As we all know, the illustrious MET held their annual gala this year centered around a "punk" theme. Subsequent to the calvary of stars dawning frivolous attempts at punk fashion, calamity ensued on every social media platform debating this years theme and its authenticity or lack thereof. This year's exhibit, in conjunction with Vogue, is meant to explore punk fashion through a haute couture lens. Unfortunately, galas are a flagrant display of wealth and antithetical to the punk movement.
Seriously, what happened? Sarah Jessica Parker, this isn't the Trojan War, I don't know how I feel about you trying to juxtapose that headpiece with that gown. Kim Kardashian, sit down and eat a biscuit. Kristen Stewart looks like she's being photographed by a creepy uncle during a family reunion. And just the bevy of boring and tragic attempts at trying to bring "punk" to the red carpet rubbed me the wrong way. I did, however, live for Madonna and Miley Cyrus' looks that evening.
I guess I'm just perturbed because I know an array of talented NYC artists who fight tooth and nail to achieve their dreams. They might not need a red carpet, but they deserve to be recognized. A few months ago, I was approached to do a punk photoshoot with Vogue. I was selected as one of the top choices, but unfortunately I didn't get it. I was bitter for a while, but I realized that I don't need a high brow publication to validate me. The streets are my red carpet, and if I keep a strong heart and a twisted brain, I can cause a ripple in whatever field I pursue.