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Day 9 – Morning after TIFFs

Bay Station has a doppelganger don’t you know? One level below the platform where Yorkville shop boys and girls and armies of dental appointmentees exit their Bloor-Danforth trains is a look-a-like station. It was built ages ago and abandoned in the usual round of TTC cost cutting and now plays movie set for Keanu Reeves (Johnny Mnemonic) and Olson twins (New York Minute) flicks.

Until last night.

Brilliant Toronto publicist Kim Graham convinced city big wigs to open up Lower Bay for FilmItalia’s festival fete. And it was the best bash of the last few weeks.

As the real subway rumbled above, a mix of fashion, design and film types visited train car bars and watched Fellini-esque beauties wander the platform in Boutique Le Trou looks topped with fishbowl headpieces.

Italian film stars (no Sophia Loren so I’m not sure who was who) mingled happily minus a VIP suite and local couture character Sonja Andic arrived with a menagerie of her own costumed compatriots including Christabel in glossy stiletto boots.

And that’s all I wrote.

The credits are ready to roll on another film fest. And the festival itself is just one big movie set after all. There are the stars and us legions of background extras. The lighting is better and another juicy plot twist is always just beyond the next velvet rope.

Truth be told, I’m eagerly anticipating the homecoming to my usual fashion beat. I’d still write about hemlines over hoity-toities and has-beens any day. Real life, its new apartments to outfit, sprained ankles to ice and legal issues to deal with, is waiting.

If you run into me on the street, feel free to tell me your deepest, darkest secret. My lips are sealed. Until next TIFF.

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