Tuesday Morning Quarterbacking the Met Gala
What happened.
I need to preface this by saying I am possibly wrong and have no qualifications except a GQ internship and a grandmother who gave me a childhood obsession with critiquing clothes in the fanciest imaginable stores on Worth Avenue in Palm Beach. But I am a comedy writer with a newsletter, so here is my definitive review of The Met Gala.
This should have been an easy one not to fuck up. It’s the Aline Brosh-McKenna “florals for spring” line as a theme. The directive was basically: Look enchanted. Wear a magic dress and walk through a midnight garden into the mist. Don’t forget you’re next to priceless artifacts and these pictures will last forever. Have a nice time.
This is not to say “take no risks.” Risks are excellent if you can stick the landing. Here are some people who did just that, which is to say, this is my very short Best Dressed List. (Bess’d Dressed? No. I am so sorry.)
Rebecca Hall did it best (in Cool Girl Wedding Dress Designer Danielle Frankel). The arm adornment! The depth! Yes.
2. Ayo Edebiri as usual was objectively perfect. This is how you dress for The Met: Wearable art. Audible gasp of the night.
And, with the same stylist at the reigns (what is Loewe’s relationship with Danielle Goldberg?), Greta Lee did great in this sheer, sculptural, ethereal, architectural Loewe confection with dewey “You just woke me up from my meadow nap!” glam.
4. Penelope Cruz did the impossible job of upstaging the art. Brava, Chanel Couture, which usually looks so belabored but here just looks like a bride who got inked by an evil octopus on her way to the altar (complimentary).
Everyone I know who was there and whose work I respect, you also looked good.
Also important to give an honorable mention to Jennifer Lopez, who always looks incredible by sticking to the theme of “Jennifer Lopez: Jennifer Lopez.”
Also, for personal reasons, Josh O’Connor.
Everyone else: What happened? WHAT happened. Was there, to paraphrase Miranda Priestly once again, some kind of hideous [dress] convention? Here is a brief breakdown of what went wrong broken into a few basic categories without calling anybody out specifically because I would never do that:
CONSTRICTION
In a year when women are losing their bodily autonomy every time a Republican governor gets a call from the Heritage Foundation, there were a surprising number of people wearing objects that made them unable to climb stairs in dresses seemingly designed by Brett Kavanaugh. This is not good.
As a general rule: If you can’t walk or breathe in your dress, it is not a dress, it is a trap.
PAGEANT
Some wore over-architected strapless dresses that wouldn’t have looked out of place walking out on a Miss Teen USA stage.
Oh, it was custom [REDACTED]? Just because a fledgling Spanish luggage company got a billion-dollar-VC injection to make them THE ONLY DESIGNER during the pandemic doesn’t mean you can throw a drapey skirt on a boned bodice and call it revolutionary.
When you wear a prom dress to the Met Gala, you might as well vape in the Great Hall.
This is the Met Gala. Do better. Do more.
But not so much more that it becomes….
HAUT SPIRIT HALLOWEEN
Some people predictably went for “Haut Spirit Halloween,” which is fine if you are Helena Bonham Carter and commit to that lifestyle, otherwise you look like all your friends are lying to you over group chat.
“Ooooh spidery! Love it!” No. There’s a difference between having a sense of humor and looking insane.
Nobody looks back on their life from their deathbed and is glad they wore so much black lipstick.
GRATUITOUS GLOVES
Amal Clooney invented opera gloves at the Met Gala while Blake Lively was still in her traveling pants. Ever since then, the “put a glove on it” philosophy of fashion has been mainly indefensible. Nicole Kidman did it correctly last night by doing a bizarrely similar riff on Carey Mulligan’s technically flawless Oscars look. It was another archival Balenciaga creation, and if (ed note: my childhood friend) Andrew Mukamal wasn’t her stylist, too, he should absolutely sue for Breach of Ballgown.
JUST NAKED
Cher (apologies) bodied “Naked and Sparkly” in the 70s with Bob Mackie and since then it has been done correctly only a small handful of times.
In 2014, Lupita Nyong’o nailed it in shocking green Prada, which was genius because it was a play on a flapper dress which represented the casting off of Edwardian garments and allowing the female form to breathe. People were divided about the slip color at the time but I thought the whole thing was a big YES.
And then in 2015 Beyoncé ended the conversation with such outrageous elegance that should have been it forever.
Unfortunately, now everyone with a trainer and a high school understanding of FEMINISM! has decided that just being naked and sparkly makes sense for this night.
Remember when Phoebe Philo took back Yves Klein’s objectification of women by reclaiming his blue naked models as a print on her white dress for Celine in 2017? And then they put that dress in the COSTUME INSTITUTE? Learn from this. Don’t go as the body-painted model. Be the #OldCeline you want to see in the world.
Sorry to be a hundred-year-old prude about this, but it is what it is.
(Credit where credit is due: Kim Kardashian unfortunately did this brilliantly with the dripping Mugler from Camp Night, where she ran with the wet look so Doja Cat could one day sort of walk).
GIANT
Lots of people doing a belated attempt at camp by deciding that if they can’t look incredible, they might as well go for The Largest Amount of Dress.
Rihanna was the pioneer of this when she wore the giant (perfect) omelette for the triiiiiicky China-themed Met Gala, and now there seems to be the prevailing ethos of “If you don’t really know what you’re doing, do everything.”
Wearing the most fabric is certainly a statement of power and reclaiming space, but on some people it is simply bad manners. “Sorry I couldn’t talk to you, my headpiece was three feet tall and my train required six guys having a panic attack.”
Just because your dress is large does not mean it has the most powerful impact. If you are going to scream “LOOK AT ME” there better be a reason why.
Anyway here’s what I would have done:
If I were in a bad mood, this Elie Saab:
If I were in a good mood, this Giambatitsta Valli
If I were scared of being too “On Theme,” this Oscar de le Renta with a sliiiiightly longer slip because my children would see it:
What I actually wore: Maternity pajamas that are too big now.
This is the only fashion blog I need!!!
I would rather read your review over and over than have to see The Real Thing, the event itself, even once.
My question is, if in fact Kim K consented to the removal of her 11th and 12th ribs in order to better approximate the shape of cartoon character Betty Boop, where are those ribs now? How are they being used? As Kardashian Museum exhibits? Paper weights? Material for creation of another woman, Book of Genesis-style? Tell us, dammit!