MET Gala Deep Cut: The Looks & Legacy
Crib sheet: Moments your timeline missed
While your feed drowns in predictable rankings and obvious highlights, I've been dwelling in the spaces between – the quiet triumphs, the subtle victories, and the profound significance that transcends fabric and flash.
"Superfine" wasn't just a dress code – it was a reclamation.
A story centuries in the making that transformed Fifth Avenue for one historic night. The working-class origins of Black dandyism echoing through co-chair Colman Domingo's West Philly swagger.
The way "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" became our collective dog whistle, a soundtrack to centuries of perseverance and style innovation against impossible odds.
I’m thinking about designers as much as I’m am about the kids lining Fifth Avenue, hungry not just for celebrities but for cultural recognition. It's about whether this celebration remains honorary or becomes transformative.
Keep moving if you want another best-dressed list. Stay if you're ready for the Met Gala America needed – not just the one it expected.
But first, the why…
At its core, this is a fundraiser for the Costume Institute, supporting the preservation of fashion as art. Beyond the red carpet, it’s about resourcing the storytelling power of clothing—how it shapes identity, memory, and culture. The looks go viral, but the impact goes deeper (which is especially important rn as art institutions are on high alert 🚨). Honoring the art means honoring the craft, the history, and the future.
The fashion
While there are a thousand hot takes, the true style statements were quieter, more coded. This year’s tailoring did heavy lifting—whether in Thom Browne’s architectural custom suits (Zoe Saldaña!) or the deconstructed pearls woven through Pharrell’s LV ensemble. Forget the feeds—these were pieces that whispered lineage, not just label.
Belle of the Ball: Doechii in LV shorts? A revelation. The cut, the confidence, the color on melanated skin. She reminded us that playfulness and precision aren’t mutually exclusive.
Janelle Monáe, a dandy since at least high school, won the night—or at least tied it with Doechii. Her Thom Browne look was a collaboration with an Oscar-winning custom designer, Paul Tazewell, complete with a steampunk-inspired monocle that tickled me to my core. It was tailored within an inch of its life. It was high-concept, high-craft, and high-camp in all the right proportions.
And Walton Goggins (White Lotus and The Righteous Gemstones) was unexpected proof that dandyism is alive and thriving—just hiding in plain sight.
The meaning in everything
Jodie Turner-Smith in custom Burberry was a salute to a Black equestrian.
When the rapper Pusha T defined dandyism as “the study of elegance,” it was more than a sound bite—it was a syllabus. Elegance as scholarship and as resistance, can you tell he’s a lyricist?
There was a weighted intentionality behind every crown, cape, and cufflink. Queen costume designer herself, Ruth E. Carter, co-designing with Teyana Taylor? That’s not costume, that’s canon.
The André of it all: not just tributes, but threads connecting every look to his legacy. Anna Wintour’s own hush of a cloud coat was a nod to André, designed by Virgil (RIP). A whisper between legends.
La La Anthony wore Off-White by Virgil (apparently with permission from his wife) and it was a bridge between fashion history and the future we’re still writing.
A storyteller is gonna do what she does. That’s Ava DuVernay’s grandmother on the left. Prada helped her reimagine this tribute to her lineage and the theme. Just wow.
The hair
You can’t talk about Black fashion without talking about Black hair. And on this carpet, it spoke volumes. From flipped bobs to finger waves, this year’s crowns were as intentional as the couture. I thought of my son—5½ and already asking for hair like his favorite basketball players. Those players often sport styles born on blocks, not in boardrooms. The ripple effect is generational.
So many side parts (Brian Tyree Henry’s was SLICK!) echoed mid-20th century were fun to watch.
The Josephine Baker kiss curls were outside! Coco Jones, Sydney Sweeney, Taraji P. Henson, Simone Biles, Ayo Edebiri, Anok Yai and others all wore love letters to eras past.
Teyana Taylor: That maroon durag wasn’t just Harlem. It was haute, royal and raw.
The ‘fros: Doechii, Lauryn Hill
Hair art: Cardi B’s architectural triumph; Tessa Thomson’s bob stood out from the other bobs.
The textured ponytail on Kerry Washington and Coco Jones’s floor-sweeping one.
The impact
Colman Domingo’s embellishments, the ear cuff and his Othello nod. A personal look, layered with pride, theater, and Black queer visibility. In an interview he said he “dressed for his 8-year-old awkward self”, and honestly, for all of ours.
