Sep 7, 2018 · 1 min read
As a fan, I have always loved Bill Cunningham’s photography and his unerring eye for composition. He could tell the most compelling stories with his camera, and yet I had no idea he suffered so much just to be who he was. I once saw a documentary about him and his recollections of decades in the fashion industry were sprinkled with hope, joy, and his love of beautiful clothes. He never shared how bleak and cruel his childhood was and reading this exquisitely composed but emotionally painful account left me choking with sadness. His talent and spirit will be missed.