The word “icon” gets tossed around too lightly, too quickly. This month the world lost a true fashion icon, and under unbelievably tragic circumstances.

This week it was confirmed that Alexander McQueen took his own life. He left behind a note, the contents of which are yet to be revealed. It’s hard to imagine the kind of psychic pain he must have been in, the kind of heartbreak he must have been feeling, to decide to end a life so full, so fabulous, so inspiring to so many.

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I was an Eighties baby but the last of the family. So many of my childhood memories are Seventies leftovers from my sister and brothers. And like so, so many black families around the world, the Jackson 5 were a part of our lives. I don’t recall exactly when my love affair began, but it may have been the first time I heard Who’s Loving You.

Oh, Michael.

Young Michael with the perfect afro, the unbelievable soaring voice, and enviable adult swagger so long before any of us sucked all meaning from the word.

Every Christmas we listened to the Jackson 5 Christmas Album. To this day, their version of Give Love on Christmas Day is as evocative of Christmas to me as is the crinkling of wrapping paper.

Oh, Michael.

He became a symbol of lust for so many, as he grew older. Seventies era bellas know all about it, when the Jackson 5 taught us dance moves that many try to replicate to this day — check them poppin and lockin with the late Dom DeLuise. Laying the foundation for Usher, Chris Brown, and Justin Timberlakes to come. They were Dancing Machines, Michael out front, amazing us all with his fluidity years before a white glove set him apart.

Oh, Michael. As he became a man, at first he put away childish things. Or at least he seemed to, with Off the Wall. That album is practically perfect, from the dazzling disco of Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough (OMG, what an iconic video), the heartache of She’s Out of My Life — believed to be a tribute to the late Minnie Riperton — the irresistable bump of Workin Day and Night, the insiduous slink of the title track, the effortless sex appeal of Rock With You. Girrrrrllll, close your eyes. Let that rhythm get into you.

Oh, Michael.

My favorite track from that album? It’s so hard to choose just one. But I Can’t Help It comes most immediately to mind. Just hearing that on the radio brought pinpricks of tears to my eyes yesterday. There’s something so wistful about his vocals on that track. Oh…. Michael.

OK, HOW big was Thriller in your life? Thriller was beyond humongous. Thriller was on constant rotation in my house for a year, it seemed. I’m partially responsible. I was old enough to get the LP onto the record player and choose my favorite tracks. I remember sitting in the living room by the stereo, gazing at the photo of Michael and the baby tiger and letting his voice wash over me.

The songs I listened to over and over again were Human Nature, PYT — oooh, that bassline! — Wanna Be Starting Something, and of course, OF COURSE, Billie Jean. And who doesn’t remember THIS moment?

Was that the moment the rest of the world fell in love with MJ? It may have been. He was on fire that night, in a way that so few artists ever are. Oh, they might think they match up, but they can’t hold a candle. Sparks seemed to surround him. And then he introduced the world to the moonwalk and honey, it was OVAH.

Oh, Michael. One performance and you changed the game forevermore.

Bad was a phenomenon in my life. I remember getting a pair of bright red overalls with Bad spraypainted across the front and feeling like the coolest little thang ever when I wore them. And the videos from Bad lit the world on fire, putting Michael Jackson at the forefront of the entertainment scene once again. As if he’d ever left. My parents raised an eyebrow at the sexual danger lurking in the video of The Way You Make Me Feel — it was the beginning of the “is Michael Jackson weird?” questions that swirled around him for the rest of his too-brief life. The rumors about the Elephant Man’s bones, the hyperbaric chamber, thetabloid nicknames, the beginnings of vitiligo and the apparent plastic surgery.

Still, the music came ahead of his image at the time. The dance moves in Smooth Criminal astounded us all. I cried at the video for Man in the Mirror. Another Part of Me was my favorite song.

More than anything, I wanted to go to a Michael Jackson concert. To experience that hysteria in person. The screaming crowds that seemed to reveal an almost religious fervor for the King of Pop. Maybe this was when fame began to become bitter poison.

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She’s been deceased for almost half a century now, but still the image of Marilyn Monroe looms large in Hollywood. She remains — and forever will be — the ultimate blond bombshell.

Generations of starlets who have probably never even sat through one of her films beginning to end claim her as their idol. Lilo might pose like her, Kim Kardashian might try to channel her spirit, and deluded Paris Hilton might claim herself to be this generation’s “iconic blond,” but none of them can hold a candle.

