Many nicknames.

Many, many suits.

Only one Frank Taylor Wright.

Wright, the sharpest-dressed man on Franklin Street, known for his resplendent suits in all colors, died Monday.

He was 90.

He is to be buried this morning after a service at Jones Funeral Home at 10 a.m. -- in a bright red and black suit.

Last week those who remembered seeing him dressed to the nines on the town's main drag said Chapel Hill had lost an icon, and a piece of its history. Wright was on Franklin Street almost every day, always impeccably outfitted in one of his brilliant-hued suits and matching hat, tie, shoes, socks and umbrella.

Designer and Chapel Hill native Alexander Julian recalled Wright as being "totally comfortable in what he put on. That's what style is, being able to wear things like that with some ease and grace."

Julian said Wright's sense of style put him in the same category with Fred Astaire, Cary Grant and Cab Calloway.

Wright clearly dressed for himself, Julian said. "The key word to Mr. Wright's style was the word "exuberance."

"The number of people that he touched and made smile and made their day better by his unbridled enthusiasm for getting dressed, it was a gift," he added.

When photographer Artie Dixon saw Wright for the first time, she knew immediately what she wanted to do.

But Wright himself took a little convincing.

Dixon decided Wright would make a great subject for a photo essay. With backing from Julian and the Orange County Arts Commission, she embarked on the project.

She picked him up one day to bring him to her studio.

He wore a purple suit that day, she recalls.

"I'm not sure that he wanted to be photographed anywhere but on the street," she said.

But soon Wright became more comfortable as Dixon snapped large-format photos of Wright in each of his suits.

Often she posed him in a chair coordinated to match his attire.

While he posed for one of her favorite images, Dixon remembered, "his head went back a little bit, and he actually fell asleep."

Dixon chose to print her photos in a large 3-foot-by-4-foot format "because I felt that he was larger than life," she said. "And I wanted every thread to be seen."

The show's title: "The Suitable Mr. (W)right.

"He unwittingly became a performance artist," Dixon said.

But that wasn't his motivation, she thinks. "He did the thing that came naturally to him."

"He found a great joy in getting up and doing what he called brushing and shining himself."

Wright's reputation for snazzy dress extended far beyond Franklin Street.

"My parents from Canada love him," said Sherril Koroluk, who works at the Preservation Society of Chapel Hill. "It's one of the things they love about coming to Chapel Hill, is to see if they can spot Mr. Wright on Franklin Street."

Lately, Koroluk said, she had seen Wright walking in University Mall. She said he'd been looking frail.

"I think everybody in Chapel Hill knows who he is," Koroluk said. "It's so sad."

Wright was born in Orange County, his family thinks. Dixon remembers taking him to the site of his grandmother's farm, where he grew up. He cried, she recalls, remembering his childhood.

For a while he worked as a cook at Lenoir Dining Hall on campus, said Sheri Edwards, wife of Wright's grandson Larry Edwards.

Dixon said he told her he'd done odd jobs, and would point out houses across town where he'd worked. He told her he hadn't gone to school past the sixth grade, she said.

Wright lived with Sheri and Larry in Durham for the last 13 years of his life. His only child, a daughter, had died.

"He said he wanted to stay with us for a week, and it ended up being 13 years," Sheri Edwards said. "And we just kind of kept him, and he ended up being part of our family."

She estimated that Wright owned more than 100 suits. "Jam packed in regular closets, moveable closets, everywhere."

Every evening when he returned from his promenade, Wright would lay out his outfit for the next day.

Being seen on Franklin Street was the driving force in his life, Sheri Edwards said.

"He would say to me several times when he wasn't feeling well, he would say, 'I have to go,'" she said. "It gave him something to live for, really."

In 2000, Wright told a reporter "I enjoy myself every day ... And I dress up like this every day. See this tie? I don't take it off to cook. I'll hang the jacket up, but I'll keep the rest on and cook you up a good meal, yes sir; potato salad, vegetables, beans, and never once get a spot on my clothes."

At the time, Larry Edwards leaned over and said, "He's not kidding. I have seen him fish wearing a suit."

Wright bought many of his outfits from a Hillsborough shop called Greater Looks, where manager Billy Poole remembered him as a loyal customer.

Wright was in just before Christmas to order a new suit, Poole said.

"This time he was a little conservative," he said. "It kind of caught me off guard. It's navy blue with a light blue pinstripe."

Wright never picked it up.

Dixon kept in touch with Wright after the photo shoots and sometimes took him shopping. She said Wright had never been embittered by the hardship in his life.

"I feel that Mr. Wright embodied a very simple joy in living that was based on a very simple way of life that had nothing to do with money or position," she said. "And that is what made Mr. Wright very special for me."