I’ll start by saying—I loved it.

The looks, the history, the homage to Black tailoring, the celebration of dandyism. Watching the 2025 Met Gala unfold felt like something overdue finally landing in the spotlight. Seeing the art of Black craftsmanship, elegance, and sharp suiting honored on one of the world’s most-watched red carpets? That felt good. That felt right.

But let’s be honest—it also felt like... 2025? Seriously?

This is what I mean.

It took two thousand and twenty five years of Black excellence—centuries of Black folks making style out of resistance, dignity out of denial, and precision out of scarcity—for the Met Gala to finally center this legacy? To finally say, “Wow, look at this genius”?

We’ve been saying that. We’ve been living that.

Black tailoring has always been high art. From the Harlem Renaissance to the Nation of Islam, from zoot suits to Sunday church suits, from André Leon Talley to the streets of Detroit—dandyism has always been more than fashion. It’s been survival. It’s been defiance. It’s been a statement: You will see me, even when you refuse to value me.

So yes, I’m proud. The tribute was beautiful. The clothes were stunning. The Black designers deserved every second of that spotlight. But I also have to laugh—because the institutions that ignored this legacy for so long are now racing to drape themselves in it like they discovered something new. They didn’t. They’re just catching up.

And let’s be clear—this isn’t just about fashion.

It’s about who gets archived, who gets celebrated, and who gets stolen from. It’s about the slow, painful process of cultural memory being corrected—on runways, on red carpets, in museums, and in our schools. So while I’m here for the looks, I’m also here to ask: What took so long? Who gets left out next? And who do we still need to make room for?

Because it’s not just about Black tailoring. It’s about the systems that pretend legacy doesn’t exist until it fits their timeline—or their budget.

And that’s exactly what I’m talking about.