Oh hey, Monday. I know I was taking a hiatus from blogging as I work on a new look and feel, but I had to come out of semi-retirement to write a post today. The world is a little less glam today, as we lost our favorite star man, David Bowie.
It's strange- last night I was half ass watching the "Globes" and thinking how a lot of celebrities today lack any real star power, how they are just products of a well trained and well paid team of stylists, personal trainers, and spray tanners. I found last night's show so very lacking in originality- with nothing new, and nothing fresh to offer. Even Lady Gaga, whose boundary pushing I always admired, was playing it all tame in a John Singer Sargent/Marilyn Monroe homage. Where are the cojones? I can't be the only one who misses the meat dress.
But even when artists like Gaga try to play provocateur, it more often than not feels contrived, cloying, and trying a bit too hard to be different for different's sake. But Bowie- fucking Bowie.
He was the absolute real deal- a beautiful alien in the serious moonlight. I recently watched a brilliant BBC documentary, "David Bowie- Five Years". The film chronicles Bowie's meteoric rise into rock and roll famedom and all the amazing style incarnations that came with it. And true, five years is but a mere snapshot into a life, but I challenge anyone out there to create a canon of music and fashion in a lifetime that he handcrafted in five years. That's why I had to write today.
And as soon as I heard the news, there were three people I thought of in my life that I knew to be huge Bowie fans. Two were former colleagues and one was my aunt, who has always worshipped at the Bowie altar. And that's the thing with Bowie- even though he changed his music and image so frequently, you just know a Bowie fan- and they remained lifelong Bowie fans. I'm not sure there's that many other artists who could have that appeal. And when I think about it, I've never, ever heard somebody say they hate Bowie. Like ever. Maybe Johnny Lydon said it when he was with the Pistols, but he probably didn't mean it.
I loved all of his music. When you listen to "Changes" as a grown up, it's every bit as meaningful if not more than when you listened to it in high school. It just holds up. As does almost all of his amazing music. And to think what he did way back when to wreak havoc with traditional thoughts on gender and sexuality, all done with signature grace and coolness.
There will never, ever be another Bowie. Not even close.
One of my favorite Bowie albums is Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps). I know it's an odd choice but I am a huge fan of that rock/disco 70s vibe that the Stones also did really well. I remember as a young American who wanted nothing more than to hob nob with rock stars and superstars, this album made me fantasize about a glammed up life. I used to blast "Fashion" and think about staging my own runway show. And listening to "Ashes to Ashes" and it's talk of junkies and funk to funky made me feel cool by association. He was a beautiful creature that made me want to be beautiful too. I also felt so drawn to him as the Thin White Duke- so elegant and perfect and elongated. Ugh. How is it that he is gone?
I grew up very much a child of the 80s- and Bowie in the 80s was something to behold. Big pop bangers like "Modern Love" and "China Girl" and all those beautiful double breasted suits, high waisted pants, and shock of blonde hair. Bowie and Jagger. Bowie and Tina. Bowie and everything. How I loved him.
Another thing I've always admired about Bowie is he did not enter advanced age in a way that made me want to look away. When I watch Daltrey perform nowadays with a shirt unbuttoned to the navel, and even when I watch my beloved Stones, I find it a sobering reminder of why it's better to burn out than fade away. And it's crazy that his new album came out this month, as a gift to his millions of fans. Bowie was not going to go out trying to recapture something that once was, because he was always way more about what's to become.
There will never be another Bowie. And that is both happy and sad. Happy because we had him for so many amazing years of music and style and shape shifting. But sad because nobody will ever come close, and sad because I always thought he would live forever. Thanks for the great gift of your music and inimitable style, Mr. Bowie, the Thin White Duke, Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, Modern Lover,Scary Monster, Diamond Dog. I will always celebrate your music and hope that you find out whether there really is life on Mars. I could go on and on but there's simply too much to say about how profound his influence was on so many, so I'll leave it there. Nobody wore it better. And I could never write a piece to do him justice. Many people have asked me why I am so enamored of fashion, and all you have to do is look at Bowie's many looks to answer that question.
Cause that's what's up this Bowie rules kind of Monday in the 212. Yours, in sound and vision. And gee, life really is a funny thing. And yes, you were still way too young to die.
You betcha. XO