Before there was Aunties and Uncles at College & Lippincott, there was a store called Spazz. Who remembers Spazz? They sold phat raver pants, hoodies and t shirts with graffiti on them, and gave away free copies of VICE Magazine Spazz bears the crown of “first skateboard/snowboard shop in Toronto”, having opened its doors in 1993, and later reincarnated itself to Omy Gallery.

I was in grade seven at the time, and attended King Edward Elementary & Secondary School, just a few doors north. Spazz is where I would get my first ever VICE; my poor little brain was educated on the most explicit of things. I would read them with my door closed, eyes glued wide to articles on transexual Phillipino gangs, lumberjack sex parties, piercings in weird places, printed swears, and of course the epic Dos & Don’ts section, which very possibly has had a lasting effect on my own personal style, and interest & eye for what other people wear. (Check it at shedoesthecity.com/fashion).

After school, when we weren’t going to The St. Stephens House Drug Free Arcade or KOS (now Nirvana) to get fries and gravy for the College streetcar ride home, my friends and I would shuffle over to Spazz, to spend all of our lunch money on things that weren’t for lunch.

I remember thinking the people in the shop, much like the people who wrote Vice, were so so cool. I felt so so lame. Apparently one of them was in the band Len, or something. Maybe my purchase would make them think I was cool enough to hang out there? Cool enough to eventually morph (after puberty) into one of them? Either way, I thought I was THE SHIT when I sewed baby blue raver-style pants out of fun fur and paired them with my Spazz logo’d T shirt. I wore this outfit to school with pride. Life is embarrassing.

These are the awesome things I was thinking about as I waited in line outside Twist Gallery (above where The Social once stood on Queen West) for the Vice Afterparty for Project X screening This was my first time attending any kind of Vice-affiliated event, unless you count the time my friend T.L. accidentally peed on my copy of the Dos & Dont’s book as an event.

The party started at 10pm and by 9:30 there was already a strong line forming. More time to think back on a tale from a friend who once interned at the Toronto Vice office: guys wearing sunglasses indoors, plaid shirts and drinking PBR, they were rude to her and she got fired for crying when her bf dumped her. But I digress. As I got closer and closer to the doors I contemplated: What will a party be like hosted by a cult culture based on how cool it is to not care?

Once inside the smell of catered Porchetta & Co. sandwiches filled the air. Glow sticks with Project X printed on them hung from string along the walls, and girls hooked them onto already-dangly earrings. DJs Famous Players played our favourite early-2000s hits. The night started and ended with a crowd full of fun times. People got wasted, hung out, made out and danced. Pretty much the same as every other media-tinged, open-bar Queen West hot jam. But cooler. 

While my fuzzy blue raver pants would definitely not be cool today, VICE still is. That’s longevity for ya! They are also still a bunch of assholes, but lovable assholes.

Words & Photos by Becca Lemire (Click to Enlarge)