Web Exclusive: Met Gala

By: Andrew Yuan

2021 was an abnormal year, and nothing sums up the deviation of normalcy better than this year’s Met Gala. 

As one of the most anticipated events of global fashion, the Met Gala’s return was a chaotic, political, and unfashionable disappointment but seems to highlight a controversial question that America is still grappling with: what is America, and how do we celebrate American independence?

Inspired by the Metropolitan Museum’s (The Met) curation, “In America: A Lexicon of Fashion,” Met Gala borrowed this year’s theme in fashion from notable quilt artwork. A patchwork by Adeline Harris Sears, the oldest piece on display in the curation, utilized patterns of Tumbling Bears (borrowed from Ancient Greeks) and autographs from eight past presidents to reflect American culture. 

But the Met Gala did not cease to disappoint. The opulent charity event is anything but a representation of American fashion. Piled up with European brands from Louis Vultton, Gucci and Prada, the Met Gala exhibited an appeal to traditional, Eurocentric and white-washed representation of America. 

While overall humdrum to viewers who endured through the entire Gala coverage, the Met continued its tradition of bringing a spotlight to individual and underrepresented designers across America. Black designers such as Law Roach and Kenneth Nicholson joined Formula 1 racer Lewis Hamilton and track and field sprinter Sha’Carri Richardson in celebration and empowerment of Black activism in fashion. 

Although the Gala’s panel included people like Timothee Chalamet, Naomi Osaka, Billie Ellish, and Amanda Gorman, symbolizing a rise in youth-empowered fashion and influence in America, Osaka’s Louis Vultton sponsored dress calls into question if the event was celebrating American Independence, or the bare minimum of representing what America is today. 

The night spurred more controversy than any other recent Met Galas, with a feature of varying dresses and designs that could hardly fit under “fashion” to some. Kim Kardashian’s Balenciaga head-to-toe dress generated no productive contribution to the fashion world other than widespread memes and bitter political tweet storms with analogies to burqa bans in Europe amid rising Afghanistan crisis.

Surprisingly, A$AP Rocky’s ERL quilt, an internet sensation for memers, turned out as a subtle nod to American pop art. Fitting with the theme of patchwork and American culture, the rapper’s colorful dress captures the essence of Rev. Jesse Jackson’s speech at the 1984 Democratic National Convention, where he called America “a great quilt of unity and common ground.” However, the cultural and fashionable value of Rocky’s beloved Rihanna fades in comparison.  

Then there came the orchestrated and excessive political presence that no one asked for. With a Cruella-styled dress disoriented ruby paints, AOC brought her message–a ruby-quilted “Tax the Rich—” to the beige carpet of Metropolitan. While calling the $30,000 entrance to Met Gala a “small cost of money,” she branded herself a champion of the impoverished and underrepresented among Fifth Avenue socialites.

Unlike her younger colleague, Representative Carolyn Maloney entered the Gala with a colorful, striped dress with feminist slogans in response to abortion restrictions in Texas and inhumane treatment against Afghan women. In stark contrast with AOC, Maloney received less criticism not only as she is less well-known nationally, but also as a career politician with a solid voter base of Fifth Avenue elites, she is expected to attend these events. 

Celebrities and public figures are eventually left in a deadlock between whether to embrace “traditional” American culture with salutes to Marilyn Monroe, Hollywood vintage or Western cowboys, or to incorporate multicultural designs in deviation from stars-and-stripes American fashion—a question that has only recently entered the fashion world. 

In essence, the theme of the Gala, American independence, itself is a revolutionary movement built upon inequality and labor of underrepresented and neglected. And though some might perceive Harris Sears’ quilt as patriotic, its “representation” builds on predominantly white, even Eurocentric literature and culture that Americans no longer celebrate. 

Exeter’s U.S. History curriculum begs us to consider American independence in its entirety—its successes and flaws equally. It acknowledges America not as a utopia, or even a diverse quilt, but normalizes America as a country tackling a troubled history of racism and social injustice, just as any other country does. The Met Gala overshadows this necessary normalization through idolizing America as it was in the ’60s, ’80s or on July 4th, 1776. 

If we were to accept America as a diverse quilt as opposed to the homogeneous “melting pot,” then what line of diversity should we draw? Should we open our arms to luxury European brands that have historically plundered the environment for a sable coat or a crocodile leather handbag? Then, is it still justifiable to consider Lil Nas X’s Versace cloak, a golden reminder of Louis XIV’s absolutist regime, or Emma Chamberlain’s gleaming Louis Vuitton skirt not as multicultural as Naomi Osaka’s Japanese-Haitian dress and Elliot Page’s green carnation? 

Perhaps more disappointing than the gala itself is the ultimate sarcasm the event reflected. After all, is there a better irony than the parallelism between rising COVID deaths, global humanitarian crises, and rich, flamboyant celebrities or TikTok influencers dancing off on polished floors in aureate silk in the name of “charity?”