Politicizing the MET: In Conversation with StyledbyTiti
A Nigerian Stylist's Perspective on the 2025 Met Gala and Exhibition
My eyes were bloodshot the morning after the Met. I had stayed up all night to watch global stars parade a velvety blue carpet, adorned with gorgeous fabrics and designs. Exactly 3 weeks ago today, the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute held their annual gala—the Met Gala.
Since it’s beginnings in 1948, when tickets were $50 a pop, the Met has evolved into ‘fashion’s biggest night’ celebrating designers and global style while generating millions in revenue for the museum’s Costume Institute. While the sheer grandeur of the night is often attributed to flippantly and even compared to the excesses of the Capitol in The Hunger Games, the inherently political nature of fashion also makes it the loudest stage for political expression through clothing—a conversation which is political in itself.
In recent years, the gala has leaned into this narrative with unique and contemplative themes that encourage designers and their guests to critique established societal order and speak out in favor of individual expression. This was exemplified in the 2018 theme, Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination. The theme sought designs that showed the connection between Catholicism and the evolution of fashion. But it was also the perfect avenue for filmmaker and actor, Lena Waithe, to defy convention in a Carolina Herrera cape in the rainbow colors of the Pride flag.
F1 star and fashion visionary, Lewis Hamilton knows all too well about the politics that lie beneath the ruffled layers. In 2021, he bought a table at the Met, specifically to host Black designers and stylists who otherwise would not have been able to afford a sit. Fast forward to 2025, Hamilton was announced as co-chair for this year’s Met with a historic theme—Superfine: Tailoring Black Style.
The theme was a celebration of Black dandyism, spotlighting Black designers and artists from around the world. The exhibit itself also featured a large collection of Black attire from around the globe. While the event has been commended for its inclusivity, the significance of such a night also has underlying conversations that demand further examination. From the Met’s non-acknowledgement of Andre Leon Tally to the public’s general distaste for feminine representations of dandyism, and of course, how African fashion fits into this niche subject.
To unpack these questions, I sat down with Nigerian stylist, Tomisin Ojo, aka, StyledbyTiti. An aspiring fashion stylist and creative director, Tomisin is all about bringing looks to life and telling stories through style. As a stylist who thinks outside the box, dissecting the Met was something I knew she would bring a unique view on.
Words from Tomisin: ‘For me, styling isn’t just about looking good—it’s about feeling good. I love telling stories through clothes, and coming up with fresh, unexpected ways to make pieces feel natural, exciting, and real. If someone sees a look I’ve styled and thinks, “I want to wear that,” then I’ve done my job.’
Read our full convo below.
This year’s Met Gala has wrapped up, and as always, it gave us plenty to talk about. What were your general impressions of the evening and how do you think it measured up to Met Galas in recent years?
I think this was one of the best Met Gala nights in the past two to three years. What stood out to me was how beautiful and unapologetically Black the evening felt. Black culture wasn’t just acknowledged, it was celebrated and deeply appreciated. That sense of visibility really took it for me and I can really say this was one of my favorite carpets in a while.
The theme was ‘Superfine: Tailoring Black Style’. It was a celebration of Black dandyism, history, and fashion. For so many people around the world, it seemed like a great celebration of Black culture, especially Black American culture. What was your initial reaction to the theme? How did you interpret it, and what were you expecting from it?
I was very excited, to say the least. Even from the initial visuals and reference images used to introduce the theme, you could tell we were in for a real treat. The way dandyism was explained, especially by [Monica L. Miller], the author of [Slaves to Fashion: Black Dandyism and the Styling of Black Diasporic Identity] that inspired the theme, really drew people in. It wasn’t just about fashion; it was about recognizing how deeply Black people have shaped and enriched this space.
What stood out to me was how the theme highlighted the way Black people weave creativity into their everyday lives. It felt like a tribute to not just style, but cultural innovation, pride, and presence. I was especially eager to see how designers would interpret that through tailoring, how they would push boundaries, and how they’d use accessories to elevate their pieces.
…the Met Gala can be both a spectacle and a statement. When done right, it not only entertains but elevates the stories and communities it chooses to highlight.
The Met Gala is often compared to the Capitol from The Hunger Games. The avant-garde styling, bigger-than-life production, and glam are both admired and reproached by audiences. Do you think that comparison is fair? What do you make of the tension between its cultural significance and its extravagance?
Oh, I totally agree—the comparison to the Capitol is fair. The Met Gala is an exclusive, invitation-only event where the richest and most influential people arrive in their most luxurious and intricately designed outfits. Meanwhile, the rest of the world watches from a distance—something that’s only become more accessible in recent years. That kind of exclusivity does highlight class divides and how far removed the event can feel from everyday life.
