Tonight is the first ever Portland Fashion & Style Awards ceremony, a night meant to celebrate the winners in a series of "best" categories ranging from hair stylists, photographers, designers, models, and boutiques. It's a grand idea in theory if a little overreaching the first time out of the gates (it's at the Schnitz, for crying out loud, with tickets as high as $100—click here to buy some, but be prepared to wait in the queue while everyone gets their The Book of Mormon on), which is pretty steep for a roster of nominees that bears so few recognizable names.
I'll be in attendance (as, ahem, a nominee, I get free entrance), but my reservations about the relevance of this thing are acute (how can you talk about—much less make grand proclamations about—the best in Portland fashion and style without mentioning the forces actually putting it on the map? Pendleton's Portland Collection? Portland Garment Factory? Adam Arnold? Anyone? Hello?). Nonetheless, I shall go and give it what my date for this evening suggested: a fair shake, despite all the many indications that it will be a farce. Meanwhile, you can read more about why I have such a huge stick up my butt about it over here.
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