The 2025 Met Gala embraced a deliberately political theme by spotlighting Black designers and the tradition of Black dandyism in fashion. Titled “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style,” the accompanying museum exhibit examines 250 years of Black menswear, highlighting how style has been tied to identity, resistance, and social change for Black men. Organizers called this focus “an incredibly political moment,” noting that Black culture and designers now occupy a central place in Western fashion – a culmination of struggles for representation.
In short, the Met Gala’s very theme this year was a statement: fashion was being used to ask questions about race, class, gender, and power rather than just to entertain.
Celebrities and designers seized the opportunity to infuse their red-carpet appearances with political and cultural meaning. Former U.S. Vice President Kamala Harris made her Met Gala debut in a black-and-white Off-White gown (a label founded by the late Virgil Abloh) and explicitly linked art to political progress. In an interview, Harris argued that “art has the power to shape the conversation about where we are today and where we need to go,” emphasizing that fashion and other arts can capture public sentiment and drive social dialogue. Her presence – a prominent politician at an elite fashion event – was itself a message that the worlds of governance and glamour can align on values.
Other guests wove subtler messages into their attire: many paid homage to trailblazing Black fashion icons. For instance, multiple attendees honored the late André Leon Talley (Vogue’s first Black editor-at-large) through their outfits or accessories. Rev. Al Sharpton, a civil rights leader, donned an extravagant dandy-style ensemble and noted that pioneers like Talley “fought to have a night like this” – framing the gala as a hard-won celebration of Black excellence.
Even Hollywood stars like Anne Hathaway explicitly said they dressed to make Talley “look down from heaven and scream ‘GLAMOUR’”, underscoring how the night’s fashion was deployed to honor Black cultural contributions. And in a striking crossover of activism and style, athlete-turned-activist Colin Kaepernick appeared on the carpet “bringing his signature activism and bold style” to the gala. With his iconic afro and a sharply tailored suit, Kaepernick’s very presence served as a reminder of the racial-justice protests he galvanized – a living symbol of protest entering fashion’s biggest arena. From Harris’s speechifying to Kaepernick’s symbolism, the event was suffused with the idea that clothing and celebrity can carry a message about politics and social change.
Public reception – performative glamour or genuine impact?
Reactions to these political statements at the Met Gala were sharply divided. Critics on social media and beyond were quick to accuse the gala of performative activism – seeing it as wealthy elites briefly donning causes like a trendy accessory.
Skeptics pointed out the irony of millionaires in couture advocating for the oppressed, with one commentary rounding up past “activist” outfits (like Cara Delevingne’s “Peg the Patriarchy” vest or AOC’s famous “Tax the Rich” dress) and declaring that such gestures only proved that “activism is kinda over and generally embarrassing” in this context.
Even before this year’s event, Jack Schlossberg (JFK’s grandson) announced a boycott of the 2025 Met Gala, blasting it as ill-timed and hollow. “FASHION IS POLITICAL — So then why is VOGUE SO QUIET?!” he wrote, criticizing Vogue’s silence on real issues and calling the gala incompatible with “so much happening around the world and at home”.
In the same vein, activists themselves sought to pierce the glamour bubble of the Met Gala. Outside the museum, hundreds of protesters gathered during the event – from New York hotel workers fighting for labor rights to pro-Palestinian demonstrators decrying the “obscene” contrast of celebrities flaunting wealth while war raged in Gaza.
The latter group chanted and even jumped barricades, accusing gala attendees of “continuing to flaunt their extreme wealth and materialism” as people suffer. This charged atmosphere highlighted a broader public skepticism: was the Met Gala truly engaging with these issues, or just putting them on parade?
Mainstream media coverage reflected this tension. Some outlets and commentators praised the evening’s intentions, while others questioned its sincerity. Fashion and culture writers noted that the theme did succeed in sparking conversations about Black history and style – arguably a positive outcome.
NPR, for example, called the focus on Black dandyism “more than a fundraiser. It’s a reclamation for many people,” suggesting that the gala gave voice to stories and creativity often overlooked by mainstream fashion. Many viewers and fans on Twitter celebrated the spotlight on Black designers and loved seeing Black excellence front-and-center on such a global stage.
