Long Live McQueen

The world lost an incredible talent yesterday, when Lee Alexander McQueen died.

Alexander McQueen was a true visionary and his talent captured a spirit rarely seen. Like a poet, he wove patterns and fabrics to create music. Like a musician, he played with length, fit and edges to create, well, poetry. I was – and will always be – a big fan. He had style, wit, attitude. A post-punk f-you British attitude.

My first McQueen purchase were these incredibly ridiculous Skull shoes that I bought on the eve of Sebastian Horsley’s London book party in Fall of 2007. I remember walking into the incredible Bond Street store and knowing I’d walk out with something. I didn’t exactly just walk out, mind you. I walked out a full 5 inches taller.

McQueen was an artist. And like all true artists, he didn’t bend and was true to his vision of what fashion is, was and could be. He pushed it. Skulls became fashionable, shoes unwearable.

That’s the thing with art. There’s a mark left. An intangible impression.

I’ll miss you Lee Alexander McQueen. We all will.