Richard Blackwell -- known to the world simply as Mr. Blackwell -- has died at the age of 86. Born Richard Selzer in Brooklyn, he took advantage of the endless possibilities for re-invention offered by the entertainment industry and became an icon in that time-honored way: finding a job that needed doing, and becoming the person who did it. Catty, witty, sensitive, and often brutal, he single-handedly invented the role of celebrity fashion critic and honed it to perfection decades before the internet and cable TV's endless Hollywood navel-gazing made it a common pursuit.
After a minor and unsuccessful stint as an actor on Broadway (where he briefly played, of all things, the leader of the Dead End Kids, a part made famous by Huntz Hall), he began working as a fashion designer. He later claimed to have pioneered the concept of designer jeans, but while his New York shop developed a small but loyal clientele, it wasn't until 1960 that he made a name for himself not by the praise he recieved for his own designs, but by complaining about what he saw as a trend towards absurd, overblown and unflattering fashions on the starlets of the day. Within a decade, he'd established himself as the country's foremost fashion critic, particularly when it came to the gowns sported by starlets at awards shows. His annual "Worst Dressed List" became, for some, an event to be anticipated as hotly as the Oscars or the Emmys.
Though Mr. Blackwell's pun-filled, sarcastic assessments were usually aimed at the people wearing hideous fashions, he was quick to recognize that it wasn't really their fault. Being a fan of Hollywood high fashion, and often on friendly terms with some of the celebrities he skewered, he was of two minds about his reputation as the bitchiest man in showbiz, and was insistent that he never meant to attack people -- only their clothes. "The job of fashion designers is to dress and enhance women, to make their beauty more evident," he told reporters early in his career. "Maybe I should have named the ten worst designers instead of blaming the women who wear their clothes." Had he done so, though, he might not have become famous for his acid comments, nor might he have become a gay icon in an era that had precious few of them. In the 21st century, the overwhelming force of media saturation has given us hundreds of witless wannabes who will crack none-too-wise about other peoples' fashion choices, but Mr. Blackwell will always be the first, and, informed by his own background and his genuine appreciation of the people he mocked, he will likely always be the best.
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