That said, I personally don’t find the extravagance uncomfortable. Fashion has always been a form of storytelling, art, and bold self-expression. The extravagance of the Met Gala feels intentional and creative—not wasteful. In fact, sometimes that level of fantasy and drama is exactly what we need. Life can be heavy, and having a night where you get to come home from work, grab your snacks, and watch the red carpet unfold, it’s a kind of joy and escapism that brings people together. It gives us something to look forward to and something to talk about.
Would I say the Met Gala lacks cultural significance? Absolutely not. Fashion has always reflected culture, politics, identity, and history. Just like in The Hunger Games, where the Capitol—despite its extravagance—still had cultural weight, the Met Gala can be both a spectacle and a statement. When done right, it not only entertains but elevates the stories and communities it chooses to highlight.
Speaking of glamour, this year’s theme centered around Dandyism and consequently saw stars and fashion houses leaning into a “less is more” approach. This starkly contrasts with what we’ve come to expect from the Met in recent years—from the ethereal 2018 “Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination” to the iconic 2019 “Camp: Notes on Fashion.” Did you appreciate the more muted colors, focus on structure and subtle glam compared to the camp silhouettes we’ve come to associate with the Met?
I see the angle where people say you don’t have to be loud to be impactful—and that’s true in many ways. But as Black people, we’re often known for being bold, extravagant, and vibrant in how we dress and present ourselves. That energy and expressiveness are part of our cultural identity and celebration.
Honestly, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the “let’s keep it demure” approach this year. I was hoping for more color, bigger silhouettes, and eye-catching accessories—the kind of boldness that makes a statement and turns heads. The Met Gala has always been a place to push boundaries, and for me, that means embracing the full spectrum of Black creativity and flair, not dialing it down.
At the end of the day, the Met is a fashion affair. So naturally, we have to talk about the looks themselves. From the red carpet to the after-parties, what were your favorite looks this year, and why did they stand out?
Honestly, how much time do you have? I could make such a long list of standout looks this year—it was truly a showcase of creativity and individuality. What struck me most about the people who shone were their choices in color, styling, tailoring, and silhouettes, but also the sheer charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent they brought to the event.
Some names that stood out to me for various reasons include Teyana Taylor, Tessa Thompson, Lewis Hamilton, Jennifer Goicoechea, Imaan Hammam, Lauryn Hill, Chance the Rapper, Kerry Washington, Laura Harrier, Zoe Saldana, Nicki Minaj, A$AP Rocky, Jodie Smith and Ayo Edebiri. Each of them interpreted the theme in a way that felt fresh, bold, and deeply personal.
Really, the list could go on and on—there was so much to admire in how these stars pushed boundaries and brought Black dandyism to life on the red carpet with such flair and confidence.
In terms of red carpet looks, some audiences have criticized designers and celebrities for not being on theme. Were there any looks you felt missed the mark? If so, how would StyledbyTiti reinvent them to better reflect Black dandyism?
Oh as always there will be those that do not follow the theme, some just come in plain black suits and call it a day. [For me] personally, even if we were to go for a plain black suit (which of all the years you could get away with it would be now) I think the best way to amplify this is with your accessories. The incorporation of hats, the use of watches and chains and canes, the unconventional ways in which you style this as well can take you from a plain suit to wow you ate.
The Black dandy is almost always portrayed as male. We saw this in the menswear tailoring that dominated the carpet. All the co-chairs this year were also Black men—Pharrell Williams, Colman Domingo, Lewis Hamilton, and A$AP Rocky. Audiences also seemed to shun the more femme-forward looks, like those worn by Gigi Hadid and Anne Hathaway. Do you think there’s space for Black femininity in conversations around Black dandyism? If so, which looks do you think captured that perfectly?
Absolutely, there’s definitely space for Black femininity in conversations around Black dandyism. While the traditional image of the dandy has often been male—and that was reflected in the men’s tailoring dominance on the carpet—Black femininity has always had its own rich history of style, elegance, and bold self-expression that deserves recognition.
The celebration of Black dandyism shouldn’t be limited to just classic menswear or masculine presentation. It can and should include femme-forward, gender-fluid, and boundary-pushing expressions of style. This year, some looks did that beautifully. For example, Laura Harrier, Kerry Washington and Ayo Edebiri embodied the spirit of dandyism through their fearless use of tailoring, accessories showing that Black femininity can be just as refined, powerful, and creative.
I think expanding the conversation to include a wider range of gender expressions only enriches the understanding of Black style and identity. It’s exciting to see this evolving narrative at such a high-profile event.
