Brooklyn's own Mr. Blackwell - known for his annual list of worst-dressed celebrities, a.k.a. the one list you didn't want to be on in Hollywood - went off into the great good night this weekend.
Né Richard Sylvan Selzer in a Bensonhurst tenement, Blackwell was a child actor, a fashion journalist, a designer and even an escort for a time before he found his niche: Wrist-slapping actresses who think empire-waisted dresses made of chartreuse leopard-print are a perfectly good idea. Imagine the angst involved in trying to dress for that funeral.
We'll miss you, Mr. B. The crown passes to his rightful heiresses, the reinas del Fugly, who owe the man a debt of gratitude. Meanwhile, check out Gawker's homage to his last 20 years.
Published at 1:13 AM EDT on Jul 18, 2009 | Updated at 9:33 AM EDT on Oct 21, 2008
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