For a Met Gala theme as historic as this year’s, the first Monday in May’s procession of celebs was a sea of monochromatic tones and surprisingly conservative attire. The evening’s theme “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style” centered on Black dandyism — its origins, evolutions, and enduring relevance and influence — while the gala dress code, “Tailored for You,” tapped into goers’ own tastes. This, Vogue forecasted, was “sure to bring out the sartorial creativity of this year’s attendees.”
The annual benefit has transformed from a socialites-only evening in the 1940s to a modern-day media spectacle, as viewers’ expectations have heightened, placing more and more pressure on celebrities to out-do ensembles of years past. The changing scope and complexity of attendee outfits throughout the decades only reaffirm this. Though after last night, we’re left with one question: For a Met Gala theme so heavily centered on the possibilities of personal style, why was there so much repetition?
Celebrities brought an abundance of simple, neutral-toned suiting and craftsmanship to the Met Gala carpet, with little else to offer. Sydney Sweeney donned an intricate beaded gown, but missed the mark and imagination intrinsic to the theme. Kendall Jenner’s grey suit and floor-length skirt — inspired by Gladys Bentley and the women of the Harlem Renaissance — was sharp but still felt a bit unclear in its translation of the ‘20s. Pantless suits looked more lazy than subversive and took “tailoring” quite literally, leaving us wanting so much more, from allusions to wartime Zoot suits to cultural fusion. Such celebrity looks may have made nods to the past, but could have built off it more effectively through vibrant colors, material, and ornamental excess. The extravagance that defines the dandy was all but present; its absence, instead, in the spotlight.
Perhaps the most politically-charged (and -timed) Met Gala of recent years, this was certainly the last at which attendees should play it safe. We expected talent to tap into the theme’s rich history and emphasis on one’s own taste, but the aforementioned looks struck us as tame, apolitical, and even a bit poorly researched. There was, of course, a lot of potential for offensive looks, and some attendees did tread that territory. But it seems that, at least in part, the fear of offending held back creativity and expression. Proceeding with caution out of fear is not the smartest route, especially when the ability to dive deep into sartorial research lies within reach.
The term “dandy” dates back to the 18th century, in reference to self-made, typically young European men who were attuned to style and intellectualism, despite their middle-class standing. However, dandyism exists across many eras. For enslaved Black dandies, fine dress showcased their owners’ wealth, but transformed into an avenue for those oppressed to find agency. Throughout the 20th century, writers, thinkers, and musicians like James Baldwin, Langston Hughes, and Duke Ellington redefined dandyism through writing, ideology, and attire. Today, dandyism celebrates the art of tailoring and ornamentalism, while paying tribute to dandies and aesthetes of the past.
And whether due to fear of appropriation, misinterpretation, or plain uncertainty as to how to approach the theme as a non-Black attendee, many of the looks last night felt like missed opportunities to pay homage to such predecessors, and were all around quite conservative.
