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.
I Married My Father’s Friend – I Was Stunned When I Saw What He Started Doing on Our Wedding Night
I Married My Father’s Friend – I Was Stunned When I Saw What He Started Doing on Our Wedding Night
Amber had given up on love but sparks fly when she meets her father’s old friend, Steve, at a BBQ. As their whirlwind romance leads to marriage, everything seems perfect. But on their wedding night, Amber discovers Steve has an unsettling secret that changes everything.
I pulled up to my parents’ house and stared at the line of cars parked across the lawn.
“What’s this all about?” I muttered, already bracing myself for whatever family surprise was waiting inside.
A woman in her car | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed my purse, locked the car, and headed toward the house, hoping it was nothing too chaotic.
As soon as I opened the door, the smell of grilled meat hit me, along with the sound of my dad’s booming laugh. I walked into the living room and peeked out the back window.
Of course, Dad was hosting some kind of impromptu BBQ. The whole backyard was filled with people, most of them from his auto repair shop.
People at a BBQ | Source: Pexels
“Amber!” Dad’s voice cut through my thoughts as he flipped a burger with that same apron he’s had for years. “C’mon, grab a drink and join us. It’s just the guys from work.”
I tried not to groan. “Looks like the whole town’s here,” I mumbled, slipping off my shoes.
Before I could join in the familiar, chaotic atmosphere, the doorbell rang. Dad tossed the spatula down and wiped his hands on his apron.
A man walking into a house | Source: Midjourney
“That must be Steve,” he said, almost to himself. He glanced at me as he reached for the doorknob. “You haven’t met him yet, right?”
Before I could even answer, Dad had already flung the door open.
“Steve!” he boomed, giving the guy a solid clap on the back. “Come on in, you’re just in time. Oh, and meet my daughter, Amber.”
I looked up, and my heart skipped a beat.
A man standing on a doorstep | Source: Midjourney
Steve was tall and a little rough around the edges in a ruggedly handsome way, with graying hair and eyes that somehow managed to be both warm and deep. He smiled at me, and I felt this strange flutter in my chest that I wasn’t prepared for.
“Nice to meet you, Amber,” he said, offering his hand.
His voice was calm and steady. I shook his hand, a little self-conscious about how I must look after driving for hours.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
A woman | Source: Midjourney
From that point on, I couldn’t stop glancing at him. He was the kind of man who made everyone around him comfortable, always listening more than talking. I tried to focus on the conversations around me, but every time our eyes met, I felt this pull.
It was ridiculous. I hadn’t even been thinking about love or relationships for ages. Not after everything I’d been through.
I’d pretty much given up on finding “the one” and was more focused on work and family. But something about Steve made me want to reconsider, even though I wasn’t ready to admit it.
A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney
As the day wound down, I finally said my goodbyes and headed to my car. Of course, when I tried to start it, the engine sputtered and died.
“Great,” I groaned, slumping back in my seat. I considered going back inside to ask Dad for help, but before I could, there was a knock on my window.
It was Steve.
“Car trouble?” he asked, smiling as if this kind of thing happened every day.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
I sighed. “Yeah, it’s not starting. I was just going to get my dad, but…”
“Don’t worry about it. Let me take a look,” he offered, already rolling up his sleeves.
I watched him work, his hands moving with practiced ease. Within a few minutes, my car roared back to life. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath until I exhaled.
A car engine | Source: Pexels
“There you go,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Should be good now.”
I smiled, genuinely grateful. “Thanks, Steve. I guess I owe you one.”
He shrugged and gave me a look that made my stomach flip. “How about dinner? We can call it even.”
I froze for a second. Dinner? Was he asking me out?
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
I felt that familiar flicker of doubt, the little voice in the back of my head reminding me of all the reasons I shouldn’t say yes. But something in Steve’s eyes made me want to take the chance.
“Yeah, dinner sounds good.”
And just like that, I agreed. I never would’ve imagined then that Steve was exactly the man I needed to heal my wounded heart… or how deeply he’d hurt me, either.
A woman | Source: Midjourney
Six months later, I stood in front of the mirror in my childhood bedroom, staring at myself in a wedding dress. It was surreal, honestly. After everything I’d been through, I didn’t think this day would ever come.
I was 39 years old, and I’d given up on the whole fairy tale, but here I was — about to marry Steve.
The wedding was small, just close family and a few friends, exactly what we wanted.
A wedding venue | Source: Pexels
I remember standing at the altar, looking into Steve’s eyes, and feeling this overwhelming sense of calm. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t second-guessing anything.
“I do,” I whispered, barely able to keep the tears from spilling over.
“I do,” Steve said back, his voice thick with emotion.
And just like that, we were husband and wife.
A newlywed couple | Source: Pexels
That night, after all the congratulations and hugs, we finally got some alone time. Steve’s house, our house now, was quiet, the rooms still unfamiliar to me. I slipped into the bathroom to change into something more comfortable, my heart full and light.
But the minute I slipped back into the bedroom, I was greeted by a shocking sight.
Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me, talking softly to someone… a someone who wasn’t there!
A man speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
My heart skipped a beat.
“I wanted you to see this, Stace. Today was perfect… I just wish you could’ve been here.” His voice was soft, full of emotion.
I stood frozen in the doorway, trying to make sense of what I was hearing.
“Steve?” My voice sounded small, unsure.
He turned around slowly, guilt flickering across his face.
A startled man | Source: Midjourney
“Amber, I—”
I stepped closer, the air between us thick with unspoken words. “Who… who were you talking to?”
He took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping. “I was talking to Stacy. My daughter.”
I stared at him, the weight of his words slowly sinking in. He’d told me he’d had a daughter. I knew she had died. But I didn’t know about… this.
A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney
“She died in a car accident, with her mom,” he continued, his voice strained. “But sometimes I talk to her. I know it sounds crazy, but I just… I feel like she’s still here with me. Especially today. I wanted her to know about you. I wanted her to see how happy I am.”
I didn’t know what to say. My chest felt tight and I couldn’t quite catch my breath. Steve’s grief was raw, a living thing between us, and it made everything feel heavy.
But I didn’t feel scared. I didn’t feel angry. Just… so sad. Sad for him, for everything he’d lost, and the way he’d been carrying it all alone. His grief hurt me as though it were my own.
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