A MET GALA REVIEW (THOTS & PRAYERS FOR HEAUXS)
Hi. I was in the Paper Machete this weekend. THANKS FOR COMING (bitch ... WHERE WERE YOU). It's the best show in Chicago. It happens every Saturday at 3pm at the Green Mill. It's FREE, and you should go. The show covers the week's events in politics, culture and other events ... it's like a live news magazine. It's the greatest. I love the Paper Machete and I love getting to write for it ... it's the hardest most challenging thing I ever get to do. It's super hard and fun, and I'm basically the resident bitchy queen ... this week I covered the Met Gala.
Yaaas, queen. Last Monday, May 7 was the very first Monday in May and if you’ve got cable TV down in that fallout shelter of yours then you know exactly what that means. It was the 70th annual Met Gala or Met Ball if you’re nasty.
I can hear the straights powering down their thinking caps, WTF IS A MET GALA. Well, my dudes, are you even on the Internet and also it is Two Thousand Hate Teen: make a gay friend and get yourself culturally literate. The Met Gala, or what is sometimes referred to as the Costume Institute Gala (but only by people so wealthy they’ve never heard of Beyoncé), is an annual fundraiser for the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute in New York City. What does that even mean? Well, it’s basically a bake sale for the costume department of the museum except Lady Gaga might perform.
The party is organized by Anna Wintour, the editor of American Vogue, which means it is a global-celebrity fashion-cocktail-dinner-concert-red-carpet MONSTROSITY. The event is the fashion world equivalent of the Super Bowl, Oscars, and the non-equity Jeff Awards having a baby with Fashion Week. The Met Gala is all the award shows AND their red carpets rolled into one giant outrageous sartorial extravaganza.
In layman’s terms, the Met Gala is the grand opening of the Costume Institute’s annual fashion exhibit. Only the fanciest of the fancy are invited to attend. You know … Oscar winners, models, Kanye’s mother-in-law … folks like that. The guest list is full of whatever moneyed jerks Anna has decided can breathe the same air as her ... AS LONG AS they bring her a check. It's a fundraiser! YOU GUYS. Millionaires, they're just like us!
This is a night for elite stars to convene, and if they’re doing their jobs correctly they’re decked out in the year’s most over-the-top looks. As far as we’re concerned … The Met Gala is rich people Halloween. These fools are tasked with paying a stylist thousands of dollars to take the theme of the new exhibit, get wildly creative with it and then turn it into something reminiscent of clothing. This is not a night for tasteful elegance. Of course, there will be basic bitches in attendance wearing some trash they might be able to pass off as fashion on Oscar night, but THAT IS NOT WHAT THIS NIGHT IS ABOUT.
An invite from Anna Wintour to the Met Gala means forget being coy. This event was created for showing up and showing out. The party is held inside the Metropolitan Museum of Art for Christ sake. Attendees are REQUIRED to BE ART. Think Cher in the throws of a manic episode, Mitch McConnell after drinking the blood of a child waiting for a heart transplant, or Rudy Giuliani on any given afternoon … complete madness! We’re talking headdresses, plumage, 50-foot yellow fur trains, face masks, mesh netting, cod pieces, tits and ass out: this is a night of anything goes. The Met Gala is a star’s chance to really go for it and wrap themselves in cellophane and turkey slices if they want all in an effort to end up trending on Twitter.
If you’re still lost let me break it down for you … imagine … Iron Man, Thor, the Hulk and the rest of the Avengers only make them Solange, Kendall Jenner, Cardi B, and everyone else you’ve ever heard of uniting to impress their most powerful enemy yet – no not Thanos – but Vogue editor Anna Wintour. She’s on a mission to collect all six Infinity Stones (ie all the money ever ever ever in the whole entire world), Anna plans to use this cash to inflict her twisted celebrity obsessed will on reality. The fate of the planet and existence itself has never been more uncertain. Everything the “Avengers” have worked and fought for has led up to this one night.
This year's exhibit (and theme for the event) was “Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination.” Girl, I know. When I read heavenly bodies, Catholics, and imagination all in the same sentence the only thing I imagined was a bunch of priests lined up at an all you can eat ass buffet down at the nearest all boys’ school but, OK Ms. Wintour, anything you say.
The event begins with your favorites sweeping up the iconic red carpeted stairs of the Met, for their grand entrance. The men weren’t all that into the costume portion of the evening this year per usual, but Jared Leto was there giving us Jesus realness with his long flowy locks, brocade clergy stole, and lifts on his shoes so we’ll maybe forget he’s only four feet tall. A super sexy honorable mention should go to Michael B Jordan for looking like his Louis Vuitton suit was painted onto him.
Everyone’s favorite Catholic bad girl: Madonna was in attendance. She wore a giant black Gone With the Wind style hoopskirt complete with a funeral lace veil covering her face, a giant gold crown of crosses, and a bouquet of black roses. The internet tells me this was Jean Paul Gaultier’s version of a Sicilian widow, but it read more Grim Reaper or the physical embodiment of her career.
Highlights from the night included Katy Perry who showed up fresh from hand delivering an olive branch to Taylor Swift wearing enormous angel wings paired with a short gold dress and thigh-high boots; Sarah Jessica Parker sporting a two-foot-tall nativity scene on her head making her look more like Kim Cattrall’s revenge story than the fashion icon she pretends to be, and Rihanna, always a superstar of the Met Gala came in full Pope drag complete with a beaded headdress.
The real show stopper of the night though, and the only moment from the Met Gala you need so you sound like you’re “in the know” came from Frances McDormand. Franny, known for wearing jean jackets to award shows, donned a leaf-green taffeta cape over a yellow jump suit and a giant halo of what appeared to be leaves quivering about her face. Her outfit had zero to do with the theme but who is gonna volunteer to tell Frances McDormand she’s doing it wrong.
This year’s Met Gala did not disappoint it was the closest thing we mere mortals have to a fully realized episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race, and a goddamned delight as always.