To commemorate the 25th anniversary of Vanity Fair, the secret files of Marilyn Monroe are being featured in print and online. If you’re an old Hollywood buff, it makes for fascinating reading. You get a sense of the woman behind the icon in the letters she wrote — she wrote letters to Arthur Miller’s children in the voice of Hugo, the family basset hound. Vanity Fair’s collection of materials is staggering in its scope.

Click here to browse through 586 artifacts, ranging from letters and telegrams to prescriptions and keepsakes — cookbooks, candleabras, the yellowed and darkened bottle of Chanel No. 5 found on her dresser.

If you’re as fascinated with old Hollywood glamor as I am, the best finds of all are the clothes — Marilyn had handbags to die for — and the jewelry. Diamonds were indeed her best friend, and so were jade, pearls, and gold. Here’s a slideshow for your viewing pleasure.

Love that elegant gold necklace!

I love vintage jewelry, and I’m obsessed with anything that brings to mind that old Hollywood glam. I just might need that necklace in my life.

Do you have a Marilyn Monroe fascination too?

This might seem a bit off topic and random, but I gotta get into some sadness I read on the celebrity blogs today. Apparently my childhood crush, Eldra “El” DeBarge, has been arrested. And the dude is now 5′9″ and 130 pounds. He was always lean, but that’s extra lean. The mugshot is heartbreaking. Oh, El. What happened?

It seems like it was just yesterday when I was listening to Love Me in a Special Way on my little tape player, and wishing you were singing to me. And who could forget the family’s appearance on Solid Gold? Not me! (At one time, Solid Gold was totally my favorite show. I thought Madame was the funniest thing ever).

Here’s hoping El can get it together. But it doesn’t look good, TMZ is reporting that he’s being held on outstanding warrants which include vandalism, drugs, and driving with a suspended license. No bail, so he’s stuck in jail. That’s a far cry from the heady days of 1986. Man, the downfall from fame can be so vicious.

This just makes me want to curl up and listen to All This Love. Won’t you join me?

Vibe Magazine has a great, very timely story on the rise and fall of the DeBarge family. A must-read, if you ever were a fan.

OK, I had a very long and very controversial post in the works, but I need more time to craft my words carefully, and also I gotta confess… last night I wound up going to a crazy party in Miami’s Design District. I must say, it really sets the tone for the evening when you walk in to a party to discover a practically naked Amanda Lepore, writhing with dudes in tighty-whities, being photographed from all sides. At times like that, all I can do is shake my head and say “oh, Miami.” This city is a trip. I digress.

So I had one too many appletinis and now I’m exhausted, and running late for a long day at work. But I couldn’t just let the day go by without posting something, so here’s a Friday teaser for an upcoming Lost One.

The history of reggae music is filled with joyous, meaningful music, and littered with heartbreaking gone-too-soon stories. One of the most tragic losses was that of Dennis Brown. This video clip is one of the biggest songs in reggae music, in my opinion. Holla if you hear me, Caribbean massive. If you haven’t ever heard it, do yourself a favor. This is Revolution.

If we wanna live forever, we gotta love each other. Happy Friday to one and all, and big things coming up next week!

Soak up the summertime and have a beautiful weekend, bellas and fellas!

He was so handsome, so incredibly talented. He had so much potential left, and a career that could have continued on for so much longer — if only. Who did it bigger or better than Marvin Gaye? I have a hard time thinking of any contemporary artist that’s even in his league.

Marvin Pentz Gay Jr. grew up in a very religious home. From all accounts, his father preached in a strict sect of the Seventh-day Adventist Church called the House of God, which blended Orthodox Judaism with Pentecostalism. Young Marvin sang in his father’s church, and played instruments in the choir.

After a brief stint in the Air Force (he was discharged for not following orders), he started a career at the fledgling Motown Records, changing his name to separate his identity from his father’s, and also in homage to Sam Cooke, who had also added an “e” on to his last name.

When Marvin Gaye first emerged, he sang in doo wop groups that had minor hits. He played drums on early Motown hits like Please Mr. Postman and Fingertips part 2, Stevie Wonder’s first hit. He co-wrote Dancing in the Street. He practically pleaded with record company execs to become a singer in his own right. Appropriately enough, his first solo hit was Stubborn Kind of Fellow.

