Listen up, darlings—Ms. Rizzlerina is here to razzle, dazzle, and serve you the haute-est tea from fashion’s wildest, most glamorous prom: the Met Gala 2025! And honey, this year’s theme? A tailor-made triumph: “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style.” Iconic doesn’t even begin to cover it. Think razor-sharp lines, melanin magic, ancestral craftsmanship, and enough drip to flood Fifth Avenue. Yes, the Black style bible just got a gilded, made-to-measure edition—and the A-list showed up stitched and snatched.
Now grab a flute of Prosecco and your front-row seat, ’cause we are diving headfirst into the velvet-lined vortex of high fashion and hot gossip.
First up: Beyoncé. (You heard me. Queen B. Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter.) She swept onto the carpet in a custom LaQuan Smith gown that whispered Harlem Renaissance but strutted ‘future royalty.’ All sequins, sculpted hips, and a soul-deep nod to Dapper Dan. She didn’t walk, darling—she glided like a couture comet, leaving a trail of gasping paparazzi and crumbled egos.
Then came the king of calculated chaos, Lil Nas X, reborn as a walking, talking anthology of Black tailors past. His suit, a patchwork of legacy fabrics, featured hidden tributes to Black designers who changed the game. Oh, and underneath? A sheer corseted shirt with nipple pasties spelling “STYLE IS HISTORY.” Bravo, baby. The drama, the intellect, the glitter nipple font—I live.
Now, y’all… Zendaya. Whew. Z snapped harder than a clapback on Twitter. Clad in a structured black velvet number by Christopher John Rogers, she looked like a baroness from the future who invented style and conquered space. With a silhouette sharp enough to slice through weak reputations, sis stood like Mona Lisa’s cooler, richer, more TikTok-viral cousin.
Usher, my dashing snack of a serenade, rocked a Telfar tux with an exaggerated lapel game so strong, I almost called my therapist. Every stitch said “legacy,” every step whispered, “You wish,” and that smirk? A custom order from Confidence Couture™️. The man didn’t even blink—he just radiated rhythm and grace in tailor’s chalk and black satin.
Let’s not forget our rising renaissance queen: Coco Jones. Dawning a Moshood-inspired ensemble with Ankara appliqués in violet and obsidian, she channeled both Sunday sermons and Saturday night soul. She’s giving “I drink my tea with side-eye and awards season with a smirk.” An Afro-futuristic princess in a ballroom world.
And if you thought the men weren’t gonna bring the heat, please remove your orthopedic red carpet blinders, baby. Colman Domingo came suited up in a gold-threaded trench over his Basquiat-tailored tux by Ozwald Boateng that screamed, “Poetry in pocket squares.” A walking verse. I’m not crying—I’m misting glitter.
This year’s Met wasn’t just a fashion moment; it was a reclamation runway. Every silhouette told a story. Every lapel was stitched with defiance. Every train hailed from a long line of artistry that finally got its call to the throne. It was Black style celebrated in its majestic fullness—tailored, textured, and unstoppable.
So loves, if you weren’t on that carpet, I hope you were on your screen, because history just cut itself a new pattern. And you better believe the style gods took notes.
Until next time, keep your champagne chilled and your side-eye sharper than your stilettos.
Stay fabulous, and let the gossip roll!
— Ms. Rizzlerina 💋
