You’ve “Met” Yourself Go

Glitzy, glamorous and the perhaps the fashion's most fantastic night out: the Met Gala. It came, we saw, they conquered. The one time high society soirée turned publicity circus took New York again this past Monday, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to care this year.

Objectively speaking, I found it to be one of the best showings in recent years. I thought there were more well dressed attendees than there were not, which is an achievement given the last few years. The theme was fantastic and gave the opportunity to honor so many deserving black luminaries and talents in the field of fashion.

There were plenty of Thom Browne looks, plenty of references to André Leon Talley and plenty of standout fashion moments. But I couldn’t bring myself to really care. Just as the Met seems to be getting itself back on track with how things should be, I feel burnt out. I’m tired of it all. I found it hard to care about the event like I did in the past because in many ways it’s lost its soul. Maybe better said, it’s lost any edge. It feels no different than a red carpet, no more special.

Custom and Couture clothing was once elusive and seldom seen, now we see Couture on celebrities sometimes hours after it’s been shown on the runway. Many of the guests completely shirk the theme and dress in whatever a given house throws together for them. There’s so little fun to the whole affair anymore. It lost all joy when it became so meticulous.

Meticulous clothing is fine, a meticulous event is exasperating. Perhaps I’m alone on the island of blasé. But, I feel we’ve all known something was “off” for a while. The thrill is gone. Normally I would take this time to offer a prescription for how to fix it. But frankly, I’m not sure. Fashion, much like everything else, is currently bloated. Either it finds a way to deflate safely or it’s going to burst.