We look back at the life of the founding father of street-style photography.

Mr Bill Cunningham was a reassuring presence. If he was there, then you were most definitely in the place to be. The much-loved photographer, who passed away on Saturday aged 87, had been an ever-present figure on New York’s fashion scene and its streets ever since WWII. He worked because he loved to, not because he had to, and he maintained his iconic weekly New York Times “On The Street” column and video series until near the end.

You could be forgiven for thinking that street-style photography only developed in the last few years thanks to Messrs Scott Schuman (aka The Sartorialist) and Tommy Ton. But decades before they came on the scene, Mr Cunningham was the OG visual documentarian, a cultural anthropologist who realised before anyone else that fashion mirrors its time. “Bill Cunningham is the granddad of all street style – he invented the genre,” says menswear icon Mr Nick Wooster, who was often the subject of his lens. Although Mr Cunningham was a front-row regular, literally rubbing shoulders with A-listers at catwalk shows, he preferred to let his viewfinder wander off the runway. “The best fashion show is on the street,” he said. “Always has been, always will be.”

To have your picture taken by him was to arrive, and Mr Cunningham had appreciative friends in influential places. Rihanna took to Instagram over the weekend to post a tribute to him to her 40.4 milllion followers. The editor of Vogue, Ms Anna Wintour, famously said “We all get dressed for Bill”. But he wanted people to dress expressly for themselves so that he could understand their style and record it. He often looked past the red carpet celebrities whom he suspected had been dressed by a stylist in free clothes. His lens was more egalitarian, his pages a true reflection of all walks of life. He once said: “When I’m photographing, I look for the personal style with which something is worn — sometimes even how an umbrella is carried or how a coat is held closed. At parties, it’s important to be almost invisible, to catch people when they’re oblivious to the camera — to get the intensity of their speech, the gestures of their hands. I’m interested in capturing a moment with animation and spirit.”

For someone who loved clothes so much, he hardly had any of his own. He wore the same trademark uniform in almost all weathers: a faded blue cotton French worker’s jacket and khaki chinos. And for someone who wanted to take himself out of the picture, he was all too easy to spot, pootling about on his trademark bicycle. (He went through more than 30 bikes in his career.) “Bill was a life force in the fashion industry,” says GQ’s creative director Mr Jim Moore. “His bicycle, blue jacket and camera belong in the Smithsonian museum.”

Despite humbly waving away attention, Mr Cunningham latterly became something of a reluctant celebrity himself. In 2009, the New York Landmarks Conservancy made him a living landmark; and in 2010, a documentary about him – Bill Cunningham New York – was released to critical acclaim. Mr Cunningham said he never saw it.

He did not go anywhere without his 35mm camera ever-ready around his neck. “That was one of the interesting things about Bill that made his style unique – unlike all the other street-style photographers, he shot with a 35mm or even a 28mm lens and that means you have to get right up close to the subject,” says WWD photographer Mr Kuba Dabrowski. “And his photographs were not composed – it was all documentary style. He was there to catch the moment, to catch the vibe.” His photographs were not filtered, Photoshopped or staged. They were a true and honest reflection of what he saw.

Although Mr Cunningham attended gala dinners every other night, he never ate at one of them. He was a loner who kept his distance from his subjects as well as other photographers. “He was a mystery to everyone. I'm not aware that he had any interaction with any of the other street photographers,” says Mr Scott Schuman. “But his influence is undoubted and his legacy will be that he doggedly documented his era and did so with a joy and vigour that one rarely sees in a jaded fashion world.”

For many, the lasting impression is Mr Cunningham’s crinkly, twinkly eyed smile and his undimmed zest for life. He loved what he did, and he did it every day until the end. “Whenever I encountered Mr Cunningham, he always made me think about what I truly valued; if I was living my life with integrity,” says Mr Michael Hainey, Esquire’s executive director of editorial. “I hope one part of Mr Cunningham’s legacy and influence will be this: a reminder to all of us to live our life with integrity; to let go of our ego; to live our life centered on the eternal values — kindness, decency, humility, and a deep joy and gratitude for the gift of life.”