They were purple and silver, high-waist, with diagonal black shiny buttons. I had them made for me by the partner of the woman who owned Amelia Earhart. They fit me like a glove. I haven’t worn them for a long time and when I tried to put them on recently, I could barely squeeze into them. So off they went into the Oasis bin, for someone else to enjoy them.
My Prince pants were made in the 1980s, a little after “Purple Rain” came out. I remember going to the movies to see it. I was thrilled with it, even though I knew it wasn’t a great movie. It had great music. Prince was unlike anyone else – well, maybe a bit like Little Richard with Hendrix’s guitar virtuosity. Full of life. Fun.
Marsha Lederman wrote an appreciation in the Globe and Mail that rang so true. He was The Artist Formerly Known as Prince. Entitled to be eccentric because of his talent and artistry. Sad to think he died alone, but we all do even if others are around us.
Nothing compares 2 him.