McQ is eternal

It came as a shock. McQ is dead? This morning I (and the entire fashion world which were assembling at the Bryant Park for the NY Fashion Week) woke up to the news that Alexander McQueen, the famed British fashion designer–an oxymoron before McQ came along–is dead. Over the past few years, a lot of famous celebrities passed away at young age but McQueen’s death touched me in a way that other celebrity deaths didn’t.

Because I was at his shows. I saw him talk. In short, I think I knew him.

My mom works for the consulting part of that rarefied fashion world, and McQueen knew her (he didn’t know me; if you are a famous designer, you have better things to do than going around, remembering names of your colleagues’ kids). But I knew him. I saw him from afar. I saw him upclose. In fact, I think McQueen exposed me to female nudity through his fashion. His couture showed me the grace and elegance of the female body.

Now, he is gone. Especially shocking because I heard it is a suicide. Even in that rarefied world these things happen? McQueen was an eccentric genius anyway but still it feels strange, you know. It is like something you took for granted your entire life was thrown upside down. I am truly sad. For me, it is McQueen, not Gautier nor Ford, who was Yves Saint Laurent of the present day. Eccentric, quirky yet relaxed, excitable and funny, McQ is a fitting example of YSL’s very words, “Fashion fades but style is eternal.” He will be missed.

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