André Leon Talley: A fashion legend because of his NC roots

As a boy growing up in Durham André Leon Talley was mesmerized by his grandmother’s palpable elegance. The seeds sown during his childhood in the segregated South, and the relentless pomp of the Southern Black Baptist church, forged a path that led Talley to the throne of fashion’s hall of fame before his death Jan. 18.

Neither racism, nor rocks once thrown at him by Duke students whose dormitories his great-grandmother cleaned, were weapons precise enough to puncture the fantasy that fashion provided Talley or graze the protection that his wardrobe, which he often called “armor,” provided.

Though North Carolina wasn’t always kind to Talley, hailing from this state blessed him with distinct perspectives he wouldn’t have had otherwise. Never was he afraid to pay homage to his humble beginnings or to the way the streets of Durham enabled him with an unparalleled level of fashion taste.

And while only last year did North Carolina award him one of the state’s highest civilian honors — the North Carolina Award for his work in literature — it is undeniable that Talley made the state’s star shine far brighter.

He will forever be the blueprint for the dream of working in fashion for other young Black boys like me who were obsessed with clothes. To me, Talley is the epitome of “you can do it too.”

Lessons from honoring both fearlessness and Blackness as the core of style carried Talley through his studies at North Carolina Central University and Brown University. They created a necessity for fashion and an ardent love of it so deep in his being that it can only be described as metaphysical.

The South’s — and Durham’s — rejection of Talley’s predilection for the chic, unleashed in him an ability to proclaim the beauty of Blackness in a manner so saturated, so vivid, that from the moment he seized fashion to be his, it was clear that even the word fashion would be forever changed.

Though at first Talley bowed to fashion, fashion will forever bow to him.

Talley’s writing from his days at Interview magazine, Women’s Wear Daily, Ebony and Vogue set him apart from today’s fashion journalists. It was evident that Talley’s editorial imagery at Vogue and Vanity Fair was not afraid to ask the questions that his peers so obviously fled from in terror. The socio-cultural cognizance and defiance of Talley pieces beloved by fashion’s geeks, such as “Scarlett in the Hood” for Vanity Fair in 1996, are timeless in that they afford fashion a much needed academic sincerity and credibility.

Fashion icons like Talley cannot, and should not, be imitated. His phenomenal writing and editorial work belong to the wondrous mind of a Black man who began as a little Black boy in Durham fixated with church ladies hats and glossy fashion magazines.

Though he was a fashion scholar in his own right, and a true witness to moments in style so huge that they are now mythic, Talley is certainly fashion and fashion history’s principal character. There is no question that his talents and natural dynamism will be missed.

Morris is a third-year student at UNC-Chapel Hill. He is Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Officer at the Daily Tar Heel.