I found myself soon thereafter at Toronto landmark Honest Ed’s. Low and behold, I stumbled upon a bin of high waisted, yellow lace, boy short underwear for the totally reasonable price of two dollars! That’s right, a toonie. My bargain boy shorts are the perfect partner to my very nearly bespoke bra.