Mass-market madness

The annual Met Gala has been called the “Superbowl of Fashion.” So why are so many stars showing up in mass-market brands?

The annual Met Gala, hosted by Anna Wintour and held the other night in New York, has been called the “Superbowl of Fashion.” Ginnifer Goodwin, it appears, showed up in her practice jersey.

The dress looked gorge enough: emerald silk, thirties-ish, like Knightley’s poster gown in Atonement. It was contemporary, too, with the side cut-outs I so enjoy. In fact, at first twitpic, I gasped in the recognition of a gown I myself would wear. Honest, I would buy that gown in a heart’s half-beat if I could afford it.

Turns out I could and there goes the thrill . The gown was custom-made for Goodwin, as so many Met gowns are, by that renowned English couturier: Topshop. No, I mean it. Turns out it was done by the designers of Topshop Unique, the pricier, less knock-off-y house line that has its own runway shows at London Fashion Week. As @MissHoax told me on Twitter, there’s a version of it in stores now, but it’s very unlike.

Jessica Szohr of Gossip Girl, on the other hand, plucked her Topshop-for-the-Met dress right off the rack, or so it’s been reported. Really, though? I had my mom make my prom dress because I didn’t want anyone to have the same; the Met Gala is prom times a million plus social darwinism. Only the queens attend. I cannot think of a judgier place, outside of, like, the Supreme Court. What I mean is: Topshop must’ve paid Goodwin and Szohr some goodly sums to wear commoner’s clothes. And why not?

For a designer/house/brand, getting worn to Met isn’t like advertising in Vogue; it is advertising in Vogue. Topshop’s mass-market product placement, inspired, perhaps, by Sharon Stone’s Gap turtleneck at the 1996 Oscars, isn’t a new idea. But at this hautest level, it’s only newly possible. The powers that be have accepted fast fashion, or simply sighed and resigned themselves to it. Either way, the times, they have a-changed.

Praise Coco Chanel for the high-low mix: she’d wear an authentic fisherman’s sweater with her own fashions, purposely getting her classes confused. Vogue took ages to catch up; when Anna Wintour took over the American title, she put blue jeans on the cover and people freaked. Fade to now, and Michelle Obama is the new Jackie Kennedy in J. Crew, hailed for her ability to wear Thakoon and shop at Target on the same day.

SamCam, as the Brits call their PM’s wife, must be watching. A self-fashioned ambassador for British designers, she must’ve discomfited a few of them when she wore $60 Aldo shoes to some wedding. Subtle way of saying “who gives a shit?” Or a push for democratization in fashion?

If democracy’s your jam, then yes, promoting mass fashion sends “the right message.” But if you’re a celebrity, what gives? Natalie Portman in H&M and Beyonce in the High Street dresses: they’re just stealing our clothes. I don’t care if celebs don’t pay for a $50 dress or a $50,000 dress. They’re supposed to wear the clothes we can’t, so we can at least see them. That’s why Daphne Guiness in her fragile white-swan McQueen was the undisputed winner of the Met Gala. Stars should be like that — distant, glittering, unattainable and preferably quiet — not like us.

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Posted in Vogue Style