Dedicated to The Purple One

This afternoon I got on the train to head to work and it was all good. I emerged no more than 15 minutes later and my phone was buzzing.

“I’m sure you heard about Prince by now. I’m devastated,” was the first thing I saw flash across my phone. It was a text from my best friend.

I hadn’t heard.

Before I could fully respond my mother was calling.

I walked the rest of the way to work in a daze, realizing far too late that my mouth was partially open. I was legitimately shocked.

Death is so weird. It’s final and universal, but always such a fucking shock.

I’m shocked.

I’ve reached the age where I am beginning to realize and understand that neither I, nor the people that I love and look up to are immortal, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not floored by the sudden passing of Prince.

There are so many times where his art and influence has seeped into the interactions and memories with the people I love most.

The fashion moments were beyond, the music is timeless, and the impact is clearly colossal.

As the shock wears off, I’m focusing more on the legacy. Because that’s what it’s really all about at the end of the day.

None of us can hang on to life, it’s fleeting. But you can definitely make sure that people generations from now know who you are. Not because you’re so amazing, or worthy of praise, but because you made a true impact.

The legacy was so evident tonight as people from all over gathered  on a street in Brooklyn, home to Spike Lee’s ’40 Acres & a Mule studio. Summoned by a great in his respective industry to pay respects to another. I feel honored to have been there.

Today we lost a man that gave us all an explicit example of what it means to be comfortable, content and flawlessly who you are.

Along with the music, and style inspiration, it’s what I plan to take from him.

Rest in Peace, Purple One. Take a look at some of his most life-changing ensembles above.

 

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