Notes from the Met

Carpet, Culture, and Conservative Co-Signs

Ok last night was the Met Gala I don’t really have a review because honestly I’m tired from staying up all night BUT I did make notes throughout the night:

Starting with the carpet because yes, even the floor was on theme this year. For those of you still gagging over the florals, know this: those daffodils weren’t just spring vibes, they were Dandy Daffodils, an actual nickname for them, and a cheeky nod to dandyism. The entire carpet was designed by Cy Gavin, a Black painter, and needle-punched into polyester like the girlies at your local expo center, only quoted per square meter. Capitalism meets couture, baby!

But not everyone understood the assignment. Grace and Wendi Murdoch showed up in Thom Browne couture which I found personally disrespectful. The Murdoch media empire is one of the reasons we’re all drowning in Trumpian sludge and DEI backlash. This year’s exhibit is literally about Black elegance and resistance, and you let the Murdochs in? Thom. Thommy. I need a word.

We did get an André Leon Talley tribute from Colman Domingo which felt moving, but also: where was the dramahe deserved? It’s giving “remembered,” not revered.

Teyana Taylor, though? Styled by Ruth E. Carter in Marc Jacobs, a power trio, and draped in a look that pulled from her own 2018 track “Rose in Harlem.” Long wallet chain included, referencing zoot suits, which, shoutout to history, were worn by Black and Latino youth as a fashion rebellion before being demonized into “delinquent” uniforms. Zoot Suit Riots, 1943, Google it, babes.

Speaking of zoots: Willy Chavarria brought the Pachuca heat. There was color. Story. Soul. An actual narrative on fabric. Meanwhile, some white people looked absolutely petrified to dress up. Let’s call it “the White Panic aesthetic.”

Speaking of White Panic…..Anna Wintour had a stain on her dress. Make of that what you will.

Pharrell’s wife was giving full bodysuit baddie in some… unfortunate LV leggings. And so was Lisa. Both looked like the Louis Vuitton team hates women. Sabrina Carpenter confessed Pharrell told her she’s “too short for pants,” and honestly, the patriarchy leaps out. Pharrell’s jacket took 400 hours and 15,000 pearls to make, and yet…. somehow… it’s the leggings we’ll never forget (or forgive). Was that Rosa Parks on Lisa’s panties?! Pharrell, I fear for you.

Lewis Hamilton, dressed by Wales Bonner, was poetry in motion. Literal poetry, if you read the stylist’s notes about cowries, amulets, and ancestral drip. Ivory for purity, cowries for status, garnet-colored diamonds like a wink from your great-grandmother in a dream. He ate.

Isha Ambani came for the movie nerds with the Cartier Toussaint Diamond Necklace from Ocean’s 8. ( the necklace in the movie was based on her’s )

Meanwhile, Zendaya said Mahogany who? with a Diana Ross fantasy and walked right behind Miss Ross herself, who had her entire family tree stitched into her train.

Accessory shoutouts: Doechii’s LV scar (serve), Whitney Peak’s cigarette nails (iconic), Ego Nwodim’s button nails (hello?!), and Jeremy O. Harris’s ring featuring himself (we love self-love).

Re. Doechii… why was she yelling at her team like THAT???

Gigi Hadid did a Josephine Baker tribute in Miu Miu and honestly? Not mad at it. Subtle, smart, effective.

Bad Bunny in Prada? A perfect 10. Especially when you realize the pava, that straw hat, is a traditional Puerto Rican symbol. Custom-made. Culture-forward. ¡Vamos!

Megan Thee Stallion… sigh. Still waiting for her to stop disappointing me at these things. ( the homage to Josephine Baker’s hair is noted tho )

Jeremy Pope showed up in the iconic Martin Margiela bodice from AW97. That’s fashion history on a torso. Lizzo went full Cab Calloway swing mode and I lived.

And then Shakira?? Dipped into Beyoncé’s Pink Panther era and allegedly wore a replica of the Pink Panther diamond from the original movie. Camp. Cinematic. Confusing. But I was into it.

Jeremy O. Harris wore Balmain, channeling Black jockey legend James Winkfield. We love a history lesson in a tux.

Amelia Gray wore a durag. Which was a CHOP. Capital C. No nuance. No discussion. What the actual f*ck. We have Alessandro Michele, Valentino and the team at META to thank for that assault of the senses. Gross. Disrespectful. Nobody clapped.

Nicki Minaj, styled by Law Roach, gave us the “quaintrelle” a woman who lives through beauty, leisure, style, charm. In other words: she came dressed as herself.

Sha’Carri Richardson told us she was in Valentino “by Ale Santos” and I burst into tears.

Myha’la in Luar was a vision. 10/10. No crumbs.

Nicole Kidman’s pixie wig? A cultural reset. Loved it. Needed it.

And Vulture, messy as ever, posted Derek Blasberg’s red carpet arrival with a caption referencing him allegedly shitting the bed at Gwyneth Paltrow’s house. It’s giving Gossip Girl via septic tank. Perfect ending to a perfect night.