His early successes were lovey-dovey dance songs performed to screaming fans, like Hitch Hike. In those days, the Motown singers were like a family. So many of Marvin Gaye’s earliest tracks feature backing vocals by the likes of The Supremes, Martha and the Vandellas, and The Temptations. Marvin’s good looks and smooth singing style made him a desirable duet partner, and he sang with many of Motown’s best. His collaborations with the stunningly beautiful Tammi Terrell stand among his most lasting hits. The Onion Song, Your Precious Love, and of course, Ain’t No Mountain High Enough — click there for an early music video with the two in their mid-Sixties heyday. Tammi was just amazing, beautiful and talented. In 1967, Marvin Gaye was performing on stage with her when she collapsed in his arms. She was later diagnosed with a brain tumor. Her health deteriorated as Motown released more of their hits, Ain’t Nothing Like the Real Thing, and You’re All I Need To Get By. She succumbed to the illness in 1970. They say Marvin Gaye never recovered from her death.

That was the beginning of a downward spiral that led to a great deal of introspection for Marvin Gaye.

His marriage to Anna Gordy was crumbling, and he felt frustrated by his musical expectations, singing silly love songs in the midst of personal turmoil and worldwide political upheaval. He recorded What’s Going On on June 1, 1970. Berry Gordy called it uncommercial, and refused to release it. Marvin Gaye refused to record any more songs until he did. And we all know how that ended.

What’s Going On became one of Marvin Gaye’s career highlights, and put him in an entirely new direction. He might not be considered the legend that he is, were it not for What’s Going On. It’s a song that is truly timeless and tragic. “Father, father; We don’t need to escalate. You see, war is not the answer, For only love can conquer hate.” As long as there is strife in the world, that song will never die. Same goes for Mercy Mercy Me, and Inner City Blues. Those songs will live forever, and they’re just as fresh today as they were thirty-odd years ago.

For the remainder of the decade, Marvin continued on as a hit making machine. Trouble Man, Let’s Get It On, his duets with Diana Ross — Stop, Look, Listen (To Your Heart). I Want You. Got To Give It Up In the Seventies, Marvin Gaye seemed unstoppable, and the variety of his lyrical and musical range inspired legions of artists to follow. But personal demons threatened to devour him whole. Divorce, drug addiction, depression, record label conflicts, and the taxman led Marvin to flee. By 1979 he was living in a bread van in Hawaii.

During his self-imposed exile, he moved to Europe and recorded In Our Lifetime?, an album that proved to be his last with Motown. From his new residence in Belgium, he signed with Columbia Records to release his final album, 1982’s Midnight Love, which spawned the hit “Sexual Healing.” Marvin Gaye’s last two big public performances were the National Anthem at the 1983 NBA All Star Game, and What’s Going On at the Motown 25 celebration in 1983. After that, he moved back into his parents house to get his head straight.

If you’ve seen the E True Hollywood Story, you already know. Marvin Gaye’s last year was filled with threats of suicide, premonitions of his death, and finally – one day before his forty-fifth birthday, he was murdered by his father, the Minister. They say it was an argument over misplaced business documents. His father was then discovered to have a brain tumor, and because of that, his charges were reduced from first-degree murder to five years probation. He lived out the rest of his years in a home, and died of pneumonia in 1998.

Marvin Gaye’s life was certainly cinematic, but there have been hurdles en route to making a Marvin Gaye biopic — many of which have to do with music licensing. Law & Order’s Jesse L. Martin will play a late-period Marvin in Lauren Goodman’s biopic, Sexual Healing, which reveals the last three tortured years of his life and uses the music from Marvin’s Columbia Records period.

This was a tough Lost One to write, because the circumstances of Marvin Gaye’s death make me almost angry. It makes me feel robbed. That such a great talent was snuffed out… over what? When I contemplate the overall picture of his life, such a feeling of loss washes over me. If only he’d kicked his habit and found true love, after singing so many songs about it. If only he didn’t go back to his parents’ house. If only the weight of his foreshadowing didn’t turn out to be so crushingly true. If only.

This video clip is an excerpt from Real Thing: In Performance 1964-1981.

Who are the successors to Marvin Gaye’s throne? Many lay claims, but few fit the bill. One artist who seems to be following his trajectory — both in the good and bad ways — is D’Angelo. He’s an incredibly talented gentleman who seems to be struggling to find his way, and I’m waiting with baited breath for his next album. (Really Love is really hot. What a great, soothing, summertime barbecue jam).

It’s been more than twenty years, and we still miss you, Marvin.