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You may know that Vogue editors are always on-site at the Met gala, but contrary to popular belief, we’re there to work—not to party! Yes, we get to dress up, but we also have jobs to do: Some of us are stationed around the museum to direct guests through the exhibit; others work with photo and video crews to create Vogue’s social media assets; and dozens more are on their laptops covering the event in real time for Vogue.com. If you’re really lucky, though, your job will be something entirely different. The most coveted role is the one I’ve had for years: reporting on the red carpet.
Every year, The Met’s grand staircase gets a makeover with enormous white tents, a massive “red carpet” (though it’s rarely red—2019’s Camp: Notes on Fashion carpet was baby pink) and hedges along each side. Black-clad photographers and TV crews set up behind the hedges at the bottom of the staircase, while reporters are situated closer to the top; usually Vogue correspondents are right by the entrance so we can see celebrities as they head inside (and borrow them for a quick on-camera interview, if possible).
Once the night really begins, it’s always even louder and more high-energy than I remember. The first 30 minutes are pretty calm—the night’s hosts tend to arrive first (this year, it will be Timotheé Chalamet, Amanda Gorman, Naomi Osaka, and Billie Eilish) along with Met gala chairwoman Anna Wintour. But soon the carpet is teeming with celebs, and no matter how quickly you shoot or take notes, it’s impossible to keep up. This is sensory overload to the most fabulous degree: There’s Kim! Wait, there’s Lily Rose! Who made Kendall’s dress? Is that Billy Porter being carried in on a bed…? Some stars walk the carpet quickly, eager to get inside. But occasionally you get a blessing in the form of Lady Gaga, who spent more time on the carpet in 2019 than any celebrity I’ve seen—all the better to show off her four Brandon Maxwell looks.
Aside from getting quotes from celebs, a big part of my job is simply texting updates to my colleagues in the “war room.” My colleague Steff Yotka edits Vogue.com’s live blog, and we probably send each other a dozen Slacks a minute: I’ll let her know when someone has arrived, what they’re wearing, who they’re with, or how they’re mingling with other guests. Often Steff will inquire about the night’s biggest names, who are typically the last to arrive: In 2016, it was Beyoncé who finally stole the show in latex Givenchy.
It all happens so fast, but in reality, I’m on the carpet for a few hours. (That means comfortable shoes are key; my surprising go-to’s are strappy three-inch sandals by Sam Edelman. I think I could run in them!) When the carpet wraps, it’s my chance to snap a few selfies with my coworkers and head back to the war room, where I’ll help finish up the live blog and re-hydrate. Once we know the guests are finishing up dinner in the Temple of Dendur, we’ll make our way through The Met’s lobby—always decorated to the nines and bursting with flowers—to take a few more photos and catch a glimpse of the night’s show. We still aren’t sure who’s on the lineup this time, but after two years without the Met gala, I have a feeling it will be pretty major. I can’t wait—and yes, I’m already planning my outfit.
