Met Gala isn't frivolous. Fashion matters more than ever. | Opinion

Every first Monday in May, The Metropolitan Museum of Art's Costume Institute hosts a charity event and fundraiser. Every year, its dissenters grow louder and louder. Deemed the biggest night in fashion, The Met Gala hosts an elite class of celebrities, public figures and socialites all draped in custom garments by legendary fashion houses – usually in accordance to the yearly theme.

The Costume Institute’s spring 2026 exhibition, “Costume Art," explores the “centrality of the dressed body." This year's red carpet dress code was "Fashion is Art," a rather broad and imaginative theme explored to varying degrees of success.

Some of the best looks came from those who incorporated visual art into wearable fashions. Influencer Emma Chamberlain stunned in a custom Mugler dress that resembled a Van Gogh painting. Life imitated art on an Ashi Studio dress worn by Lebanese jeweler Sabine Getty. The 18th-century-inspired, hand-painted corset resembled Getty's torso and hands, down to the jewelry. Model Anok Yai's golden hair and teardrops possessed the haunting beauty of a Renaissance painting.

Others turned striking looks by bringing existing art to life. Actress Hunter Schafer's floral Prada dress was inspired by Gustav Klimt’s 1912/1913 painting "Mäda Primavesi." Singer-songwriter Gracie Abrams wore a gilded Klimt-inspired creation. Madonna, aided by a small ensemble of ethereally dressed girls, brought to life “The Temptations of Saint Anthony Fragment II,” a relatively obscure work by surrealist painter Leonora Carrington. Artist Amy Sherald collaborated with Thom Browne to recreate her own painting, "Miss Everything (Unsuppressed Deliverance)."

Others took a different approach, centering the human body: The Kardashian-Jenner sisters' bodycon, nipple-detailed bodices; Jeremy Pope's anatomy-inspired, vintage Vivienne Westwood ensemble. Robert Wun's sculptural designs. Teyana Taylor's sterling fringe dress.

And, of course, Beyoncé had her highly anticipated return to The Met Gala in a sparkling, silver skeleton dress by Olivier Rousteing.

But as economic hardship abounds, it's difficult to find enjoyment in watching wealthy celebrities strut around in expensive fabrics. Why should we care about a bunch of rich people parading around the red carpet in gaudy fashions for a museum inaccessible to most Americans, while many struggle to afford groceries or put gas in their cars?

The Met Gala is all a bit of vanity fair. Its opulence can read garish. But to dismiss it, and the entire fashion industry by extension, as meaningless and unnecessary disregards the importance of preserving fashion history – especially now – and needlessly delegitimizes an art form that’s as personal and political as any other.

Anti-fashion bias runs deep

Fashion has historically been perceived as frivolous. This is mainly due to its association with the wealthy class, who, since the beginning of civilization, were the only ones with the time and resources to invest in a luxurious outward appearance. Still, working-class people used fashion as a means of crossing social barriers and signaling respect.

In 1761, The Annual Register recorded that "dress, fashion and affectation have put all on an equality. … It is difficult to tell the milliner from her ladyship, my lord from his groom."

Moreover, there's an undercurrent of misogyny that runs through our societal anti-fashion bias. Fashion – or merely caring about the clothes you put on your body – has been historically coded as feminine. Women who devote time to curating their personal style are seen as shallow and men who do the same are demasculinized.

It’s especially easy to dismiss The Met Gala as a moneyed people's folly due to the exorbitant cost of attendance. In 2025, the entry cost was $75,000 for individuals and $350,000 for tables, usually paid for by high fashion houses that invite and dress celebrities as their guests. Tickets for this summer’s World Cup run upward of $10,000, with $1 per purchase donated to charity. Should that be done away with, too?

Through The Met Gala, the museum has been able to raise millions of dollars to further its mission of preserving art and fashion. Last year’s gala raised a record $31 million, and a decade's worth of donations tucked away in an endowment could make the Costume Institute not as reliant on the gala in the near future.

Getting dressed is political

Since most of us plebeians aren't frequenting high-profile galas, getting dressed every morning can seem like a mindless procedure. But, every split-second decision – skirt or pants, sweater or blouse, boots or sneakers – is a reflection of the wearer. Our clothes are how we present ourselves to the world; how we signal our interests and beliefs.

Even those who see themselves as fashion-averse and lend little care to getting dressed have a style, or lack thereof, that reflects their apathy. A haphazardly donned, lumpy blue sweater picked from a pile of stuff still means something to you – simply because you chose to put it on.

As a political act, fashion can challenge conformity and speak against injustice. Singer and actress Janelle Monáe wore a Christian Siriano dress that married mossy wildlife with electric circuits and wires. When asked about the meaning of her outfit, Monáe replied: "Balance must be restored."

With the rise in data centers wreaking havoc on our environment, it's not far-fetched to assume she's calling for a balance between the natural world and the technological one.

Fashion choices can also expose hypocrisy, like when the wife of a famously America-first, China-last politician reportedly wears a dress from a shady Chinese clothing company to a public-facing event.

Of course the fashion industry isn’t perfect. The rampant sizeism and strict body politic forces women to aspire to unhealthy and unrealistic body standards. Fast fashion produces 11 million tons of textile waste each year. This year’s Met Gala is sponsored by the devil himself, Jeff Bezos.

But reducing The Met Gala to nothing more than a grotesque display of wealth misses the bigger picture. In a country where arts programs are decimated by budget cuts and history is being rewritten, efforts and institutions that defend both are more important than ever.

Kofi Mframa is a columnist and digital producer for USA TODAY and the USA TODAY Network.