At the same time, there was visible impatience for authenticity. Social media users mocked attendees who seemed to miss the theme or co-opt it clumsily – a sign that the public expects follow-through on the political messaging. When actress Sydney Sweeney, a white star, showed up in a vintage-inspired gown referencing a 1960s film costume, she drew backlash for appearing off-theme. Critics argued her look was “lazy and theme-inappropriate,” noting that it referenced white Hollywood glamour rather than the Black fashion focus, and thereby “missed the theme” entirely.
The subtext of such criticism was clear: this night carried a cultural weight, and paying lip service wasn’t enough. Even celebrities who did engage with causes faced scrutiny – there’s a fine line between using your platform and merely manufacturing an image.
As one op-ed put it bluntly, the Met Gala can easily become “a vehicle for hypocrisy,” where stars sport slogans about equality one minute and return to status quo luxury the next. “Once these celebrities strip away their flashy activist slogans, many are still the same privileged 1%,” one critic observed, voicing a common cynicism that these gestures are more self-congratulatory than world-changing.
On the other hand, defenders of fashion-as-politics argue that symbolism and impact are not mutually exclusive. Many attendees who made statements at the gala have proven records of advocacy off the red carpet – and their fans know it. Kamala Harris, for instance, isn’t only wearing a meaningful dress; she spent the prior week giving speeches on economic justice.
Likewise, activists noted that highlighting Black designers at an event of this profile is itself a win for representation and industry change. The Met Gala’s dress code “Tailored for You” led numerous guests to don archival pieces by Black designers or to collaborate with up-and-coming Black creatives.
That kind of visibility can translate into real opportunities for those designers beyond the gala. Supporters also contend that engaging millions of viewers in a discussion of fashion history – from the way W.E.B. Du Bois saw clothing as a tool of empowerment, to how Black dandies subverted racist expectations – has educational value. Indeed, experts in fashion history applaud these moments.
Monica Miller, a professor who guest-curated the Met exhibit, noted that Black dandy style has always carried a political duality: “a tension between being owned and ‘owning it’,” between assimilation and resistance. By showcasing this at a glamorous event, the Met Gala essentially broadcast a crash course in these ideas to the world.
In that light, what some call “performative” might still provoke thought. As one fashion writer quipped, “Your empty gesture is my potent symbol of solidarity.” – what seems like a hollow stunt to one person may inspire another.
Many attendees genuinely believed in the causes they highlighted, and their statements – however stage-managed – got people talking. In today’s hyper-social media landscape, that awareness-raising isn’t nothing. Fashion can hit nerves: just recall how AOC’s tax-the-rich dress ignited days of debate about income inequality.
Similarly, this year’s tributes and comments (like Sharpton’s pride in being “as dandy as I could” in honor of Talley) were largely received by the communities involved as heartfelt acknowledgments of progress. The mix of praise and criticism in the public reception shows that the Met Gala succeeded in being provocative – it forced a conversation about whether its brand of high-profile activism is substance or spectacle.
The Gala as spectacle vs. catalyst: Can fashion drive real change?
The broader question lingering over the 2025 Met Gala is whether these politically charged displays amount to meaningful social impact, or simply a luxe spectacle of faux-engagement. It’s a critique the gala has faced for years, heightened whenever themes turn overtly political.
On one side, cynics argue that real change doesn’t wear couture. A $75,000-per-ticket gala underwritten by fashion corporations is, in this view, inherently at odds with anti-establishment messaging. No gown, however clever, will directly change policy or improve material conditions for those outside the museum’s rarified halls. When protestors outside are chanting for Palestinian lives or laid-off workers while insiders toast champagne, the disconnect is hard to ignore. This camp sees the Met Gala’s activism as “activist fashion at its emptiest” – well-meaning statements that risk trivializing the very issues they highlight. The immediate aftermath of such events often supports the skeptics: headlines trend for a day, memes circulate, but entrenched problems remain. In short, a dress with a slogan might make waves online, but it won’t pass a law or feed a family (as critics love to point out).
