When the Met Gala announced its 2025 theme — “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style” — almost everyone had to take a lesson in history. This one particularly took us back to American history and frankly a dark past where a large chunk of society, a race in particular, was oppressed for years by the other majority of the country.
Unlike the whimsical or fantastical themes of recent years — Karl Lagerfeld: A Line of Beauty (2023), In America: An Anthology of Fashion (2022), and Camp: Notes on Fashion (2019) — 2025’s Superfine: Tailoring Black Style offers cultural weight. We were not dressing for fantasy, but for legacy. It wasn’t about escapism, it was about history, identity, and the politics of being seen.
The Concept and conception
The figure of the Black dandy during the Harlem Renaissance was not merely about flamboyance or fashion — it was a deliberate assertion of dignity in a society that routinely denied it. Much like European dandyism once served as a form of rebellion against aristocratic norms, Black Dandyism in early 20th-century America became a quiet but powerful form of resistance. Through tailored elegance, these individuals redefined what it meant to be visible, confident, and in control — all within a system designed to marginalise them.
While often associated with the United States, the phenomenon is by no means confined to it. Across Latin America, the Caribbean, and South America, Black individuals have used sartorial expression to carve out space for identity, intellect, and autonomy. This global presence is what makes Black Dandyism so rich — it is not just about style, but about subverting imposed limitations through visual power.
Writers like Jason Jules, particularly in works such as Black Ivy, have also drawn attention to how fashion became a subtle yet sharp tool of resistance. In these narratives, the Black dandy is not just a fashion figure — they are a cultural disruptor, challenging the monolithic portrayals of Black identity by appearing poised, polished, and fully self-directed.
Historically, figures such as Raúl Guerra of Buenos Aires, W.E.B. Du Bois of Atlanta, and Josephine Baker of St. Louis embodied this spirit of defiance with elegance. Perhaps one of the most striking examples is Julius Soubise, born into slavery on the Caribbean island of Saint Kitts in 1754. At the age of ten, he was taken to Britain and eventually freed by Catherine Douglas, Duchess of Queensberry, who treated him not as a servant, but as family.
This extraordinary twist of fate afforded him access to elite British society — an arena almost entirely inaccessible to most Black individuals of the time. Julius not only learned aristocratic pursuits such as fencing and equestrianism, but navigated high society with such charm and finesse that he became a minor celebrity of the Georgian era. His story is a compelling reminder that Black Dandyism has always been about more than aesthetics. It is about visibility, agency, and the refusal to be confined by societal expectations.
What the theme means for today’s fashion
Contemporary tailoring has seen a return in recent years — boxy Y2K blazers, genderless suiting, and oversized coats all signal a hunger for structure. But this Met Gala forced a question: who decides what tailoring means, and what does it mean to you? The “for you” part of the theme is where they wanted their guests to explore self-identity and expression. In today’s context, the Superfine theme can live far beyond the Met steps. Designers are already reimagining tailoring not just in terms of fit, but in terms of authorship — who gets to cut, sew, and be seen. We’re seeing gender-fluid cuts, Black-owned ateliers prioritising ancestral craft, and stylists using tailoring as a tool of reclamation.