Sunday, April 11, 2010
The Death of an Oxymoron
On February 12, 2010, Alexander McQueen was pronounced dead in his wardrobe. A wave of devastation came over me when I heard this,because I realized that I lost my idolized epitome of fashion. McQueen was the designer who despised the glamor and publicity of fashion, and rather confided in the sculpture and intricate art of designing clothing. Alexander, known as Lee by close friends, could care less about the fashion industry and hated getting photos taken to be put into magazines. Truly, Lee loved to have people leaving his fashion shows trembling and creeped out by what they had previously viewed. I think of it as scaring people into his clothing, because McQueen still proved to be greatly successful with his twist of apathy about what others thought. At shows, models would walk to the sound of crashing cars and insane asylums, or they could be living chess piece. In one show, models in breathtaking white dresses walked to the end of the runway and got drenched by car paint machines, making everyone a unique pattern. Another show was held in the dungeons where Marie Antoinette was held before being beheaded. Who would think of such things other than Alexander McQueen? Lee could easily design a collection in a day, but the remaining time was then used for the presentation of his master pieces. I appreciate more than any other designer, McQueen's ability to make terrifying presentations of beautiful clothing. The intensity of scariness brings out the gorgeous art within the looks. Lee, you will forever be remembered as the one who endured the fashion industry without a flying f of what the public thought. You redefined fashion for me.
"I don't really believe in flooding the market with loads of goods that don't mean much, and (you) lose your identity.”
His identity will never be lost