Prince of Pop, King of Style: An Ode to a Legend

He approached fashion in a way I’d never seen before, mixing the feminine with the masculine in an unprecedented way, in an eye patch or a crystal embellishment — or a Speedo paired with a choker and eyeliner. Then there were his signature bandannas, often worn with catsuits, bell-bottoms, or crop tops and cutout leggings. Even when he was butt naked, with his tiny, lithe waist, there was a stylish flair to the way he wore his birthday suit.

But I think what fascinated me most was his own fascination — and appropriation — of women’s shoes. Prince made high heels and, later, Cuban heels his sneakers. It was the shoe he was most comfortable in, the shoe he lived in, the shoe that defined him. There was something regal (naturally) about the way Prince wore his heels. It was more Jimi Hendrix meets Louis XIV than RuPaul. In an interview, Prince explained that “people say I’m wearing heels because I’m short. I wear heels because the women like ’em.” And he was right. In his heels, he was a lady-killer, luring the likes of Apollonia, Vanity, Sheila E., and his ex-wife Mayte. He not only dated them — he helped craft their style and public image.

The mystery and allure of Prince’s style has never escaped me. When a friend of mine moved to Minneapolis to work for Target, I would occasionally ask him if he ever got invited to Paisley Park (he never did), because in my mind that was the nerve center of all that is Prince. It was his recording studio and his home, but, most important, it’s whe-re he kept his famous wardrobe. Legend had it that there was an army of designers and seamstresses (10 to be exact) who worked around the clock making Prince’s wardrobe and that there were vaults of the world’s most luxurious heels, which were locked up nightly. Allegedly, he would sometimes borrow or share shoes with Mayte too, though they didn’t wear the same size (Prince supposedly wore a women’s size 6). 

I have no idea if any of that was true, but I do know this: Prince continued to dazzle and delight with his sartorial confections until the very end (he performed in concert just days before his death). For those inevitable moments when I may feel a little less inspired, I will play a Prince song — and with the first twang of his guitar, everything will seem more colorful (purple, red, raspberry!) again.

He’ll be missed. 

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