I don't claim to know a lot about fashion, but I know when yet another icon and visionary has slipped away.
The news reported today that after a distressing week, innovative designer Alexander McQueen sadly passed away this morning. Various news reports claim he committed suicide after he struggled to cope with the death of his mother, whom he was incredibly close and inspired by, on February 3rd.
People die every day, sure. But what really stirred me about this piece of news is not only that one of the two men who was responsible for my foray into fashion journalism has passed on, but why another incredible individual has taken his own life. One can't deny that over the past few years we've guiltily lapped up the headlines reporting deaths of superstars, celebrities and icons. Call it whatever you will, but people are obsessing over death more than ever.
I can't explain the general public's psyche and why we choose to bombard ourselves with snippets of information, tiny flecks of insight into celebrity life-before-deaths. Perhaps for some people; more than whom will openly admit; it's schadenfreude. Before your conscience inwardly (or outwardly) protests, tell it then why it is you read gossip magazines, or smirk at the fact that as a result of John Terry's infidelities he has been stripped of his crowning Captain title.
Because, within each one of us, we crave the idea that we're better than celebrities. Better than the untouchables. These people have the money, power, beauty and glamour, yet they appear to manifest something ever darker than we can even begin to understand.
Someone said to me recently that some people are just born with the deepest depths of their souls dipped in darkness. A recent report I read also proves what many of us believed already; that genius comes at the price of "madness". Van Gogh, Einstein, Aristotle, Plath, Woolf, and now McQueen. All had great minds, and all were reportedly "touched with fire". It appears that genius does indeed come with a price.
We hunger to know how these great minds work. Literary and musical geniuses left behind masses of their work which experts have pored over from generation to generation in an attempt to seek out an explanation, an answer to what became so unbearable they would rather take their own lives than live to see it. They have left behind children, parents, lovers and riches.
Looking at McQueen's intensely dark collections now, it is easy to see that his genius came from within a very sad and complicated place. The enfant terrible of fashion held outrageous shows notorious for their statements. His clothes spoke for themselves. Who now will ever forget his iconic skull scarves or his knuckleduster clutch? McQueen's Spring 2010 collection is structured, eerie, Gothic and alien all at the same time, a season normally reserved for girliness a la Luella.
Yes, death haunted McQueen his whole creative life, but he moulded it into a black form of art. Rest in peace McQueen, your work will never be forgotten - be assured we will continue to obsess over it generation after generation.
