Behind the lens at Toronto Fashion Week

Fashion Week is fittings, then more fittings, then thirty seconds of runway, then doing it all again four hours later.

This year I walked for House of Ciel and Sid Neigum — two very different rooms. Ciel was tailoring, calm music, candlelight. Neigum was sharper: sculpted shoulders, fast cues, a backstage soundtrack you could feel through the floor.

What I love about runway is the absence of choice. Once you step out, the pose is the walk. There's no second take. You either land it or you carry it like you meant it.

Backstage there's a particular kind of quiet between models — half pre-show focus, half deep tiredness. We share lip balm. Someone's playing music. A dresser is sewing a hem on you while you're already standing in line.

By the end of the week, you stop being a person with opinions about clothes. You're just an instrument the designer is tuning. And honestly? It's a relief.