Virgil Abloh Was a Powerful Bridge Between Rap and Luxury Fashion

Famed designer Virgil Abloh, who tragically passed away at the age of 41 on Sunday, said music was “his only peace of mind.” In 2016, he told The Guardian, “When the phone is off, I play my favorite songs really loud for myself,” and he predicted, “I’ll be DJing after I’m done designing or doing anything else.”

Many of us love music as much as Abloh expressed, but few are blessed to indulge in it between (or in the midst of) the many creative ventures he explored—nor do we get the chance to amplify the artists we love through our own passions. In addition to his pursuits as a designer, Abloh worked hand in hand with a who’s who of rap, even designing album covers and directing music videos for artists like Kanye, ASAP Rocky, and Pop Smoke, among many others.

Rappers have a long history of dropping the names of luxury brands as status symbols, but Abloh was the rare high-fashion designer who loved hip-hop as much as the game loved him. There have been artists who sold enough records or caused enough cultural commotion for the average Louis Vuitton, Gucci, or Givenchy director to get a whiff of them and send an invitation to sit at a Fashion Week show. But Virgil listened to rap while creating his collections, and he was on the ground enough to participate in the come-ups of artists like Pop Smoke and Octavian. Rap was an integral part of his process, not an afterthought.

Virgil, like the rappers he loved, was using his gifts to infiltrate the establishment.

The Chicago native has said that he started DJing in 1998, and was inspired by turntablists such as “his idol” A-Trak, as well as Roc Raida, Invisibl Skratch Piklz, and Mix Master Mike. He explored his passion for music even while ascending in the fashion world after interning at Fendi in 2009 (alongside his close friend Kanye West). His proximity to Kanye helped lead to other relationships in rap, which he carried on as the founder of Off-White, creative director of Kanye’s creative agency DONDA, and later the artistic director of Louis Vuitton’s menswear.

Abloh told Highsnobiety, “I made my DJ career where I could fit in, and that was usually in a hip-hop club,” boasting about being one of “the first kids playing Travis Scott in a club that was selling bottles.” He did DJ sets all over the world, including opening for Travis during the 2017 Birds Eye View Tour and doing a set for fashion brand The Hundreds’ 10th Anniversary party. He did sets at major festivals, including 2018’s Camp Flog Gnaw and 2019’s Tomorrowland, and even got the honor of debuting the full version of his friend Kanye’s “Fade” during a November 2015 set in London. Drake complimented Virgil’s DJing skills during a 2018 Brooklyn performance, noting, “I thought this shit was like a party in the club, but shit is like a festival.”

He even had a creative relationship with Bromance Records, which existed from 2011 to 2017. There isn’t much online about his involvement, but he told The Guardian that he hoped for the label to retrace the steps of Def Jam. “You could argue that now more than ever in the history of club culture has there needed to be someone to step up and create a vibe,” he explained. “This is the cross international communication that’s on my record label: Bromance. To me it’s at the forefront, it feels like Def Jam.”

The Bromance mixes he put together with Guillaume Berg predominantly meshed house, techno, and other club sounds, but it’s telling that Abloh referenced a preeminent rap record label. Nightclubs are so often the cultural fulcrum of a metropolis’ “scene,” and Virgil had said that the “essence” of DJing is “living many lives and being in control of people’s nights.” Rap was a major part of his arsenal to do so all over the world.

The inspiration was reciprocated in the rap game. Iconic producer Pharrell called him a “creative genius.” Tyler, the Creator lauded him in a heartfelt Instagram post, calling him “a cheerleader for everyone” who “opened doors, lead [sic] people in and tossed the keys outside for the next person to have.” Tyler admitted, “Years back I started using more of my African last name Okonma because of how regal Virgil’s felt,” and added, “I wish I was able to see him see what his helping hand did for me.” Fellow multi-hyphenate Westside Gunn called Virgil “one of the biggest inspirations ever in my life,” and told Complex that his 2020 Fashion Week appearance at the LV menswear show inspired him to create Pray for Paris (an album whose artwork Virgil designed).

The kind words spoken about Virgil before and after his passing exemplify that he wasn’t merely a name attached to a trendy brand or an out-of-touch designer leeching off of popular artists. He was a creative force who cultivated relationships with the artists he inspired. While so many fashion designers are inaccesible to all but the rap elite, Virgil was famously responsive via DM, and would proactively reach out to artists of all kinds if he enjoyed their sound,

That love for music fed his own creative endeavors. His first foray into fashion, Pyrex Vision, was reportedly coined as a reference to the famous adage that drug dealing was one of the few ways poor people could “make it out” of their neighborhoods. That’s a conceit often parroted in nothing-to-something rap narratives, and Abloh set out to prove that dope fashion could do the same. His 2020 Louis Vuitton collection was created while listening to Griselda and Pop Smoke “front to back,” and he later invited each of them to sit in the front row because “he needed chains and diamonds in the front row.”

Rappers’ presence at his shows wasn’t just about the jewelry, though. Abloh’s journey in the high-fashion world paralleled artists’ own mission statements. After creating Off-White, he told Business Of Fashion in 2016 that “streetwear is seen as cheap. What my goal has been is to add an intellectual layer to it and make it credible.” In that same manner, many rappers aim to intellectualize their surroundings and vie to be seen as “credible” musicians in the eyes of skeptics.

He added, “I have to prove that this is design. I have to prove that this is art. I have to prove that this is valid.” Like it or not, the search for validation is at the heart of so many of our actions. That dynamic is reflected in the rap world, where Black artists fight every day against ol’ boys’ clubs, award committees, politicians, pundits, and music snobs to validate their artistry and existence. Virgil, like the rappers he loved, was using his gifts to infiltrate the establishment. They were proving a point—and sometimes they did so together.

Virgil ideated numerous album covers for rap superstars, including three of Kanye’s solo albums, the Kanye and Jay-Z collab album Watch the Throne, ASAP Rocky’s Long.Live.A$AP, 2 Chainz’s Based on a T.R.U. Story, and Lil Uzi Vert’s Luv Is Rage 2. He also directed the videos for ASAP Rocky’s “Fashion Killa,” Lil Uzi Vert’s, “XO Tour Llif3,” and Pop Smoke’s “Shake the Room.” He did the latter visual early last year while fighting cancer, and after doing two Paris Fashion Week shows, a testament to how much passion he had for his craft. One could quibble about the results of some of his work at another time, but right now, it’s the action that counts. As much as rappers shouted out Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, and prestigious members of fashion houses, those designers weren’t acknowledging rap as a whole, much less directing videos or designing album art. Virgil was.

One can parse the annals of rap to know which fashion brands were en vogue during a particular era. A song from ’95 will name-check different brands than a song from ’04, and so on. For most of the 2010s, Off-White was the brand du jour, whether artists were simply name-dropping or using Off-White and yellow tape as clever wordplay. Abloh’s work had become part of the modern rap zeitgeist, and he, in turn, amplified artists’ work through his DJing.

There have been plenty of beloved Black fashion designers, but few in the luxury fashion realm, which has long banked on Black people championing their supremacy without offering much in return. But over the past five years or so, through Virgil, the boasts didn’t feel as aspirational as they did an affirmatory stamp of one of their own. Virgil got the validation he was seeking from the people who counted. And in turn, he offered his access and creative eye to their endeavors. Virgil didn’t just celebrate rap from afar, but amidst its creators.