After the glitz and the glamour and the heretic D-R-A-M-A of the glorious Met Ball came to a close, the celebrities packed it up, packed it in, and headed to the afters, baby.
This year, the looks from the red carpet were so stunning and also confusing that there is truly no way anyone could’ve outdone themselves at the afterparty, save for two very special people who occupy different ends of my personal spectrum of tolerability and one woman who will always have my heart no matter what she wears.
First—Rihanna, who spent her night at the main event serving as the Pope, slipped off all that beading and into something more comfortable—glittery Lurex pajamas? Tiny glasses! Many crosses!! Gotta love a bih who knows that the move for making it through the night is to put on your house clothes and make it fashion. And last, Blake Lively, whose dress reportedly required a goddamn BUS to transport it to the red carp did the most in a different sort of way in this Catholic school girl eleganza (Chanel? Right? It has to be). Pardon me for erasing her work in The Age of Adaline, but all I see here is Serena Van Der Woodsen doing the first Monday in May and I’m not entirely mad about it. Love the hair! I do!
Tracee Ellis Ross eschewed the theme this year for a Schiaperelli-pink explosion of mid-century mod cocktail party realness; I am in LOVE with the cut of these pants, this jacket, this asymmetrical top and most of all, the scaled down mourning-veil hat situation.
Let’s look at the men, all of whom really leaned into “casual.”
Trevor Noah really wants you to listen to his shitty band. Michael B. Jordan traded some Virgil Abloh Off-White shit for a look I like to call “Your man could never.” This buffalo plaid, these motorcycle boots, pardon me, I’m sorry, I love you. Darren Criss couldn’t be bothered to change out of this Dolce and Gabbana number and honestly, who can blame him? If I was wearing this loud-ass, possibly sacrilegious tuxedo jacket emblazoned with Saint Whomstever, I would try to sleep in it. Justin Theroux’s tuxedo jacket over black on black is really the same as ol’ Trevor’s, but Justin Theroux is extremely hot and this photo was part of a photo series that also included Emma Stone (she wore the same thing to the afters, so whatever) and so I feel pretty sure they are dating now and my god, what a pivot.
I love Issa Rae’s shoes but I love this black tassel-thing more. She actually always looks great, I don’t know what I’m talking about. Gabrielle Union’s midnight blue sparkler is very disco but also sort of ‘40s avec the peeptoe platforms, and it’s cute! Behold the cursed image that is Bella Hadid clutching the arm of Jordan Wood, as it is the clarion call we did not need that the ‘90s are back: this apron halter top? These leather loooooow-rise pantaloons, so low that one requires a wax? The mules!? A BELLY CHAIN AHAKDKF. Lilly Collins’s jumpsuit is simple, stark, elegant, dramatic, fabulous. J’adore.
A moment for Frances McDormand’s mustard tracksuit, please, for I would like it in my size immediately, at ONCE.
And another moment for mom and dad, aka Jennifer Lopez and Alex Rodriguez, who changed out of one extra look into yet another.
Does A-Rod look like a bouncer? Yep. Should he relax on the spray tan, just a teense? For sure. Is Jennifer Lopez a glowing and effervescent queen whose mastery of the silhouettes, styles, colors, and textures that work for her is second to none? You betcha! Mom! Dad! We love you.
And now, a word from our sponsor.
This is what you see before you die! Until next year!