RIP Alexander McQueen

I suppose this wouldn't be a style blog if I didn't say a few words about Alexander McQueen. It's not like I can really say I followed his career, leaning as it did more towards haute couture - a field I confess to knowing little about.

But I do own a McQueen scarf. It's fashioned out of silk, coloured wine red and shaped like a tie with two fat ends, little gold skull motifs embroidered all over it. Now that scarf is possessed of magical qualities - sling it round my neck and out comes the dandy. Even my speech takes on a Leslie Thomas twang.

I don't really wear it now, the silk scarf moment is passed for the time being.

But in that one item I think there is something of the spirit of Alexander McQueen. A bit rebellious, a bit of rough, with a laddish edge and dose of wow factor. Just like its creator, assuming he had anything to do with it.

Tragedy rarely touches the world of fashion, unless you count some of the collections.

That's what makes the death of Alexander (Lee) McQUeen all the more shocking.

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