She likes all your favourite bands, and a few you haven’t heard of yet. She is unteachable, unethical, and unstoppably wonderful. She is every male writers’ favourite poorly thought out plot device, now legendary, the Manic Pixie Dream Girl. Famous examples of MPDG’s are Ramona Flowers (Scott Pilgrim), Clementine (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind), and anything Zooey Deschanel has ever been in. These girls are interesting, creative, wilful, charismatic and within themselves often complex and invaluable characters. However, their existence remains attached to a man for whom she exists as a plot point, used to guide him to a better life, or else some other form of masculine clarity.
Unexpected. Flamboyant. Eccentric. These words sprung to mind as celebrities waltzed their way up the pink carpet of this year’s Met Gala. The theme was Notes on Camp, and the guests took it upon themselves to explore the cross section where fashion meets insanity. Standouts included Lady Gaga, who wore no less than 4 different outfits walking the carpet alone. Jared Leto finished his outfit with a bust of his own head, Celine Dion was a vision in dripping silver in a custom Oscar de la Renta, finished with a towering headpiece by Noel Stewart. Like all years, there are those who chose not to dress to theme. Some opted for the easiest of choices, many gentlemen choosing to wear a classic black suit to an evening that called for anything but. Given previous years reactions to those celebrities who chose to forgo the theme, this year saw more invitees in appropriate costume stepping forward to embrace Camp. There were those who dared, and those who did not. However, some of the most interesting looks of the evening fell into the background. Camp allows for and excess of excess, the very opposite of subtlety. Yet, for this theme, some of the most interesting and aware looks could only be understood through their small details. Thus, some appearances were forgotten, which should not have been. Here are the outfits that require a second look.
“Don’t worry about it… tonight isn’t the night for dropping bombs”, my friend said these words to me from across a small but crowded dancefloor. Me (on my third glass of cheap red), replied “just tell me, I’m in a good mood, I can take it!”. At the time I thought my mate had just broken up with their partner and couldn’t understand why their eyes refused to meet mine, or why their hands fiddled in front of them.