Nestled in the heart of Le Village lives an enormous underground warehouse. For anyone who loves textiles and the thrill of discovery, this place is like stumbling into a cave of hidden gems.
To get deep into the belly of Giroux’ Wholesale, Manufacturing and Liquidation Centre at 402B Montreal Road, you first have to make your way down a set of slightly off-level stairs. It’s a disorienting experience that prepares you for the full-on sensory overload waiting around the corner.
Bolts of raincoat fabrics run on for 25 feet. Heavy-duty vinyls, brocades, upholstery, wools, cottons, flannels, satins, knits, you name it, it’s here in abundance. Boxes of buttons, lace, and notions sit precariously on top of the industrial shelving units, piled so high that shoppers must crane their necks to check out the options. Bins of bra-making supplies—curved underwire, bust cups and stretchy straps in every width—bust out from metal display bins. Another hallway-like section is filled with thousands of zippers, organized in a system that only the employees understand. And, as if there wasn’t enough going on already, there are hundreds of vintage industrial sewing machines tucked in and around the 10,000-square-foot two-story space. It’s quite the contrast from Giroux Sewing Centre, the tidy companion retail store up the road. Let’s just say that this is not a place for anyone with even the mildest case of claustrophobia.
It would be easy for the uninitiated customer to feel overwhelmed by their first visit to the cavernous warehouse. The windowless, maze-like setup and towering aisles of fabric can daze and confuse the most seasoned of fabric hunters. But after one’s eyes adjust to the dim lighting and begin to make sense of the obscure organizational system, a world of opportunities unfolds. Items that simply can’t be found in traditional sewing centres await at every corner. A dark purple zipper with a heart-shaped metal pull to finish a pouch? Check. Industrial seatbelting to sew as handles on a duffel bag? Check. Thick 100% wool coating in a bold checkered print? Check. Flannel-backed satiny lining to line that coat? All available at a great price? Check.
The man behind this wonderful madness is proprietor Paul Giroux, a 64-year-old mustachioed sewing machine mechanic who was raised around fabric. His mother was—and, now in her 90s, still is—a gifted seamstress who sewed all the costumes for her store, Giroux Costume Shop. Paul purchased his inventory over many years at auctions in Quebec and Ontario. When the factory producing Christina swimsuits closed, he filled six 53-foot trucks to haul home all the lycra and sewing machines he could buy. He capitalized on the closing of three Hush Puppy plants in Malone, New York state and a relocated Rawlings plant by stocking his shelves with high-quality leather. He got his hands on bolts of velvet car upholstery when the General Motors plant in St. Therese, Quebec relocated. When Button Craft in Montreal shuttered, he bought tens of thousands of buttons. His delightful treasure hunt for the best fabrics and notions has filled his space to the brim and offered the same moments of serendipity to his customers.
Mercifully, Paul and his warehouse staff know their stuff. From the fibre content to the backstory, they can fill in all the details about almost every textile or notion. If you ask for supplies to reupholster your sailboat cushions, for example, the staff will expertly recommend the right outdoor fabric and trim, and can guide you to the corner of the warehouse to pull it from, all while filling you in on the history of when and where the materials came from.
The people who weave their way through these aisles might be seamstresses, upholsterers, makers, fashion designers, interior designers, textile artists, or anyone who might appreciate the eclectic and quality selection. For those who can’t make it to Cornwall, Giroux’ also has a lucrative eBay store. Two full-time employees tend to it. They ship items all over the world—big bolts of fabric to small sewing machine parts and even odd inventory like the small cigarette snuffer Paul once sold to a Saudi Arabian prince.
Despite the success of his warehouse and fabric store up the street, Paul laments the decline of the industry. He has witnessed many Canadian manufacturers moving their operations abroad, watched the interest in home sewing free fall as the fast fashion trend grew, and he seems especially saddened by the dwindling numbers of talented seamstresses he sees.
But his love of the industry has never waned. Paul can’t help but inspect the construction techniques on a customer’s clothing, quickly commenting on an unusually short zipper fly on someone’s pair of jeans or the sleeve construction of their blouse. His whole face lights up when he describes, in detail, the weave of new fabrics on the market and he’s more than happy to diagnose a fabric’s fibre content by flicking a flame to a small swatch and smelling the smoke.
If you’re lucky enough to visit the warehouse when Paul is there, you not only get to hunt for fabric treasures but also get swept up in the excitement and experience of an industry master.
