what happened to the MET gala?

from a regular individual with very strong opinions

on the first monday of may since 2019, i’ve made a yearly tradition of sitting on my couch alone in my pajamas, ordering Taco Bell, and live-tweeting the year’s biggest night in fashion: the MET gala.

to be completely clear, i have almost zero background in fashion and can be found wearing the same black leggings and ironic t-shirt basically every day, so my opinions are far from gospel.

editor’s note: if you want MET gala takes that are nuanced and based on actual knowledge of the fashion world, i suggest looking to creators like Luke Meagher (HauteLeMode) and Mandy Lee (@oldloserinbrooklyn), from whom i’ve learned most of what i know.

but if there’s one thing i do understand, it’s a theme. i may not be able to execute a theme-driven fashion-y ensemble worthy of the MET gala on my own, but i know how to do the research, how to find the references, and how to assess whether an outfit adheres to a theme, especially a theme that references a piece of literature. and apparently, a lot of celebrities (and their stylists)…simply don’t.

it’s no secret that the MET gala peaked in 2019 with the theme “Camp: Notes on Fashion.” the theme referenced Susan Sontag’s 1964 essay “Notes on ‘Camp,’” which defines the “Camp” aesthetic as “the love of the exaggerated, the ‘off,’ of things-being-what-they-are-not.”¹ this red carpet was the most outlandish, over-the-top, exciting carpet of recent memory. despite many arguments over whether any given celebrity actually understood the meaning of Camp, almost every look was a grand reach towards what Camp could be, a chance for celebrities to turn looks that were well outside of their comfort zones, and just plain fun.

i fear we may never reach the heights of the 2019 MET gala again.

this year, Vogue editor-in-chief and MET gala co-chair Anna Wintour broke one of her cardinal rules of the gala: making the theme of the exhibit and the theme of the red carpet too different from one another. the MET costume institute’s 2024 exhibit is centered around “Sleeping Beauties: Reawakening Fashion.” the exhibit features archival fashion pieces that have not seem the light of day in centuries carefully preserved and shown in glass cases, as well as more recent creations that are simply too delicate to be worn by actual people. the idea is that these fragile pieces left in archives for years if not decades — the “sleeping beauties” — deserve to be seen.

the gala dress code, however, was “The Garden of Time,” referencing a short story by J.G. Ballard, a dystopian tale of wildly rich aristocrats hiding from a riotous crowd in a beautiful, magical garden with the power to reverse time.² this theme evokes ideas of nature, florals, organic materials, as well as clocks, hourglasses, and the passage of time. it even allows for more out-of-the-box interpretations, like references to garden statues or elaborate crystalline garments, as the “time blossoms” from the source material are described as glittering and gleaming like gems. heck, even allowing the “Sleeping Beauties” theme of the exhibit itself influence one’s interpretation of the dress code would also be welcomed.

but apparently, this year’s attendees by and large interpreted the theme to mean one thing: beige.

at the end of Vogue’s red carpet livestream, i found myself thinking “…that’s it?” i’d just spent two and a half hours watching beige, white, and black garments float aimlessly up the sea foam green steps without much impact. i was prepared for a swath of florals that would find me channeling Miranda Priestly, and instead found a barrage of…nothing. i can perhaps understand the instinct to lean into beige — the color of the sands in an hourglass, the color of white garments fading over time, sure — but this is the MET gala. plain beige should frankly be criminal.

this is not to say that there weren’t a handful of looks that left me absolutely gagged. both of Zendaya’s ensembles were unshockingly gorgeous — i was particularly drawn to her entrance Margiela look, especially that floating hummingbird by her neck. Tyla showing up dressed literally as the sands of time in a Balmain dress molded so specifically to her body that it can only be worn once is a perfect encapsulation of the theme, not to mention how stunning she looked. and Lana Del Rey’s custom Alexander McQueen look genuinely made my jaw drop. not only was it gorgeous, the reference to a past McQueen look encapsulated the passage-of-time element of the theme, and finishing with a bejeweled rose corsage was a genius nod to the original Ballard story. no notes.

but even some of the most beautiful looks of the night failed to capture the theme for me. i thought Ariana Grande looked beautiful in her custom mother-of-pearl Loewe bodice, but in her interview she mentioned only references to herself and her character in Wicked. Cardi B’s gigantic Windowsen dress was gorgeous, but…it’s just black? not to mention the sea of plain tuxedos with absolutely no reference to anything related to the theme. anywhere else, these would be incredible looks that i would appreciate to no end, but again: THIS IS THE MET GALA! there is one assignment, and failing to follow it is an absolute shame.

i’m not even going to touch the looks that were simply ugly. we can talk about that in the chat if you want.

where were the florals?? where were the clocks?? did nobody do any research at all?? where is the deference to an event that is often referred to as the Super Bowl of fashion?? does anyone even care??

is the MET gala…over??

i’ve found myself wondering since 2019 if it’s possible to ever reach the glory of the “Camp: Notes on Fashion” red carpet. sure, some of the garments were, to put it simply, hard to look at, and not everybody was able to fully grasp the intricacies of Camp as an aesthetic. but that red carpet is the last time i can recall witnessing so many strong choices at once, where i was genuinely excited to see each new look as celebrities turned the corner, and where i truly was never once bored.

every year i’ve felt a little glimmer of hope that we’d catch a glimpse of Camp, and every year it doesn’t happen.

so, dear reader, on the off chance you find yourself with an invitation to the year’s biggest night in fashion any time soon, i have a singular piece of advice for you: show up and show out. do your research and really go for it. take a risk — where better to do it than the MET?

just please don’t show up in a plain black tuxedo. because if the last few years are any indication, you may be our only hope.

xo
LSW

1. Sontag, Susan. Notes on ‘Camp’. Penguin Books, 2018.

2. this is obviously a wildly simplified synopsis of the story, which is beautiful and i very much suggest reading it. i found it in a short story collection on Libby.