Michael Jackson’s Friend ‘Knew the Real Reason’ He Wore Single White Glove on Right Hand
Michael Jackson’s single white glove became one of his most famous fashion choices during his career. According to actor Cicely Tyson, she knew the real reason why he wore it. Tyson shared that she had been aware of what motivated Jackson to make this iconic glove a part of his look.
Michael Jackson Wore His Famous White Glove to Hide a Skin Condition, Says Friend
Michael Jackson’s iconic white glove became a signature part of his look during his career. According to a friend, the glove was originally designed to hide signs of vitiligo, a condition that causes patches of skin to lose color. Jackson, who passed away in 2009, often wore the glove on his right hand.
Vitiligo affects the skin, especially on the face, neck, and hands, and is caused by a lack of melanin, the pigment that gives skin its color. It affects about 1 in every 100 people.
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Late actor Cicely Tyson, who knew Jackson, shared this detail about his glove during his 2009 memorial service.
A single white glove became a signature accessory for the late Michael Jackson throughout his career. The glove, often worn on his right hand, was part of his iconic style. It was originally created to help cover the effects of vitiligo, a skin condition that causes patches of skin to lose their color. Jackson, who passed away in 2009, used the glove to make a fashion statement while also concealing the condition. Vitiligo affects around 1 in 100 people and is caused by a lack of melanin, the pigment that gives skin its color.
Late actor Cicely Tyson talked about Michael Jackson’s famous white glove in 2009 after his death.
Cicely, known for movies like *Sounder* (1972) and the TV show *How to Get Away with Murder*, spoke to CNN’s Don Lemon in an interview. She mentioned that she and Michael shared the same fashion designer in the 1980s, who worked on creating the glove.
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Cicely remembered the designer saying, “I’m doing this glove for Michael,” explaining that Michael was starting to develop vitiligo, a skin condition, on his hand. She said, “The glove was to cover it. That’s how it came about.”
When asked how she knew, Cicely replied, “I was there when he was creating it.”
Michael first wore the white glove in 1983. He later said, “I felt that one glove was cool… wearing two gloves seemed ordinary.”
Michael Jackson talked about his skin condition during a 1993 interview with Oprah Winfrey, likely referring to vitiligo, a condition that runs in his family.
Oprah asked him about the noticeable change in his skin color and addressed rumors about him possibly bleaching his skin, asking, “Is your skin lighter because you don’t like being Black?”
Michael, unaware of skin bleaching, explained, “I have a skin disorder that destroys the pigmentation of the skin. It’s something I cannot help.” He added, “When people say I don’t want to be what I am, it hurts me.”
He mentioned that he first noticed his skin changing after releasing *Thriller* in 1982. Michael said he used makeup to manage the blotches but denied bleaching his skin.
Oprah later remarked that in 1993, many people didn’t understand vitiligo and noted that it was a sensitive topic for Michael.
My husband wanted a divorce because I couldn’t give him a son. What happened next changed our lives forever.
Marriage had always been a partnership of love and support, or at least that’s what I believed when Steve and I first tied the knot 16 years ago. Over time, we were blessed with five beautiful daughters, each one a joy and a challenge in her own way. Yet, in Steve’s eyes, our family lacked something crucial: a son.
Steve’s desire for a male heir became an obsession, overshadowing every happy moment we had. His traditional mindset dictated that a man’s legacy could only be carried on by a son, and our daughters, no matter how wonderful, were seen as inadequate. This belief had eaten away at the fabric of our marriage, turning our once joyous union into a battleground of unmet expectations and silent resentment.
Steve’s job kept him away most of the time, leaving me to juggle the responsibilities of raising our daughters, maintaining the household, and managing a part-time online job. His absence wasn’t just physical; it was emotional too. He was a shadow in our home, present yet distant, and his discontent seeped into every corner of our lives.
The Breaking Point
One late night, a seemingly innocent conversation spiraled into a full-blown argument. I had suggested trying one more time for a son, even though I was already forty. Steve’s response was brutal and laced with years of pent-up frustration.
“Shut up already,” he snapped. “We’ve been together for 16 years and you couldn’t bring me a son. What makes you think you will do it this time?”
I tried to reason with him, “But Steve, only God…”
“ONLY GOD DECIDED TO PUNISH ME WITH YOU AND ANOTHER 5 FEMALES,” he yelled, his face contorted with anger. “I wish I could go back in time and change everything.”
The venom in his words was palpable, and it stung more than any physical blow could. Our daughters, our life together, everything we had built was being torn down in this moment of raw emotion. Suddenly, we heard a noise behind the door. When we checked, there was no one there, and we dismissed it as the creaking of an old house. Little did we know, that sound was a harbinger of the events that would soon unfold.
The Missing Child
The next day, our lives took an unexpected turn. It was 6 pm, and Lisa, our 12-year-old, was always home by this time. Panic set in when she didn’t show up. As worry gnawed at us, Sara, our second-born, came running with tears streaming down her face, clutching a letter.
Steve snatched the letter from her hand and began reading. His face went ashen, his eyes widened with fear. He turned to me, his voice trembling, “This is serious.”
The letter was a ransom note. It claimed that Lisa had been kidnapped and demanded an exorbitant amount of money for her safe return. The instructions were clear: no police, no tricks, or we’d never see her again.
The Race Against Time
Our world was shattered. The next hours were a blur of frantic phone calls, desperate plans, and heart-wrenching decisions. Steve, usually stoic and composed, was a mess. His obsession with having a son seemed insignificant now compared to the possibility of losing his daughter.
The experience taught us that the value of family isn’t determined by gender but by the love, respect, and support we give each other. Steve learned to cherish his daughters and our marriage, realizing that true happiness comes from within and is nurtured by the bonds we share.
Our lives were forever changed by that harrowing experience, but it also brought us closer, forging a stronger, more resilient family. The past year had been incredibly tough, but it led to a new beginning, one where we could all be truly happy together.
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