A Peek into l’Atelier de Thien Le
Written January 30, 2010
“Whirrrrr!”
The loud sounds of the rotary cutter does not affect Thien Le’s focus as his eyes examine the black fabrics spread out in front of him on the cutting table. Guided by white chalk markings, Le swiftly cuts along the lines, leaving distinctively shaped pieces of fabric to be used later.
He’s cutting them out for Tomoko Kitai, a long-time designer friend who happens to share his studio with him. Kitai is working further down the cutting table, tracing patterns onto more fabrics to be cut.
“Tomoko’s my big boss,” he says with a hint of a smile.
Kitai stops tracing and looks over at him, surprised. “Since when?”
“Today,” Le responds, “I’m working for you.” He continues cutting.
Kitai speaks louder, over the sounds of the cutter. “Helping me,” she corrects.
“Working for you,” Le repeats.
Kitai’s eyebrows shoot up and she shakes her head vigorously. “No, no! That means I have to pay you.” She returns to her work. “You’re helping me.”
Le and Kitai have known each other since they attended the International Academy of Design and Technology together. “Tomoko was my classmate,” he says, “We weren’t as close before. But now we work together, design together and do everything together as well.”
“Everybody hated my guts (in school),” says Le. “I was the black sheep because I was a straight-shooter and a go-getter.”
He maintained his focus and concentration. Upon graduation in 1998, Le received the award of Best Evening Gown Designer.
A year later, he launched his own label. He and his designs have appeared in FASHION magazine, L’Oreal Fashion Week in Toronto and various other publications and collaborations.
This is not without hard work. Le’s day typically starts at 3 or 4 a.m. He’ll spend a few hours checking his almost-always full email inbox and wait for his staff to trickle in and do his bidding. Craziness usually ensues.
“It’s supposed to be a sweat shop, not a design studio,” he jokes.
Today however, is quiet.
“It’s not exciting; it’s just hard work. Unless you catch me on a good day when I have everyone here. I’d be yelling at them.” Le says. His interns have the day off, his seamstress is on vacation and his other staff is out and about.
Le finishes cutting fabrics for Kitai and leaves the studio to make his way down the nondescript hall towards his showroom, the wood floor creaking beneath his feet.
This is the room where he meets and does fittings for his clients and displays his clothing samples. Wearing a black sweater and dark jeans, Le contrasts with the white room. White walls, white curtains, white MAC desktop, white just-about-everything. A sliver of sunlight finds its way past the translucent fabric curtains, brightening up the area just a bit more.
Le doesn’t notice the subtle change. Flitting around from one clothing rack to another, he is in constant motion. Metal hanger hooks screech against metal bars as he rearranges and organizes his dresses into particular groups–he’s sending a package of clothes to Windsor, Ont.
Le's dress featured in a VietSun magazine fashion spread
He pauses. Stops arranging. And then he runs out of the room, muttering a quick, indiscernible phrase under his breath.
A few moments later, he returns with a camera and starts snapping shots of the clothes hanging on the rack. Le says taking pictures is easier and faster than writing descriptions down.
“Except I don’t know how to use this camera,” he says, looking down at the playback screen with a concentrated focus and clicking different keys.
Le and his family immigrated to Canada when he was 10 or 11 (he’s not sure) and settled in Windsor. In 1996, he moved to Toronto to pursue an interest in design.
“I was just being nosy; curious. Now I’m stuck with it.”
Designing clothing is not the only trade this jack knows. Le is actively involved in many magazines, working behind the scenes as a fashion director.
He walks over to the centre of the showroom towards a red, suede couch. Picking up one of the many magazines scattered on the seats, Le flips through it. It is Viet Sun Magazine, of which he is the fashion editor.
Eventually, he makes his way back over to the studio. His tasks switch among sewing or cutting fabrics, answering the phone that seems to ring every five minutes and checking his email on his desktop in the corner of the room.
His studio is long and narrow. The walls on one side are hidden behind racks of “patterns”, paper cut-outs to trace on fabrics, which cover from the floor to the ceiling. On the other side, there are shelves lined with an eclectic mix of boxes of fabrics, books and food.
There is a large table near the back of the room with six sewing machines propped on it. Only one is use.
A moment later, a tall blonde woman approaches the studio looking for Le. She is Diana, one of his clients. Carrying a THIEN LE garment bag among other bags and items, she needs him to dress her and to ask for his style advice. He takes her over to the showroom, where there is a changing area.
Le takes her garment bag and hangs it up on a hook.
“I didn’t go buy anything; this is stuff that I had already,” says Diana. She pulls out two pairs of shoes and holds them up for Le to see. “So, these or the red ones?”
Kitai enters the showroom and lends her advice as well. She and Le both decide on the other pair–silver shoes.
Another one of Le's many designs
“I also brought two different colours of these as well,” says Diana, pulling something else out of her bag.
“Of pantyhose?” asks Le. She nods. Le bursts out laughing. He chooses the darker shade.
Diana is on her way to a convention, but needed Le’s help to put on her dress–one of his designs. She wants to look good.
“It’s for my husband, “ she explains. “I always go to parties and whatever, but we never go together.”
Le asks if her husband likes the dress.
“He loves it,” she says.
“Good. He better love it. He’s seeing you in it.”
Le becomes silent as he expertly ties a bow on the side of her dress to hold it together. Deciding it needs something else, he asks Kitai to fetch him a brooch. He has her turn around and checks to make sure everything looks right.
“Do you think I need this (brooch)?” asks Diana to Kitai.
“You don’t need it, but it’s nice.”
Le tells Diana to put on her coat. And then to put her fur shawl on.
“I like it; I do.” he says, giving his approval. But then he notices the inner lining of the shawl coming apart. Le races out of the room.
He comes back with a needle and thread and makes his way over to the red couch. He sits down, and begins repairing the shawl.
“This is Thien. He’s all about the details,” says Diana.
“But you can see all the things hanging out,” he retorts.
“I know, but this is not even yours,“ she points out. “I brought my rat fur and he’s fixing it for me so I can look nice.”
Earlier, Le said production is his favourite thing about design. The behind-the-scenes aspect. He enjoys making his clients happy; it makes him happy. He doesn’t care about the glorifying of things.
A woman in sunglasses walks into the showroom. She’s Donna, a hairstylist, returning his clothes and shoes that he lent her.
“Hey Thien,” greets Donna. “You’re like an angel.”
He grins at her from his position on the couch, the fur shawl still on the lap.
“Still waiting for my wings.”
—
Images courtesy of Thien Le
Universal Perspectives Media 