When you first heard about the theme, were there any references or pieces that immediately came to mind? If you had attended the MET this year, what would you have worn—and what would your look have been saying?
When I first heard about the theme, my mind immediately went to designers like Thom Browne and Tolu Coker. Both of them have such a brilliant understanding of tailoring, storytelling, and identity. Their work feels deeply intentional and rooted in culture, while still pushing boundaries in the most artistic way.
If I had the chance to attend the Met Gala this year, I would have absolutely loved to be dressed by either of them. My look would aim to break the boundary between gender and showcase the full expression of Tomisin’s style. I would have played with color—bold, intentional, celebratory—and let accessories elevate the look to something unforgettable.
More than anything, I would want my look to say: “I am young, Black, and beautiful.” I’d want it to reflect joy, pride, and the limitless creativity that lives in our culture and in who I am. Fashion is storytelling, and that would’ve been my story on the steps of the Met.
…as Black people, we’re often known for being bold, extravagant, and vibrant in how we dress and present ourselves. That energy and expressiveness are part of our cultural identity and celebration.
I also want to zero in on the exhibition itself. It featured a number of incredible African designers, from Thebe Magugu to Agbobly. Do you think this inclusion marked a meaningful step forward for African luxury fashion? And where do you see the industry going from here?
Yes, I think the inclusion of designers like Thebe Magugu and Agbobly in the exhibition marked a significant and long-overdue step forward for African luxury fashion. For too long, African designers have been innovators behind the curtain, influencing trends without being credited at the table. Seeing their work honored at the Met felt like a turning point—proof that African creativity isn’t just being noticed, it’s being respected.
And we can already see this shift playing out in real time. Fashion weeks in places like Lagos are growing rapidly in influence, and brands like Kilentar are redefining what African luxury looks like—merging tradition, craftsmanship, and contemporary style in ways that are both rooted and globally resonant.
The industry is moving toward a future where African designers aren’t just featured—they’re leading. The talent, vision, and authenticity are already there. Now, it’s about creating space, giving resources, and making sure the world continues to engage with African fashion on equal and lasting terms.
This year’s MET Gala made a powerful statement by appointing an all-Black male lineup of co-chairs—each known for redefining menswear in their own way. Additionally, the inclusion of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie on the host committee added a meaningful layer of cultural depth. How did you interpret this level of representation at such a globally influential fashion event? Do you see it as a real shift toward acknowledging Black and African contributions to fashion.
While I deeply appreciated the level of representation this year—with an all-Black male co-chair lineup and the inclusion of Chimamanda—I do feel that her presence wasn’t given the visibility or emphasis it truly deserved. For those of us who know, see, and recognize her impact, it was a powerful and meaningful moment. She brings an intellectual, cultural, and literary weight that enriched the theme beyond just aesthetics.
But to the wider audience, her involvement felt more like a quiet footnote than the bold statement it could have been. I don’t think her presence was communicated or celebrated enough in the broader coverage of the event. And that, to me, points to a lingering gap: representation isn’t just about putting people in the room—it’s also about giving them space to speak, shine, and shape the narrative in visible ways.
So while this year was a strong and important step toward acknowledging Black and African contributions to fashion, there’s still room to grow in how those contributions are framed and amplified for a global audience.
The 2023 MET was themed Karl Lagerfeld: A Line of Beauty. Naturally, it was made to celebrate one of the greatest and most respected minds in Western fashion. Speaking to this year’s theme, it was centered on the persona of the Black Dandy without attributing to any specific figure. Yet André Leon Talley, whose life and legacy embody that persona in every sense, wasn’t given a formal tribute, despite clear references to him by designers and celebrities. Why do you think the MET chose not to celebrate him with the same intentionality they showed Karl? Does this point to a deeper hesitation within fashion institutions to fully center Black icons, even at their own party?
This is a really good and thoughtful question, thank you for this.
What struck me most was that it was largely up to Black people themselves to honor and recognize André Leon Talley—through their styling, their presence, and their quiet nods to his legacy. And sadly, that isn’t too far from the reality we face day to day. Time and again, we see Black communities doing the emotional and cultural labor of remembering our own, because institutions either hesitate or refuse to do it for us.
It says a lot that during a theme so deeply connected to Talley’s aesthetic and influence, the institution still didn’t offer a formal tribute. It wasn’t a matter of relevance—it was a matter of choice. A choice not to center him in the way they centered Karl Lagerfeld just a year before.
That silence feels reflective of a broader pattern in fashion and beyond: Black icons are often celebrated informally, peripherally, or after the fact—rarely with the same scale and intentionality given to [their] white counterparts. And yet, even in that gap, Black creatives still showed up, still paid homage, still carried the weight of remembrance. That, in itself, is powerful, but it shouldn’t have to be that way.
