McQueen

(The above title is a clickable link to the British article about the passing of fashion legend Alexander McQueen.)

(This post was begun on the day his death was revealed to the press, and finished several days later. Sorry for the delays.)

I was deeply saddened today when I heard about the news of (Lee) Alexander McQueen's suicide, just days after his beloved mother passed away. Despite not following his career closely, I got the impression that we was somewhat of a savant in the fashion world. He changed the scope of fashion design, and even the production value of the shows themselves. His immense talent catapulted him to the upper echelons of the design houses, as he formed his own brand, and even took over as head designer at Givency. Pretty remarkable for someone so young.

But McQueen's fashion shows depicted his often tumultuous moods, and a dark, sombre tone that overshadowed the buoyancy of some of his peers' exhibitions. He was *serious* – and serious about fashion.

I can't imagine being one of the best in the world for any particular field. Maybe it's my insecurities, or my more modest upbringing, but considering that he was only several years older than me, and world renowned by his late twenties, makes me think that I need to hustle.

(I have three vintage looking postcards displayed in my bedroom to remind me to work diligently at my crafts. What those crafts are, I'm still not sure... I guess I'd like to someday make some money off of telling silly stories, or drawing a chuckle out of passersby. But the three postcards are as follows: "Keep hustling to keep happy." "Plan your work, and then work your plan." "Anything worth doing at all is worth doing well." I am trying to keep myself in check.)

Despite an odd sense of sadness that fell over me when hearing the news of this stranger's passing, I can empathize with this man. I know what it feels like to be stuck in that well of despair, even though the rest of the world assumes that you are on top of your game. Surely, my 'game' and his were lightyears apart, but I know the sensation of that tailspin of loss and helplessness. I am sad for his sake that he couldn't find that hook to keep himself grounded as things began to turn for him. Wishing that he would have been able to find some sort of assistance and support for all that he clearly was experiencing. I can't imagine what it felt like to be him, but I know the feeling of grief all too well. And no matter how famous, wealthy, or successful any of us may become, it never shields us from the pain of losing what we love, whether that is a person, an object, a thought, or an emotion. Unfortunately, that is universal.

Even though Alexander McQueen was anything but ordinary, he still fell victim to the commonalities of humanity: the question of how we negotiate the pain as it surfaces.

I wish for his sake, he could have been exempt. And I wish for the world that they could still marvel at his limitless talent and vision. May this remind us all to appreciate the lightness as it surrounds us, and dredge through the fleeting darkness, until we find our way out...