An Older, Deader McQueen

Since Alexander McQueen died earlier this year by his own hand, fashion acolytes the world over have remained in a perpetual state of shock and grief.  The posthumous tribute to McQueen held at St. Paul’s Cathedral last year brought the biggest names in fashion, design, business and entertainment: a guest list fit for a queen.For me, the death of this particular McQueen was indeed tragic and untimely, yet superseded by the powerful memory of an older, deader, unrelated McQueen.  For all the fanfare surrounding the fashion designer’s death, the American actor who shares his namesake to me deserved far greater posthumous recognition than he received.  While Steve McQueen has been firmly entrenched in the list of top earning deceased celebrities for some years now, his 1980 death from metastatic tumours in Mexico went without the public outpouring of sympathy that has accompanied the recent passing of entertainers like Michael Jackson or designers like Alexander McQueen.Many will have heard tell of Steve McQueen’s visits to the United Kingdom, invites to the Chelsea Football Club’s dressing room at halftime, nights at the Waldorf Hotel London with German film starlets, or the time he encountered a British director wishing to cast him and, after countless pints of bitter, turned down the role because he was unable to “cry on command”.While the comparison might seem far-fetched it is apt nonetheless: as James Salter once said, “a name is a destiny: it is the first of all poems”.  While Alexander McQueen’s artistic talents and contributions are beyond doubt or dispute, his posthumous treatment in the mainstream press and in the fashion world more specifically raise an important question.  There is indeed myth behind both McQueens, commonality in a larger than life presence and an untimely end, albeit as a result of different circumstances.  But what is it that we celebrate as a public?  Steve McQueen, all car chases, aviators, nights at the Waldorf London and impossible cool, defining style itself; or Alexander, the talented introvert with ample creativity and a flourish for tailoring?  I’m not sure anymore.