McQueen is Dead. Long Live McQueen.
("The Girl Who Lived in the Tree" by Alexander McQueen, on display at The Metropolitan Museum of Art.)
Last night, after Work Adventures & a slew of meetings, & ducked out of the Flatiron a little bit early & hurried to go see "Savage Beauty," the McQueen exhibit at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Oh boy oh boy oh boy. This is the last chance to see it-- I had been meaning to get to the exhibit from day one, but things just wouldn't come together. I had to see it with Jenny-- that wasn't even up for debate-- so we both had to get our schedules in order, & it just wasn't happening. There wasn't any doubt about going-- McQueen is a huge influence on my Oubliette campaign & the reason I started paying attention to fashion in the first place. Heck, if it wasn't for McQueen's influence on Lady Gaga's fashion I probably wouldn't have ever paid attention to her. People talk about what they were doing when they found out John F. Kennedy had died; I remember what I was doing when I found out Lee McQueen had died-- I was reading a Extreme Beauty, a fashion book that Jenny (or my in-laws, via Jenny) had given me about the intersection of body & fashion, which was chock full of McQueen's work. Yes, waiting in line took forever. I wanted to get a membership-- Jenny talked me out of it, but I still think we should have. Skipping the two & a half hour line would have been worth it. That said, & speaking of "worth it," waiting in a two & a half hour line was totally worth it. The exhibit is exquisitely curated; the atmosphere reminded me a lot of Sleep No More, actually. The choice to give all the mannequins jeweled masks instead of heads was an incredibly smart decision. Seeing a lot of the pieces on display & in person totally changed my appreciation for them. Books & videos & photographs just can't do justice to some of the pieces; the feathers in one of the "Widows of Culloden" are striking in a picture but amazing up close, Savile Row taken to incredible heights. The golden scalemail from the "In Memory of Elizabeth Howe, Salem, 1692" show looks incredible in person; utterly like a suit of enchanted armor. The exhibit was crowded, but well done & deeply affecting. I really felt like I was inside a scene from my own stories; McQueen has sunk his claws so deeply into Oubliette that it just would have seemed natural for the mannequins to come alive & start talking about Watchtowers & Demiurges. If you aren't going to have an opportunity to go, I strongly recommend looking through the Selected Objects & the Videos from the Met, which will at least give you a taste of the black sugar. After we walked through, Jenny & I went up to the rooftop garden of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I had a martini in a plastic glass, & the bartender said, while making it, "I just can't drink gin like that." You, sir, are an animal. The martini is the hallmark of civilization.