The 2025 Met Gala was dandy, indeed. The annual fundraiser’s theme, “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style,” paid homage to Black dandyism, the movement intermixing European-style fashion with African diasporic influences that centered around men’s tailored clothing and wearing self-confidence as its greatest accessory.

As Jidenna reminded us back in 2015, Black dandyism is more than a fashion statement; it was a cultural revolution, holding a temporal mirror to the significance of Black style in a Westernized society crafted to dull its impact. Last night, the thematic structure of this year’s arguably biggest night in fashion invoked something special, especially through the lens of present-day political repression sweeping the nation. It felt personal.

And while there’s been a welcome barrage of coverage of the outfits that Black actors and tastemakers chose to wear on the blue carpet, it was their crowns that stood out most to me — more specifically, the hairstyles and culturally significant headwear.

The symbolic origins of Black hair date back to ancient Africa, when hair was used to convey social status and class (much like it does here and now). Hair served as a visual representation of cultural identity and pride, which compelled European settlers to force enslaved Africans, specifically women, to shave their heads as a method of dehumanization and cultural erasure. Since then, the reclamation of Black hair has transcended throughout American history with iconic cultural movements such as the 1960s Civil Rights Movement and the natural hair movement of the 2000s.

The versatility of Black hair exceeds the commonly recognized styles of box braids and Afros. In the 1940s, exhibitions at the Bronner Brothers International Beauty Show in Atlanta accentuated the ethereal evolution of Black hair while teaching cosmetologists essential skills. It set the stage for a modern perspective of Black hair and what it signifies to the people who style and wear it.

But with centuries of normalized oppression undermining the sanctity of Black culture (as well as egregious cultural appropriation) comes a continuing struggle that’s deemed actual legislation necessary to protect us from hair discrimination.

And the headwear deserves a hat’s off too. In our culture, hats are a deeply rooted staple and in some instances, a rejection of ethnic suppression. During the 18th century, our women ancestors were mandated by law to cover their hair with tignons, large head scarves made of West African material. Later, Black women transformed them into a symbol of resistance, decorating the headwear with detailed fabrics and jewels. On Black men (and later, women and gender-nonconforming people), top hats were seen as a symbol of wealth and respect in a society that constantly attempted to rob them of it.

Before I began watching the Met Gala, I already had a preconception of what to expect, researching the theme and its historical origins prior to launch day. I imagined the tailored suits, ties and top hats, and even the occasional durag for a splash of modernity— I just prayed I only saw my people wearing them, but I understood that there would always be one non-melanated individual eager to tuck their 1A waves under those silk caps.

A few of my favorites who took extra effort to make hair and headwear part of conversation about Black dandyism and contemporary Black respectability politics included Teyana Taylor, who not only stunned in a crimson red cape and custom three-piece suit, but also combined the past and present in her hairstyle, revealing a satin durag under a feathered top hat.

A$AP Rocky traded in his box braids for more intricately designed kiss-curl braids, which were a popular hairstyle during the 1920s, notably worn by figures like Josephine Baker. Met Gala first-timer Doechii wore her natural ’fro to the event, an undeniably classic ode to Black culture and her roots — as well as a rejection of the persisting onslaught of Eurocentric standards.

Besides the timeless kiss curl look, bobs were seen as a staple hairstyle in the era of Black Dandyism, and Tessa Thompson’s textured bob appeared effortless under a sparkled black top hat.

The Met Gala may be a night where the wannabe Miranda Priestlys of the internet judge attendees’ outfits, but the theme called for much more intention. While some truly showed up and others failed to hit the mark, the theme emphasized the importance of a comprehensive look — which, as the original Black Dandies knew, always included accessories and a way of carrying yourself. Last night, the intricately crafted hairstyles and cultural headwear reminded me that everything we decide to wear exudes a fearless aura that truly can’t be faked.