Phyllis Hyman was the undisputed Queen of the Night, a skyscraper-tall presence who didn’t just walk into a room—she reshaped the city’s skyline around her. She was the high-fashion pulse of the metropolitan center, starting with the shimmering, champagne-soaked allure of a Studio 54 dance floor and then pivoting, with a sharp and soulful turn, into the dim, neon-flicker of a rainy street corner where the sirens never stop screaming.
