Photo Source: www.style.com
Marcio Madeira
When Jeff and I would have our small “style.com” talks, he never failed to mention Alexander McQueen’s collections. With Jeff’s wide fashion vocabulary, he articulated the design so vividly. It was as if every word he uttered translated into a stroke of the master artist. He was such a huge fan. For him, the man was a genius.
Jeff and I both love fashion and the arts. We both love letting go of our stressful moments in the gallery, drowning ourselves in colors, lines and shapes. I can just imagine how Jeff would put the experience into words: being drowned in a sea of dancing colors. But just like every other friendship, we have our differences and our own preferences, especially in designers. He adored Alexander McQueen so much that I imagine him giving off a tantrum if I wouldn’t agree on the designer’s excellence. Jeff has an eye not just for things beautiful but for things artfully done. It’s as if he has this power to see beyond the design, looking through it, as if being able to view the whole process of how it existed. That’s one thing I learned from him and am continuously learning – developing the eye to see beyond face value. Jeff saw that in every collection Alexander McQueen came up with. His designs at times seemed like costumes for me but for Jeff they were works of art translated into an everyday necessity. His shows appeared to me as entertainment but for Jeff they were exhibits, with models strutting down carrying pieces that would have been painted in an artist’s canvass.
When I heard the news that the designer passed away, I immediately informed Jeff. I know the news would devastate him but little did I know that it would bother me as well. Jeff’s fondness towards the designer has influenced me at a certain degree. I started adoring his work, may be not for its aesthetic beauty or its wearability but for its craftsmanship. Everything was artfully done, amazingly constructed. The man was not just a designer, not just an artist. He was a genius, a visionary.
I was looking through his collections on the morning after his death, I found myself more amazed than ever on his artistry. According to the news, his death was an alleged suicide. For an aspiring artist like me who everyday dreams to be in his shoes, I only have one question – Why. I again looked through his collections, read reviews and researched on his inspirations but found myself more confused. His designs translated beauty, expressed dreams, and spelled success. Nothing in his collection showed any reason to end his own life. He may appear to us as a man who is living a life that most of us envy – the talent, the opportunity, the fame, the glory. But we do not know or see the life he is in when the runaway lights shut down. It may have been total darkness for him. Darkness that we didn’t see, that he didn’t want us to experience. He made sure that when the lights turned on, when the models walked in, the designs would highlight the magnificence of life or...the beauty of what he hoped life would have been for him.
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