McQueen Is Cred
Back in 1997 I was talking to Bjork about the uncommon beauty of her 'Homogenic' album. She was raving, conceptualising, emoting and variously making the case for art that is out there. Part of the project was making a record sleeve that would support this caper and so she called in the designer Alexander McQueen.
She may have regretted it because soon she was overpowered with a tonnage of hair, tape, clogs, enormous false nails and severe contact lenses. So how could the singer possibly make contact with her fans under such circumstances? "All I could do," she explained, "was to give out love".
Which is essentially why Bjork was moved to write a strange poem after McQueen's recent death. The designer was up to her own standards of art and when the media found them talking together the drift was funny, intimate and challenging. And for the same reason, there was a rare, reflective moment during the Brits, when Lady Gaga also paid her dues. Music and style are made to parade and collide and the absence of McQueen is a bad thing.