When Fashion Tried to Become Art: My Thoughts on the 2026 Met Gala

 

When Fashion Tried to Become Art: My Thoughts on the 2026 Met Gala

Every year, the Met Gala arrives dressed as a conversation. Sometimes it whispers. Sometimes it screams in Swarovski crystals. And this year? It tried to become a painting. A sculpture. A living installation. The theme “Fashion Is Art” invited celebrities to stop serving just beautiful outfits and start serving meaning. Storytelling. Emotion. Drama. Risk.

And honestly? Some people understood the assignment. Others looked like they downloaded it halfway through the flight to New York.

As an African creative and stylist watching from the other side of the world, I always find the Met Gala fascinating because fashion is deeply cultural for us. We come from communities where clothing has always been art. Beading, textiles, patterns, ceremonial dressing, storytelling through garments, we have lived this concept long before luxury fashion houses turned it into a yearly museum theme. So when the world’s biggest celebrities say “fashion is art,” I expect commitment. I expect madness. I expect genius. I expect to gasp a little.

Let’s begin with Beyoncé.

After ten years away from the Met Gala carpet, Beyoncé finally returned, and the expectations were astronomically high. People weren’t just waiting for an outfit. They were waiting for an event. A cultural reset. Especially because she was one of the evening’s co-chairs.

Now listen… I wanted to love this look so badly.

The skin-toned mesh dress embellished with a diamond skeleton by Olivier Rousteing had potential. The feathered opera coat dragging dramatically behind her? The idea was there. I could see the vision. Rock-and-roll goddess meets futuristic relic. But somehow the execution felt confused, like too many beautiful ideas fighting each other for attention. It wasn’t ugly. It just felt… crowded. Like the outfit itself didn’t know which direction it wanted to walk in.

Sometimes fashion can become a victim of over-styling. You add one more dramatic detail and suddenly the magic disappears.

Ironically, I preferred Beyoncé’s second look inside the museum more than the actual carpet appearance. The crystallized black-and-nude Robert Wun mermaid gown felt more refined, more intentional, more hauntingly beautiful. The sheer black veil sparkling against the darkness gave mystery. It felt like the quieter, moodier sister of the first look, and honestly, she won me over there.

Then came Rihanna, another woman people practically wait for like a national holiday.

Last year she arrived pregnant and casually broke the internet again. This year she returned in Maison Margiela couture, wearing what she described as an oyster-inspired look. And once again, I wanted to love it.

The craftsmanship was undeniable. Jewel-encrusted bodice, sculptural framing, muted metallics, it looked incredible on the runway. But on Rihanna? Something got lost in translation. Fashion is strange like that sometimes. A garment can feel poetic on a model and then somehow lose its soul on a celebrity.

I don’t hate the look. Let me be clear. Rihanna still has that aura where she can wear a curtain rod and people will call it revolutionary. But compared to her previous Met Gala moments, this one didn’t hit as hard. The hairstyle though? Gorgeous. The face card? Never declines.

Moving on to the Kardashian-Jenners… ah yes, the unofficial Met Gala furniture at this point.

Before anyone drags me, this is purely from a stylist’s perspective: I am tired.

Tired of the corsets. Tired of the sculpted bustiers. Tired of the same silhouette recycled in twenty-seven different shades of nude. Kylie and Kendall Jenner arrived looking polished, yes, but safe. Beautiful, yes, but predictable. Even the prosthetic nipple detailing felt more gimmicky than groundbreaking. And Kim Kardashian continuing her sculptural shapewear era just made me sigh a little.

I need them to break free from the prison of “snatched.” Fashion can also be soft. Strange. Emotional. Weird. Messy. Fluid. Playful. Not every silhouette needs to look vacuum-sealed.

Now let’s talk about the people who truly understood “Fashion Is Art.”

Emma Chamberlain absolutely stunned me.

Her hand-painted Mugler gown looked like someone had sliced a Van Gogh painting off a museum wall and wrapped it around a human body. The brushstroke detailing, the dramatic train, the watercolor manicure, it was breathtaking without trying too hard. That’s the thing about good styling: when it works, it feels effortless even when hundreds of hours went into it.

She looked like a moving oil painting. Like poetry with a passport.

And then there’s my forever Met Gala favourite, Janelle Monáe.

That woman never comes to play.

While others arrive dressed beautifully, Janelle arrives dressed like a concept. Her Christian Siriano gown constructed from electrical wiring, moss, succulents, butterflies, and circuit board fragments was chaotic in the best possible way. Technology and nature colliding into post-apocalyptic glamour? That’s art. That’s imagination. That’s risk.

Janelle understands that the Met Gala is not just about looking attractive. It is performance art. It is theatre. It is storytelling. Every year she treats fashion like cinema and honestly, more celebrities should take notes.

I also loved Karan Johar’s debut. The Manish Malhotra ensemble inspired by Raja Ravi Varma paintings was one of the evening’s strongest artistic interpretations. The gold hand-painted detailing made the garment feel sacred, almost archival. It reminded me that fashion becomes powerful when it remembers where it comes from. Heritage matters. Craftsmanship matters. Cultural storytelling matters.

And can we please talk about the men for a second?

Because while many of them arrived looking like luxury hotel managers, a few truly gave us fashion moments.

Kaye in Public School? Incredible. Sharp tailoring with metallic detailing that felt futuristic without becoming costume-like. Clean, intentional, memorable.

Meanwhile, A$AP Rocky slightly disappointed me. I actually preferred the outfit without the dramatic pink robe. Underneath it, the tailoring looked stronger and more elegant. The robe made the look feel heavy instead of elevated. Still stylish, obviously. He’s A$AP Rocky. But I expected more danger. More experimentation.

And then there’s Damson Idris.

Now listen, that man is offensively handsome, so he can survive almost any outfit. But the oversized leather trench look felt incomplete somehow. I understood the vision. I appreciated the boldness. But something was missing emotionally. It looked more like a strong editorial photoshoot than a fully realized Met Gala moment.

But the woman who could literally do no wrong in my eyes? Anok Yai.

That look was divine.

The Black Madonna inspiration, the sculptural beauty, the haunting elegance, the hair, the makeup, everything worked together perfectly. She looked less like a celebrity and more like a living monument. Some people wear fashion. Anok transforms into it.

And honestly, that’s what this year’s Met Gala taught me: fashion becomes art when it transforms the person wearing it into an experience.

Not everyone achieved that this year.

Some outfits felt overthought. Some felt repetitive. Some felt like celebrities hiding behind couture instead of expressing themselves through it. But the few who succeeded reminded us why the Met Gala still matters. At its best, fashion is not just fabric. It is memory. Protest. Fantasy. Identity. Humour. Architecture. Emotion.

I know I didn’t even get into SZA, Tyla, Cardi B and so many others because honestly this blog would become a thesis. Maybe there will be a part two because African opinions on global fashion deserve space too. We deserve to critique, celebrate, and participate in these conversations beyond just being spectators.

But if I’m being completely real?

I still think last year’s Met Gala gave us stronger fashion moments overall. People seemed hungrier. More daring. More committed to the fantasy. This year had beautiful ideas, but not every idea fully landed.

Still… fashion tried to become art this year.

And sometimes even the failed masterpieces are worth looking at.