Yeah, I was a punk. I’m that old. I haven’t been to the Met yet and my invite to the Ball got lost in the mail, but I can tell from afar (& by the sight of poor Madonna in tartan hotpants) whatever opened at the Metropolitan Museum of Art today, it is not punk.
I know, I know, it’s punk to COUTURE. But that is a complete nonsense. The entire point of punk was: make it up as you go along—including clothes. It was found fashion. Ratty sweaters, workwear, 50s ski pants (or was that just me?), holes, zips, buckles, vintage, vintage and more vintage. This is no newsflash, everyone knows how punk was dressed. But what’s dispiriting is the soulless in-yer-face commercial glossyglam monetizing marketing blablabla around this show. The Anna-izing.
It could have been a call for a gently anarchic messing up of things but instead it’s: “this is how we made it safe,” endorsed by interchangeable famous people in $5000 black gowns. It claims to celebrate freedom, but it’s lily-livered obedience to the status quo. The opposite of punk. I guess you never really grow out of it. —Kate Sekules