Fashion has always been political, but the Met tends to sanitize things with spectacle. Do you think this year’s theme created space for deeper conversations around race, history, and cultural power or did the event ultimately play it safe?
Fashion is inherently political—especially when it comes to Black style, which has always been about more than aesthetics. It's about survival, resistance, joy, self-definition. So when the Met Gala chose a theme through the lens of Black dandyism and tailoring Black style, it had the potential to open up some truly powerful conversations about race, history, and cultural authorship.
And in some ways, it did. The fact that the theme even centered Blackness, without apology or dilution, was a major step. The inclusion of African designers, the all-Black male co-chairs, the archival pieces, and the influence of figures like André Leon Talley—those choices all held weight.
But at the same time, the Met Gala is still a spectacle—it’s curated, aestheticized, and highly controlled. It plays it safe by design. So while the theme itself had depth, the event didn’t always dig into that depth publicly. The storytelling, the education, the historical framing—those pieces often got lost in the glitz. The people who understood the references saw the deeper message, but for a broader audience, the conversation may have stopped at the clothes.
So yes, the theme created the space. But whether that space was truly used—especially by the institution itself—is still up for debate. It’s a reminder that intention is one thing, but follow-through is what really pushes culture forward.
Time and again, we see Black communities doing the emotional and cultural labor of remembering our own, because institutions either hesitate or refuse to do it for us.
Black style has always set the tone in global fashion, often without due credit. Do you think the Met’s tribute this year was a meaningful acknowledgment? And Do you think it will be remembered as a turning point for how Black fashion is perceived and historicized in elite spaces?
Seeing designers such as Telfar in the museum exhibit genuinely brought a tear to my eye. That’s what we want to see: people like us in the spaces they said we’d never belong. More than fashion, it was about visibility, about breaking generational ceilings, and about legacy. It was a reminder that Black designers, creatives, and storytellers aren’t just contributing to the culture—we are the culture.
So yes, this year’s Met felt like a meaningful acknowledgment. It was one of the first times Black fashion wasn’t just referenced—it was intentionally honored, curated, and celebrated. But whether it becomes a true turning point depends on what happens next. We need sustained investment, institutional change, and constant elevation of Black voices—not just when it’s trendy.
For me, seeing designers like Telfar and Thebe Magugu in that space was really emotional because it meant we’re not just being invited in, we’re being archived. We’re being remembered. And that’s how legacy begins.
In a time when public trust in elite institutions is shrinking, how do you see the Met Gala’s role evolving? Is it still relevant as a cultural bellwether or has it become a closed-off spectacle that mostly speaks to itself and the wealthy?
The [Met Gala’s] exclusivity and spectacle can make it feel like a closed-off party for the wealthy and powerful, disconnected from the everyday realities of most people. That said, the it still holds potential as a platform for meaningful cultural conversations, especially when its themes center on important issues like race, history, and identity. When it leverages its massive global visibility to amplify marginalized voices and challenge industry norms, it can remain relevant.
But for the Gala to truly evolve, it needs to move beyond surface-level celebration and spectacle. It must commit to ongoing, systemic change, using its influence to support diverse creatives not just on one night, but year-round. Without that, it risks becoming an insular event that speaks mainly to itself and loses its broader cultural resonance.
I also believe the Met’s evolution depends on opening the doors wider to emerging designers and creatives—people like Wisdom Kaye, who may not yet have the traditional status or wealth but whose impact on fashion and culture is undeniable.
If the Gala can give these creatives the liberty to showcase their gifts on such a prestigious platform, it would shift the event from being just an elite spectacle to a true celebration of innovation and diversity in fashion. That kind of shift could help rebuild trust, make the event feel more accessible, and ensure it stays relevant as a cultural bellwether in [our] ever-changing world.
If you could give the MET a theme yourself, unfiltered with no Vogue approval, what would it be, and why?
Oh this is such a good question, I am overwhelmed oh my. I’ll provide two answers.
A serious theme which navigates Deconstructing Luxury and exploring how streetwear, DIY culture, and grassroots creativity have transformed luxury fashion. I would also love a theme that focuses on the unsung heroes such as the stylists, the hair and makeup artist. I want a theme that pushes creativity.
An unserious answer would be something superhero themed, showcasing how much [of a role] fashion plays in storytelling and the importance of costume design and styling from the heroes to the villains to the anti heroes.
Finally, what are you hoping to see at the next MET?
I’m hoping to see Wisdom Kaye xx.
It was such an honour to answer your questions! Thank you so much for the opportunity ❤️❤️