Introduction
From the Rez to the Runway: Forging My Path in Fashion
by Christian Allaire
Every so often, a fashion memoir sashays in wearing no pretense—just heart, hustle, and a sense of humour. Christian Allaire's From the Rez to the Runway is precisely that: a breezy, candid diary of a Canadian kid who fell for fashion via TV and magazines and then—plot twist—made it to the front row. I loved it not because the sentences are stitched with designer-level finery, but because the story fits. It's relatable, generous, and gloriously honest.
I have covered Vancouver indigenous Fashion Week for a few years now and have been impressed not only with the high quality of design but also by the community and welcoming spirit of the participants. Christian Allaire wrote about VIFW for Vogue, and his interest and insights have brought many more eyes to this incredible event. Christian has created his own mandate to cover Indigenous fashion and share Indigenous art, culture and stories. From the Rez To The Runway is Christian Allaire's story of how he entered the fashion world and eventually found his unique voice that celebrates and informs about his culture.
FROM THE REZ TO THE RUNWAY
About the Author
Christian Allaire is an Ojibwe, Italian, and French writer from the Nipissing First Nation in northern Ontario. After earning his journalism degree at Toronto Metropolitan University (née Ryerson) in 2014, he headed to New York, cutting his teeth at Footwear News before landing at Vogue, where he's now Senior Fashion & Style Writer. He's built a beat championing Indigenous designers and covering moments like Indigenous Fashion Arts in Toronto, Vancouver and the Santa Fe Indian Market—proof that fashion journalism can be both fabulous and community-minded.
CHRISTIAN ALLAIRE
FROM THE REZ TO THE RUNWAY
The Review
The set-up: rez roots, runway dreams
The book opens with Allaire on the Nipissing First Nation reserve, where his earliest lessons in design come from home and community: powwow regalia, ribbon work, beadwork, the shimmer of jingle dresses sewn by his mum and aunts. Fashion isn't abstract here; it's living culture. These scenes are tender and tactile—you can almost hear the metal cones, feel the weight of a beaded belt—and they ground his later love of catwalk theatrics.
Just as formative is his pop-culture education; like many of us, he was glued to Fashion Television—Canada's portal to Paris—and paging through Vogue, dreaming big while negotiating how (and whether) he fit into a predominantly white, very glossy world. (A heart-warming full-circle: Jeanne Beker of FT fame pens the book's foreword.)
I related to Christian's stories of preparing his wardrobe for his day at high school. While I grew up in different circumstances and a much earlier time, I was similarly obsessed with my high school attire. Much like Christian dressing like the high school hallway was a Paris catwalk, it brought both positive and negative attention and put a target on your back as the "gay fashion guy". Developing a skin as thick as a chic leather motto jacket served both Christian and me well.
FROM THE REZ TO THE RUNWAY
The leap: Toronto to New York
Allaire's path runs through Toronto—TMU's journalism halls, internships, bylines—and then straight to New York. He writes with a confessional charm about unpaid grind, industry gatekeeping, and the awkward thrill of being the new kid at the coolest lunch table. The appeal is its relatability: who hasn't felt like their lanyard was fancier than their bank account? Each step along his journey from the Rez to the runway, Allaire had a sense that something was missing; he missed his Indigenous culture and sought out native friends wherever and whenever he could.
Finding voice: fashion as advocacy (and fun)
What distinguishes this memoir isn't only the backstage pass; it's the way Allaire reframes the room. He connects the sparkle of a Met Gala with the pride of a powwow circle, arguing that style is a language—and translation is a responsibility. He writes about showing up, lifting others, and the delicate work of correcting misperceptions about Indigenous design without losing the joy of clothes. If you've read his earlier book The Power of Style, you'll recognize the same thesis: fashion isn't superficial when it protects, honours, and restores culture.
The vibes: casual, witty, totally readable
Think of the prose as good chat over coffee after a sample sale—light, funny, and honest when it needs to be. He cracks a joke and then slips in a truth, the way a great stylist sneaks a statement earring into your capsule wardrobe. If you're hunting for capital-L Literature, you might grumble. If you're here for a human being finding his lane and widening it for others, you'll speed-read the whole thing and text your group chat.
The fashion content: enough sparkle, zero snobbery
There's plenty for clothes people—MET red carpets, editorial shoots, designer cameos—but it's delivered with a wink rather than a lecture. Even the industry's less-lovely bits (burnout, exclusivity, the "who do you know?" dance) are handled with a generous spirit. You get the sense he's still the kid from Nipissing First Nation who loves a good outfit but loves a good community more. The result is a memoir that wears its politics lightly and its heart openly.
Receipts for the bookish among us
For the fact-checkers in the front row: the memoir was released on March 25, 2025, by HarperCollins (Collins imprint), and—chef's kiss—comes with blurbs from Lily Gladstone and Chioma Nnadi. If you were, like me, ready to insist there must be a Vogue Canada, take a bow and sit down: Condé Nast lists editions around the world, but Canada isn't one of them. Allaire works for the New York-based Vogue and makes it gloriously Canadian anyway.
Verdict (and who should read it)
Read this if you're a fashion lover who also believes clothes come with context. Read it if you're an Indigenous creative—or any creative—navigating rooms that weren't designed with you in mind. Read it if you want a reminder that a runway can be a bridge, not a velvet rope. From the Rez to the Runway is aspirational without being alienating, political without being po-faced, and most of all, fun. Like a killer pair of beaded earrings with your favourite denim jacket, it just works.
Shelf note: Light, lively, gratifyingly Canadian. And absolutely Fashion Book Friday-worthy.
MYSELF AT VANCOUVER INDIGENOUS FASHION WEEK
CIAO FOR NOW, J. ANDREW JACKSON