Visualize showing up to a Halloween party in a Black Swan costume you meticulously crafted from a old-fashioned black feathered tulle skirt, winged eyeliner you finally mastered (however after spending the better part of your evenings hunched in excess of your bathroom mirror watching YouTube tutorials), and pointe shoes you can only just walk in (but they make the look), and your friend walks in in a abominable American Apparel leotard and calls herself a ballerina. That’s bullsh*t, and we’re stake that’s how Rihanna felt glancing around the Met Gala last night-time.
She was the black swan queen of the Costume Institute Gala, paying esteem to the avant-garde Rei Kawakubo theme in a true Comme des Garcons masterpiece, up while others dressed down or maybe even completely ignored the holiday theme altogether in minimalist looks from the likes of Calvin Klein (Gwyneth, we’re looking at you). No, there’s nothing indeed wrong with the pretty looks — most of them would land these heavenly bodies on the best dressed list of any other event — but please, not to the Met Gala. It discerns me think of that moment in the Sex and the City movie, you know, when Carrie deteriorations a bird in her hair and Big can’t even show up to the altar. She put a bird on her head and harassed it with a Vivienne Westwood gown — and he didn’t even get out of the car. It’s exactly with that (minus the whole jilted bride thing).
Rihanna boldly comprises the theme in something sculptural — and no doubt, hard to sit in — and Elle Fanning waltzes down the carpet in a warm strapless Miu Miu gown. Nope, not today, Elle. Of all the times to play it all right, it’s certainly not when you’re a celebrity who actually gets invited to participate in one of the uncountable exciting red carpets of the year. If the dress code said black tie, last will and testament you show up in jeans?
Still, it happens every year. Despite the paper, which is obviously open to much interpretation, there are a majority of women who just don’t take their style cues from the invite, or only just look like they’re trying. I get the risk involved in putting on feathers or apparel a mask, or doing any number of things outside your comfort zone (and Comme des Garcons fashion can certainly acknowledge people outside their comfort zones), but come on — Helen Lasichanh didn’t unprejudiced have access to her arms. (Could she even eat? Or go to the bathroom?) That’s commitment, people. Trustworthy, the outrageous isn’t the «prettiest» or the «sexiest» of the night, and there’s certainly the threat of the «awful dressed list» to consider, but isn’t being memorable something, too? And even varied so, when did we stop having fun with fashion — especially when the actuality practically begs us to? At the very least, what about just display up and putting it all out there with winged liner, a veiled headpiece, a tufted column, and a knowing smile that says, «I nailed it.»