And yet, it would be a mistake to dismiss the cultural influence of these moments outright. High fashion events and real-world activism have a complicated, sometimes surprisingly symbiotic relationship. History shows that visual statements can precede shifts in consciousness. The suffragettes of the early 1900s wore all-white as a form of protest fashion; more recently, Black Lives Matter protesters and athletes like Kaepernick made hoodies, jerseys and kneeling into potent symbols. These gestures alone didn’t create change, but they moved the needle of public awareness.
Similarly, when the Met Gala amplifies a message – be it racial equity, feminism, or LGBTQ+ rights – it injects that message into pop culture on a grand scale. Millions of people who might never read an academic book on racism in fashion are at least seeing and hearing about it in gala coverage. As Harris noted, art and fashion “capture the mood…without words” and can spur conversation about where society needs to go.
In other words, the gala is a spectacle, but one that operates in the realm of soft power: shifting perceptions, celebrating marginalized creators, and normalizing activism as part of celebrity life. Even the backlash is instructive – it reflects a public demand that activism be authentic, not just aesthetic. That demand itself is a cultural shift; people now expect their icons to stand for something off-screen. This broader trend owes something to events like the Met Gala, which keep testing the boundaries of how entertainment and activism intersect.
Experts in social movements suggest that popular culture can indeed be a gateway to engagement. It’s no coincidence that protests have started piggybacking on the gala’s platform (as seen in 2024 and 2025) – activists recognize that media spectacles offer a chance to reach audiences otherwise tuned out of politics. Rather than reject the gala entirely, some advocates leverage it, essentially saying: “If the world is watching, we’ll be there too.”
Meanwhile, within the industry, having a Met theme centered on Black empowerment sends a message to fashion power-brokers about whose stories deserve recognition. It might not be legislative change, but cultural shifts often pave the way for policy shifts down the line by changing the zeitgeist.
Fashion scholar Monica Miller underlined that “fashion is political” because it’s about who gets seen and respected. By that metric, the 2025 gala made a difference simply by centering Black style and history under the brightest spotlight in fashion. The true impact of such an event is diffuse and hard to measure – it operates in conversations sparked at after-parties, in young designers feeling inspired to push forward, in everyday people Googling who W.E.B. Du Bois or André Leon Talley were after seeing the tributes. These are not trivial outcomes.
Crucially, a counterintuitive but compelling perspective has emerged: enjoying the Met Gala and caring about real-world issues aren’t mutually exclusive. Some commentators argue that forcing people to choose between fashion and activism is a false dilemma. The gala can be understood on two levels – as a glittering costume party and as a forum for symbolic speech.
The key is not to let the spectacle replace substantive action, but to let it complement and bolster it. When done thoughtfully, a statement gown or a bold interview at the Met Gala can amplify a cause to an audience of millions – a form of awareness that activists working in the trenches can then harness.
Of course, the onus is on celebrities to follow through off-camera for these gestures to maintain credibility. But many do; for example, after turning heads in a “Tax the Rich” dress, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez returned to Congress to actually push for taxing the rich. The gala didn’t solve inequality that night, but it got people talking – and talk can translate into political pressure over time.
In the end, the 2025 Met Gala embodied the productive contradictions of fashion as political expression. It was at once a dazzling spectacle of haute couture and a platform for messages about race, justice, and equality. It both courted criticism for shallow virtue-signaling and earned applause for elevating important conversations.
The truth is, these high-fashion statements are inherently imperfect tools for activism – but they are tools nonetheless. They operate in the realm of culture, where change often begins. As one Guardian analysis observed, Black dandy fashion has long been about “preserving a tension between politics and aesthetics”, forcing observers to “look and think” in new ways.
The Met Gala achieved exactly that: it made us look, and it made us think – about who gets to be celebrated, about how art intersects with politics, and about the authenticity of those claiming the activist mantle. Whether that leads to tangible change or not, it certainly challenged the narrative that a gala is just a party.
