Zendaya in Louis Vuitton by Pharrell Williams: Yes, she’s the reigning queen of the Met—but even royalty stumbles. The white suit? Chic. Tailored? Of course. Memorable? Not quite. It felt like recycled Disney villain origin story concept art. And let’s be real: we expected her to shut the carpet down, not politely whisper “excuse me” and stroll past.
Kim Kardashian in Chrome Hearts: Forget the noise—this was the fashion equivalent of a mic drop. Gothic. Sculptural. Cinematic. She emerged like she stepped out of a 90s hip-hop gothic fantasy. One word: divine.
Alton Mason in Boss: He didn’t come to play—he came to school the red carpet. Sculpted. Sleek. Statement-making. While most men looked like underdressed groomsmen, Alton was the designer and the moodboard. Boys, take notes—and then take a seat.
Lana Del Rey in Valentino: I love a poetic soul in couture as much as the next melancholic fashion writer, but this? Less “Born to Die,” more “born to yawn.” The look felt like it was waiting for the rest of the idea to show up.
Teyana Taylor in Marc Jacobs: Now this is how you open the Met carpet. First to arrive, and everyone after looked like seat fillers. Baroque drama, sculptural fantasy, conceptually rich. Honestly, they should’ve rolled up the carpet after her. Best. Dressed. Period.
Rihanna in Marc Jacobs: Pregnancy is beautiful, yes—but it’s starting to feel like her go-to accessory. The look was good and technically on-theme, but Rihanna’s bar is set at redefines glam. This hovered closer to “Page Six slideshow.” We love her. We just expected more than a deconstructed suit accessorized with a bump.
Kendall Jenner in ???: I blinked and missed it. That’s the review.
Hailey Bieber in Saint Laurent: Seriously, girl? You slayed the pre-Met week and this is what you delivered? I’ve seen more creativity in a plain donut. The Met is not dinner at Nammos. NEXT.
Doechii in Louis Vuitton: On theme? Technically. Impactful? Not quite. Doechii’s been serving looks, but this felt like a fashion flatline. Vuitton or not, I expected more from a rising fashion powerhouse.
Sabrina Carpenter in Louis Vuitton: Pharrell said “no pants,” and Sabrina said “on it.” Cheeky, playful, maybe illegal in some countries. I smiled. I cringed. I moved on.
Gigi Hadid in Miu Miu: Stunning. Cinematic. But for Cannes or the Grammys—not the Met. Let’s not confuse Hollywood glam with costume institute creativity. The dress got lost en route to the Riviera.
Diana Ross in a train longer than the taxi line at Dubai Mall: The moment. The legend. The drama. The queen. Serving old-school glamour with a side of legacy. Tens across the board.
Jennie in Chanel: Gorgeous styling—until the rogue trousers crashed the party. A beautiful dress trapped in a bad decision.
Rosalía in Balmain: Editorial excellence. But not quite Met material. Loved the concept, but the execution didn’t hit the assignment. A creative swing, but just left of the bullseye.
Coco Jones in Manish Malhotra: YES. YES. AND YES AGAIN. Manish transformed Coco into a walking couture goddess. Beading, silhouette, presence. A cinematic masterpiece.
Lorde in Thom Browne: Someone said this was “deep.” I said, “Girl… it’s just confusing.” Would’ve slayed the People’s Choice Awards though!
Jenna Ortega in Balmain’s Ruler Gown: Now this is Met Gala. Conceptual. Constructed. Camp-adjacent. Jenna delivered drama by the inch. A+.
Miley Cyrus in Alaïa: Not on theme—but stunning nonetheless. I saved it to three Pinterest boards and stared at it for five minutes. Obsessed.
Anok Yai in Thom Browne: Ethereal. Futuristic. Regal. A dream stitched into reality. No notes. Just awe.
In conclusion: the Met Gala 2025 carpet was a night of highs, sighs, and beaded “why’s.” A runway where train lengths outnumbered theme interpretations, and some attendees clearly didn’t read the memo. But fashion, as always, found its way.
And if you weren’t mentioned? Well… consider that a mercy.
Until next year.
