听
Joleen Mitton has been hiding all her life. At school in East Van, she would rarely talk about her Cree background and when she did, the usual response was rejection or worse. When she told her first boyfriend she was First Nations, he used an ethnic slur, so she punched him. Later, she was model-scouted while waiting in line for a free smoothie. Aged 15, she began travelling the world, modelling for brands like Lanc么me and Vivienne Westwood, feigning an interest in fashion. 鈥淚 was a tomboy and a basketball player who wore sporty, hip-hop-style clothing, and I had always been stocky. Then I grew tall and thin and the fashion world got interested in me,鈥� she says. 鈥淥ne of my first jobs was modelling for a lingerie brand in Taiwan. I had always drawn strength from being a strong athlete, and was only just coming to terms with my femininity. Suddenly, people were telling me to be thin and sexy. I felt like a piece of meat.鈥�
Not only was modelling going against her real interests but she was still expected to conceal her heritage. 鈥淢y agency would tell people that I was half-Asian 鈥撎齮here are even stories in Hong Kong magazines that say that,鈥� she says.
After nine years in the fashion industry, she quit. 鈥淚 had a kind of identity crisis at 25. I had developed an eating disorder because of the constant pressure to starve myself for three days before a big shoot or whatever. I was having cold sweats at night. I鈥檇 had enough of being someone else鈥檚 product. I was lonely 鈥撎齀 was interested in different things to the other girls and I just didn鈥檛 want to be there.鈥�
On returning to Vancouver, she began a new career as a support worker for people in the First Nations community 鈥撎齢er first opportunity to really learn more about her own heritage (her mom had been raised in foster care, so Mitton was not familiar with Cree culture as a child). But at this point, she felt it was necessary to conceal her model past. 鈥淚 thought that there would be a kind of judgment of me,鈥� she explains.
Initially, her work was with adults, but she soon learned how hard it was to break ingrained patterns that had been established over a lifetime. 鈥淢any times, people returned to drugs 鈥撎齠our of my ex-clients have died of fentanyl overdoses 鈥� and, in the end, I found it too heartbreaking,鈥� she explains.
She started working with the Urban Butterflies, a group run by the (PAFNW) for girls aged nine to 13 who are in foster care. 鈥淲ith kids, you can mould them and be that fork in the road 鈥� show them they don鈥檛 have to grow up to be their parents.鈥�
When she became involved in the PAFNW鈥檚 Mentor Me program for 14- to 25-year-olds ageing out of foster care, she faced new challenges. 鈥淲e started to lose them. They weren鈥檛 interested in resum茅s and life skills 鈥撎齛ll the things we were trying to teach them. We had some deaths to suicide and some drug overdoses.鈥�
At this point, Mitton decided she needed to share her own experiences, from her "crazy" childhood to her escape into another kind of craziness 鈥� modelling. 鈥淚 wanted to show them what I鈥檇 done and let them know they have options听鈥撎齮o use my model background as a teaching resource,鈥� she explains. This was the seed of the idea that led to Vancouver鈥檚 first Indigenous Fashion Week, which takes place next week.
For this, Mitton has stopped hiding and brought together all the threads of her identity 鈥撎齛s a First Nations woman, fashion insider and someone who works with young people. The event showcases more than 25 designers in 20 hours of shows over four daysand the majority of models are from the Mentor Me programme. 鈥淚t鈥檚 about exposure for our designers who want to be seen on a good stage. It鈥檚 also to prepare the girls from Mentor Me for the world of work. It鈥檚 not about them becoming models 鈥撎齣t鈥檚 more of a way to show them how you show up for a job interview and walk with pride, having the confidence to enter any room,鈥� Mitton says.
Some non-First Nations designers are being featured, but is reconciliation also a goal for the event? Mitton says no. 鈥淩econciliation is the scary R word,鈥� she says. 鈥淭his is a step in the right direction, for sure, but I think we鈥檙e still a couple of generations away from genuinely achieving that.鈥�
Mitton says there is a true First Nations aesthetic established in fashion 鈥� she cites Yukon designer Sho Sho Esquiro鈥檚 traditional beading and Squamish Pam Baker鈥檚 totem-influenced pieces, and says the work of Jeneen Frei Njootli, a Vuntut Gwich鈥檌n artist, reminds her of the Aurora Borealis. Then there are the ubiquitous blanket scarves, moccasins and other First Nations-influenced pieces ever present on the high street. Is it acceptable for non-Indigenous people to wear these designs, or does that cross into cultural appropriation? 鈥淪ure, wear it,鈥漵ays Mitton. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e doing it anyway and that鈥檚 OK. We just want you to buy it from us.鈥�
听
鈥� 麻豆传媒映画Indigenous Fashion Week is from July 26 to July 29 at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. Admission is free. Info and schedule available .