The inclusivity
Brown folks were not only present—they were leading. Representation didn’t feel forced—it felt foundational. From entreprenuer/philantropist Mona Patel to Bad Bunny, the culture was giving.
From WNBA champions to Olympians, from the Congo to Compton, this year’s carpet wasn’t about checking boxes. It was about changing the shape of the room.
Willy Chavarria repping Pachuco style and Maluma (in custom Willy), we saw local and global stars and faces, and futures.
Gaming creator Khaby Lame chose analog watches, and Tyler Perry reminded us of the power of a first-time invite.
The ingénues & pop culture crossovers
Lisa of BLACKPINK and White Lotus channeled the 1920s with a modern flair in Chanel.
Keith Powers served model-actor energy in full force.
Mr. Milchick (yes, of Severance) showed up and turned heads, proving TV’s strangest boss is also low-key a style star.
And then there’s Wisdom Kaye—who should have been invited. If dandyism is about grace under pressure and aesthetic authority, no one wears it better. His absence? A miss.
The color blue 💙 (also my fave color)
Blue popped up on Colman, on Simone Biles and a couple of others. Note that there’s always more to the story. File under things you should Goolge during your lunch break: cobalt and The Moors…
The maroon looks were cute too.
Capes & pearls
There were countless capes that made elegant theme interpretations and salutations to André Leon Talley.
Pearl precision: Coco Jones (also in a cape) floated like royalty. I only want to know how heavy her look was.
Pharrell’s pearls didn’t translate in photos but shimmered with a close-up. He told Lala in an interview on Vogue.com that his look was, Part pinstripe, part Saville Row, but pearls!” Backstory: There was an aspect of dandyism in his first LV collection, which Anna Wintour took note and she approached him to be on the committee: “We’ve been sitting on this for like two years!”
What was lacking
As much as I love a Thom Browne x [insert stylish Black celeb] moment—and the Virgil tributes, plus sharp-eyed Pyer Moss and Hanifa sightings gave me hope—I was still left wanting more. Specifically: more Black and African designers on bodies and in the room.
This year’s theme was a golden opportunity to go beyond homage into full-on celebration of Black creative genius. The Met Gala is a global stage built for spectacle and discovery—and that discovery could’ve stretched deeper into the diaspora.
From Lagos to Atlanta, there’s no shortage of designers redefining tailoring, elegance, and cultural storytelling. This was a chance to amplify them—and yes, give my closet some ideas too.
A night centered on Black dandyism without their fuller presence? That’s a missed stitch.
And Erykah Badu, WHERE THE HECK WAS SHE?!!!!
What I’m reading
Eva Chen reshared this 1994 New Yorker profile on André Leon Talley in her stories last night. The tagline: As a black man and the creative director of Vogue, André Leon Talley is at the intersection of many worlds. It’s an essential read. It’s a reminder of who helped build the table we’re now invited to.
3 things I’m loving
This visual reminder that Black tailors built more than suits—they built sovereignty.
One of my fave fashion historian reminds us what gets lost in translation—and who gets erased.
Bringing it back to the art.
Something that felt attainable…
Zac Posen’s Gap collaboration with Laura Harrier gave us an accessible interpretation of dandyism without watering it down. Couture codes, retail remix.
Group Chat: If you miss Joan Rivers as much as me and my homegirls…
So what now?
Last night wasn't the culmination—it was the invitation. The question isn't whether Black style deserved its MET moment, but what happens now that the lights have dimmed and the red carpet's been rolled away.
This wasn’t just a red carpet. It was an open question: will the institutions behind the scenes keep this energy when the hashtags cool down? Next season's runways and next year's museum exhibits. In who gets the budgets, the seats, the campaigns and the co-signs.
Support with more than a sprint to the comments section. Buy the book. Wear the work. Fund the future. Applause is nice—patronage is better. Visit the exhibition.
Because “Superfine” doesn’t end at the step-and-repeat. It starts in the mirror—and lives on in the legacy.
Support their visions. Study their roots. Invest when no one’s watching.
So yes, be thoroughly 'zooted and booted' today. But tomorrow, keep receipts.
Simone this was everything and more. The way you weaved the cultural significance in with commentary, along with (necessary) thoughts about what comes next. 👏🏾
So. Good.
So. Good. Every word. I was also surprised by how KILLER Whoopi Goldberg’s look was! What a glorious fashion feast.