About a week ago on Thursday, I came back to my room at around 6pm after a long day of classes, during which I had intentionally deprived myself of both internet and my cell in an attempt to focus more on lectures. As I was going through my blog feed to wind down the stress of the hectic day, I was shocked by the words I saw in every single feed.
First came denial; I thought of the news as just another buzz of idle gossip on the web. But then again, the news had spread in the morning and it would have already burst if it was a bubble. I threw a glimpse at the magazine editorial featuring the red-feather-fronted it-dress of fall 2008, a precious inspiration which I put up on my wall at the beginning of the term. And I felt empty as I thought of the creator of that exquisitely sweet dress, and many others. I didn’t want to believe Alexander McQueen was dead.

