Humans Going Up Stairs

If I went to the Met Gala, I would not wear a headdress. It’s obviously an encumbrance.

But aside from that, I have no idea what it might be like to make my way up the 62 flights of stairs into the Met wearing anything other than sneakers and jeans. Because that’s what I usually wear when I go there.

Nonetheless, the Met Gala is a must-watch, if only to see how grossly out of wack culture has become with reality. And I’m not talking about the costumes. It’s only right that bottles of pee were scattered around the Met to remind us of the lows Bezos will go to squeeze us – and his workers – for hard earned cash and dignity. I was happy to see that Daddy Warbucks chose his costume well: he was dashing as a genital wart in tails, don’t you think? Hobnobbing like Simon Bar Sinister. No one could ever accuse this guy of not having friends now, right?

Last night’s humans-as-art spectacle was one of those purely visual events where audio is unnecessary. In fact, I’m sure I wouldn’t have known what anyone was talking about if I had the sound up. I rarely know who celebrities are anymore, and the people I do know have become unrecognizable. Was that Stevie Nicks or an animatronic Chuck E. Cheese character?

I’m not a fashionista, but watching the parade of conspicuous consumption in silence (which I kept an eye on while multitasking on several screens, including successfully searching for decent/used shorts on Poshmark, tending to a few text threads, and talking on the phone) made the event that much more bizarre. Like watching a surrealist film by Luis Buñuel; strangely adorned human bodies moving through space, craving attention, striking poses, climbing stairs, and relishing the short-lived power trip of being on a guest list of 400 of the coolest cool kids. While the planet burns.

In no particular order:

Rachel Sennott - looks exactly like a girl who hated me in high school. I’m not sure what I’ve done to displease her in our adult lives, but she’s clearly still mad. Perhaps it’s because she’s dressed like a math book.

Emily Blunt - I met her once while waiting in line for the ladies’ room in NYC and she was wearing this exact outfit, I swear.

Connor Storrie - My mom wore a navy version of this halter top to my sister’s wedding and it looked just as spectacular on her.

Ellen Pastorino - This dress was last seen at a nearby Annie Sez on the sale rack. Of course, the store has long since been torn down and will be forever known as Annie Said.

Kim Kardashian - was one of many women (and men) who went the molded torso direction. Did she not know that her own kin, Kylie and Kendall Jenner, would also be sporting plasticized, frighteningly erect nipples? Is this the equivalent of everyone wearing matching t-shirts at a family reunion? Or is there a movement afoot to replace our torsos altogether?

Alysa Liu - Just yay.

Sza - could she be more beautiful? But just because she bought the fabric on Ebay (which I didn’t realize was a kind of virtue signaling) that doesn’t mean she needed to source her headdress from Trader Joe’s.

Finn Wolfhard - I think one of my kids left their mad scientist coat at Finn’s house some years back after trick or treating. I want it back.

Heidi Klum - Took the “Costume Art” brief too literally. This is less “Veiled Vestal” and more Times Square mascot. This dress looks like what it would be like to wear a Diaper Genie, except much uglier.

Jordan Roth - I have a strange obsession with producer-and-theater-ruiner Jordan Roth for reasons I don’t have enough time to write about. But it goes deep. This look, which features Suntan-colored L’Eggs ca. 1978, is Roth’s way of saying, “I don’t know what this costume means but I’m going to wear it and you are going to think I’m interesting.”

Sombre - Liza Minelli said you can keep her pants.

Dress Fluffers - Airbrushed out of almost every single one of these photos are the most important – and least visible – heroes of the evening: the multitudes of assistants holding trains, keeping people from falling down stairs, moving adorned egos from side to side, and praying to god they don’t step on anyone’s feathers, literally.

I have a hunch there are more deserving charities than the Met Costume Institute — although, I do worry about where all those wayward costumes could end up, what with the world being the way it is. And raising a record $43 million in one night is no small feat! Way to go tech bros!

Perhaps $100,000 per ticket is actually a reasonable sum to spend; for a few minutes, all you have to do is put on a costume, suck in your lips (and gut), and do your best not to trip on your way up those stairs. You smirk towards the gaping mouths of the cameras, and you allow yourself to be fed to the ferocious appetite of the viewing public. And (even thought you’ve starved yourself to get there), you’ve managed to appear on the screens of millions, and inside the same room as Simon Bar Sinister himself — the Democracy dismantler, robber baron, and devaluer of humans, Jeff Bezos. And that’s got to be worth something, doesn’t it?

Sure, you might be hungry, but think about them, out there. They’re the ones peeing in bottles.

I know you’ve got thoughts! Share them here! xox

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