I am in awe, open mouthed, dumb-stuck and overwhelmed by such an outpouring of beauty, inspiration, art and invention. As Alice steps Through the Looking Glass into Wonderland, the elements and Nature rage and nurture - politics and religion combine in a spectacle at once painful and lovely to behold. This is a world where both the senses and the mind are utterly stimulated by design. Design becomes a towering giant that engenders what it means to be alive in the all-too-often empty narrative of Fashion.
I am in awe and saddened that such an exquisite talent was broken by human heartache and a weariness of life that came all too prematurely. Such a redefinition of wonder in a world of looks; fashion has never been quite so lovely nor so magnificently interpreted with such painstaking elegance. But this goes way beyond that world; this is somewhere else. He re-wrote the book. He fashioned a eulogy to fashion that came from another country, another time; a place of infinite invention. His own interpretation of breathing, being Alice.
And oh what huge love was lost, what a great and bold and bursting heart. What genius was held in the frame of a shaven-headed hoodie with silver-needled fingers. Could he not bear it any longer? Could he not continue to produce this shining light, this knight in tarnished armour?
I am in awe and feel more alive. I want to visit the show again. I want the world to see it, to glimpse what it is possible to imagine from a singular, beautiful mind. To be stimulated, excited and beguiled.
RIP - you were ace, McQueen. And this exhibition a wonderful glimpse into your Wonderland.
