Avery Trufelman

Linda knows this, and I think that's why she enjoys the show.

From the vantage point of Linda's living room, the beautiful people on TV seem so small and innocuous.

They almost look like little dolls.

Since this story came out, the Teatro de la Mode would become, during the pandemic and the years that followed, somewhat revived, which I will tell you about after the break.

I met Brielle when she was a grad student, and now she works at the Maryhill Museum of Art.

I mean, it's wild.

Now Brielle sort of has a version of the job that our protagonist Linda once had.

In many ways, because of the Teatro de la Mode.

I mean, it's a gallery of a kind of clothing that really doesn't exist anymore.

Wait, the feathers on the Teatro de la Mode?

And if you want to see all those hats and dresses and teeny tiny shoes, you have to go out to Maryhill.

Like, you have to make that pilgrimage.

That is art curator at Maryhill Museum of Art, Stephen Graff.

And people get dressed up and trek out to this museum in the middle of the Columbia River Gorge because the Teatro de la Mode isn't going to be touring around again anytime soon.

Those clothes are fragile.

So the mannequins rotate out of their display every couple of months to give the clothes and their curators a little break.

But their reputation has traveled far beyond them, especially during the pandemic.

A number of fashion designers and brands proceeded to present their 2021 collections in miniature.

The Belgian designer Walter van Bierendonck made glammed-up-looking fashion dolls that were almost like Barbies.

Dior made little tiny dress forms, the kind without a head, and made fully intact couture gowns for them.