Dressing the Uninvited: Reflecting on Fashion, Power, and Presence by Styling an Exquisite Corpse
Letter 004
I’m going to keep it a buck– the Met Gala is already kicking my ass. As I mentioned in last week’s letter, there is a difference between styling as a specialized craft– an unencumbered creative pursuit–and fashion editing as a commercial creative practice. Between the two lies a whole new beast: VIP and celebrity styling. That ‘ish is DIFFERENT. The stakes are higher, the visibility is unimaginably vast, and there are many more voices in the room (to say nothing of the ones on their couches, in the comments, sickles in hand, and ready to riot). The navigation of internal and external politics alone is not for the faint of heart– my admiration for folks who do this full time and flawlessly holds no earthly bounds. Shout out to my own celebrity sherpa and consigliere, Shiona Turini, who’s agreed to join me for a ‘Stylist on Stylist’ interview series right here on Brain Matter in the near future– once she can tear herself away from outfitting a literal world tour for our greatest living performer (*extremely undebatable). If you feel so inclined to learn from the master, hit the chat with some questions!
But back to Letter 0004– while I will not be attending this year’s gala, my work will. And that fact stirs up complicated feelings, not least of which is frustration. You’ll see more than one guest styled by me on the carpet, and you’ll read one of my essays in the annual exhibition’s catalog. I’m so excited for all of this work to be out in the world, but I’m also plagued by this question: what does it mean to have a seat at the table if the table is not in the room?
As a stylist, I am confronted with the real responsibility to engage with this Met Gala with reverence for the black male contribution to fashion, while also navigating the politics of honoring a theme that excludes black women. And because the labor of black women is so rarely met with an equal measure of celebration, I found myself drawn to crafting this letter around the unfulfillable fantasy of what this moment could be for us– an exquisite corpse composed of all of my ideals, hopes, and dreams for this Met Gala carpet.
The thesis: How would I dress Octavia Butler for the Met Gala?
HEAR ME OUT: Suspending logic to sidestep the very real doubt that Butler would a.) be interested in attending the Met Gala, or b.) be invited– since thought leadership isn’t, like, the main criterion for the guestlist– and instead allowing for a kind of parallel universe wherein Met Gala attendance wasn’t predicated on a designer affiliation and what one wears doesn’t determine the table you’re assigned, Butler is a perfect case study.
The way she– a queer, intersectional feminist science fiction author and scholar– might approach a dress code like “Tailored for You,” attached to an exhibition theme like “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style,” is endlessly exciting to me, though not without its challenges.
Good thing I have a masochistic tendency towards the pursuit of impossibility, and a kink for problem solving.
The museum’s website offers this overview of the Spring Exhibition:
“The Costume Institute’s spring 2025 exhibition presents a cultural and historical examination of Black style over three hundred years through the concept of dandyism. In the 18th-century Atlantic world, a new culture of consumption, fueled by the slave trade, colonialism, and imperialism, enabled access to clothing and goods that indicated wealth, distinction, and taste. Black dandyism sprung from the intersection of African and European style traditions.”
Okay, challenge accepted:
THE FOUNDATION:
Subversion and appropriation. Resistance via aesthetics. I can dig it... Immediately, I think Butler would fuck with Lee McQueen. Both were prolific world-builders– architects of alternate realities possessing the ability to seduce through their work. They get into the nooks and crannies of our brains and convince us of their prophecies. They met the darkness of their moments with a promise of light.
You better believe I’m beelining for the archive of McQueen’s work for Givenchy– and begging, borrowing, or stealing (what did y'all think “by any means necessary” meant? *Black power fist) this Spring 1999 Victorian-gothic corseted jacket and petticoat– McQueen’s own flirtation with imperialist dress codes.
Beyond the symbiosis of historical reference and theme, there is also a conceptual anchor that pulls me into this look. Corsetry is an oppressive concept in and of itself– It’s about binding and restricting, controlling. In the context of this Met, there is a certain political poetry to a corset. I’d use it as an opportunity to discuss what it means to be squeezed into the narrow dictates of taste and beauty standards we, as a society, have ascribed to spaces like the red carpet. I’d think about being bound—unable to speak.
And how, for such a poignant gala, we are unlikely to see this platform utilized for true politics. I imagine what Butler might say about being unable to breathe in the year 2025. There is poetry in all of it.
Then, of course, there is the consideration that corsets are HOT– and I wonder whether she’d want to be seen in that way.
Because our phones are never not listening to us, I stumbled across this note in my feed while mindlessly scrolling Substack instead of actually seeking an answer to what Butler might have said about sex appeal– beyond her skepticism of the ways in which it operates in service of upholding white supremacist beauty ideals.
For the sake of time, I’ll leave that to the comments and simply leave you with this unverified but deeply fascinating list:
THE FOIL:
It would be insane not to at least attempt to fill the gulf left by the absence of black women in this discourse. After all, black women not only belong in this conversation: we ARE the conversation. Especially when it comes to “freaking” fashion for our own survival in worlds designed to exclude us.
Enter: the brilliant Torishéju Dumi, a Central Saint Martins-trained menswear designer whose emergence on the fashion scene has stirred in me hope that young black women will continue to make space for themselves in this industry no matter how harshly it treats us.
Torishéju’s evening skirt– a punky but elegant tartan– adds another layer of anti-colonial reference, the perfect foil to McQueen’s fantasy. She also frequently works in deadstock fabric in a bid for circularity, which– given Butler’s prophecies around climate catastrophe– I imagine would be a priority.
I’d be lying if I said this entire fictional look didn’t ACTUALLY start with Torishéju. I can’t think of a designer more suited to this year’s theme. In fact, unbeknownst to me at the time of typing, Law Roach also connected Torishéju and Lee McQueen in recent work, explaining to the internet that his placement of the designer’s fishtail skirt and black-tailed jacket in Vogue’s May ‘25 Met Issue was inspired by an image of McQueen and Sarah Jessica Parker on the steps of the Met for the 2006 Gala for "AngloMania: Tradition and Transgression in British Fashion."
The universe is trippy.
THE DELICIOUS DETAILS:
As for jewelry, I love L'enchanteur and Bernard James for the ears and hands. Both designers are alumni of The Fashion Trust US prize –the former won in 2024, and the latter were finalists this year– and both work with semi-precious and precious stones and metals. Gold is just simply made for black skin… not strictly in a Diamonds from Sierra Leone type of way, but in the color theory way.
If the existing images of Octavia are any indication, our HMU moment would be minimal. Framing the face in gold, on a carpet with that much hard flash wattage, brings a certain after-glow/shimmer to the face. Plus, we’re supporting black designers everywhere we can here!
The shoes… are a question. I don’t see a heel for her. The work of interrogating comfort (or discomfort, rather) is done by the corset. I’m digging the idea of a combat boot. Even though she was a lover, not a fighter, I like the visual. I like what wearing the boot on this carpet means: once crushed beneath them, now we’re comin’ for ya necks.
This pair is a collaboration by recent CSM graduate and exciting new fashion voice Tracelline Pratt and Dr. Martens. It’s a risk… but my girl takes risks. There is no evidence to suggest otherwise when it comes to a black-tie event.
Finally, for no other reason than she is the perma-reference, the Whoopi Goldberg of it all– I’m compelled to include bitchy little sunglasses, also by L'enchanteur.
Et Voila! An incredible exercise in remote styling, moodboarding, and procrastinating!
But enough with the dreaming. Now, back to the very real work of getting my girls to that carpet. PRAY FOR ME.
Suffice it to say these essays are changing my life!!
An essential take!!