For Those Who Never Wanted to Fit In: A Love Letter to Bob Mackie

In December of 2024, I walked into Arsenal Tattoo shop in Bryan, Texas for a consultation with the great Audrey Tate. For several years, I had wanted a tattoo of my all-time favorite diva, Cher. And I knew exactly what I needed, in honor of one of her boldest moments, a rendering of her 1986 Oscar revenge dress, designed by none other than the legendary Bob Mackie.

Tattoo by Audrey Tate.

Bob Mackie died earlier this week at the age of 87. While I was sad to learn of his passing, I was more so struck by how much joy I felt that he ever existed in the first place. I’ve been reflecting a lot lately on joy, specifically on prioritizing joy. There is so much grief in our world, and uncertainty, and fear, and distrust. I hear it everywhere I go, conversations inundated with the latest upsetting news story, or lament, and I can feel it making a home in my body.

So, in an act of resistance, I am focusing on something that has contributed to a constant stream of joy throughout my life, or rather, someone, Bob Mackie. If you don’t know Bob Mackie by name, you’ve seen his work. From his long list of muses, award shows, and television specials, he has dressed icons such as Judy Garland, Lucille Ball, Doris Day, Diana Ross, Carol Burnett, Barbra Streisand, Bernadette Peters, Tina Turner, Bette Midler, Elton John, Rupaul, Angela Lansbury, and perhaps his most well-known collaborator, my girl, Cher.

Some of Bob’s earlier work includes the rendering for Marilyn Monroe’s infamous “Happy Birthday, Mr. President” look in 1962, which he drew at the young age of 23. A few years later, he was hired to design all the costumes for the Carol Burnett Show. The titular star stated that Bob designed as many as 60-70 looks a week. He did this for eleven years, creating countless masterpieces, such as his curtain rod dress for a Gone with the Wind sketch, a piece that is now part of the Smithsonian Museum of American History’s collection. 

When Bob Mackie first began designing for The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour, little to no budget existed for costuming. So, for the first several episodes, Bob Mackie designed a single white dress for Cher that he transformed every week into something new. He promised Cher that, if the show got picked up, she would see millions of beads. Soon, Cher would be revealing his creations with her signature clap. And for years to come, he would shine in so many ways for so many people.

It might seem a bit odd for this pastor to be writing about a recently departed costume designer for a Midweek Message, but I want to return to my point about joy. We need more joy. And during so many dark moments in life, Bob Mackie has been an absolute joy for me. As a queer teenager growing up in College Station, it felt like the world wanted me to hide, to be invisible. But I liked shining in unconventional ways, and it was Bob Mackie who inspired me to shine even brighter. How could anyone stay invisible under those circumstances? I didn’t fit in, and I realized I liked it that way, because I belonged to myself. If anyone commented on my clothes being too outlandish, my response was, “And it’ll be worse tomorrow because you said that.” It was empowering.

Teenage Pastor Brooke

Bob Mackie made me realize that I could be simultaneously stunning and hilarious, and I’m allowed to take up space in such an audacious way. Cher’s dress at the 1986 Oscars was a statement to those who said she didn’t know how to be a serious actress, and her ferocity and elegance were the last thing anyone expected to see at that ceremony. She was on the cover of every newspaper by the next morning.

As the late prophetess, Dolly Parton, once said, “Figure out who you are and do it on purpose.” Check yourself out in the mirror and walk out of your home every day telling yourself that you like what you saw, and no one gets to take that from you. That’s joy.