It is sad that Alexander McQueen took his own life, says Telegraph religion editor/Anglican priest George Pitcher. But there’s something he thinks that we’re ignoring while we focus on the tragedy of a man at the top of his field who could not overcome whatever sadness he found too painful to cope with: The fashion industry is bad, bad, bad. In fact, it’s
one of the least attractive legal activities on earth, populated by weirdo artists, freakish PRs and emaciated and mentally disordered models. To be even tangentially exposed to it is to enter a world of phoneys and airheads, mutually massaging the pointlessness of each other’s professional existence, self-regarding to a degree that would make Narcissus blush, committed only to ripping off a market made docile by cocaine, champagne and the odd canapé. Fashion is a chimera of a real industry, the absence of which would harm no one other than its self-serving catamites and courtesans. It is a disgusting place to make a living.
He adds, “I just thought I’d make that clear, because nobody else seems to have done so over the past couple of days.” Okay!