A Crazy Notion

"It’s the only high-fashion-slash-golf-school on the planet,” said local clothing designer Joy Teiken, standing in the doorway of the Como Avenue warehouse she shares with her husband, Craig, a professional golf instructor. Originally built in the early 1900s to manufacture tractors and other farm equipment, the front space retains a utilitarian air, despite the putting green and some black-and-white portraits of pro golfers.

But behind door number two exists Teiken’s ultra-feminine wonderland. Mannequins wear strappy floral sundresses and hats with silk boutonnières. Bolts of elaborate fabric burst from a wire rack or are otherwise scattered about the room. Colorful handbags dangle from exposed nails and random pegs, as if they were Chinese lanterns. A pink velour sofa sits before a giant treasure-chest-turned-coffee-table, which is all but buried in copies of W. Along a wall of south-facing windows, there are three sewing machines, and over Teiken’s worktable, rolls of ribbon hang from the ceiling as would the pots and pans in the kitchen of a serious cook—always within arm’s reach.

“I surround myself with things I think are pretty,” said Teiken, whose ideas aren’t born in the sketchbook. Rather, she lets found objects and fabrics dictate the direction of each item of clothing she sews. “A button or a pin or a buckle might be the inspiration for a piece.” A pair of oversized, vintage buttons, each with a tiny, bead-worked constellation, served to inspire a satiny, cropped jacket. A bolt of white cotton fabric, screen-printed with autumnal treescapes, informed a light-weight sheath and matching trench. “Once I find that thing that’s interesting and fun, I can take my inspiration from there.”

So, where does Teiken turn in her perpetual hunt for beautiful fabric and notions? Although she’s been spending much time in New York City and Chicago of late, doing fashion shows and tending to boutiques that stock her ready-to-wear, she’s got two local standbys: Melrose Antiques, in the East Hennepin neighborhood of Minneapolis, especially for old buttons and beads, and, of course, S.R. Harris, the go-to fabric store for any serious stitcher.

Not surprisingly, the resulting aesthetic leans heavily upon pairing old with new. Teiken likes taking apart vintage kimonos and using them to make handbags with feather trim and shiny Lucite handles, or to detail outfits made from newer upholstery fabrics. An old tablecloth recently came back to life as a crocheted, strapless dress with a trim of pink satin pleats—a creation she calls the “sleazy Easter dress.” She has a taste for flowers and plant life; and there’s a proclivity for including giant fabric buttons, shiny beads, and oversized bows wherever possible. But Teiken denies having any preconceived wants of the raw materials she hunts. When something hits, it just hits. “For me, it’s not about any one designer or time period,” she said. “It’s all about the feeling I get from it.” —Christy DeSmith