The world’s fourth-richest man and his bride cannot catch a break! After writing a check for ten million bucks to co-sponsor this year’s Met Gala, Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sanchez Bezos have found themselves on the receiving end of a cacophony of criticism for all the usual reasons: elitism, billionaire backlash, cleavage, the fact that the two of them are just so… icky.
This derision and backlash grew in the run-up to the main event, sustained itself throughout the night thanks to 'counter-programming' (and even an attempt from the labor organizer Chris Smalls to, reportedly, storm the storied red carpet) and has continued unabated in the days since. That it’s still a talking point when we could be discussing any number of “naked dresses” is the point.
Speaking as the world’s-fifth richest man, I have also had to deal with my share of haters, so I get it. And surely Jeff and Lauren anticipated the vitriol. (Bezos even skipped the red carpet proceedings; Sanchez Bezos did not.) My question: do they deserve it?
Why target the Bezos’ (Bezoses? Bozos?) when the Met Gala has been exactly the same elitist event both loved and reviled by America’s peasant classes since Anna Wintour took it over and grew it into the spectacle it is today? What makes them a target instead of any of the other bold-faced and, at times, controversial names that have chaired—or even attended—the Gala in years past?
Is it because they don’t come from the world of the arts? That they’re trying to “buy their way” into the cool kids’ club, as some suggested? Is it something more Marie Antoinette-ish?
Or is it because Bezos allowed himself to be co-opted by the Trump administration in order to secure more government contracts for his stupid rocket company rather than choose to deploy his billions to defend democracy, as he suggested he would do when he purchased the Washington Post? Democracy, the Met Gala criticism suggests, doesn’t die in darkness. It dies in the glare of flashbulbs.
This year feels like a particularly egregious time to drop 10 mil on a Gatsby-esque costume party—and that’s before the hair and makeup bill—because of, you know, everything. It’s also a touch embarrassing to compare Jeff’s paltry charitable giving—approximately $4.7 billion, representing about 2% of his total wealth—to that of his first wife, Mackenzie Scott, who donated $7.2 billion in 2025 alone.
And yet, for all of that, I can’t help but think that getting mad at them for sponsoring the Met Gala is like getting mad at dogs for eating deer poop. Billionaires and dogs both do things that make regular humans go, “Ew.”
Because here’s the thing: the problem isn’t them—or just them. They’re only the beneficiaries of American capitalism run amok. A proper country would have a progressive taxation system that automatically funds the kinds of social services to which many of us believe the Bezos’ ought to be donating. A proper country would ensure that all of the hundreds of thousands of people who work for Bezos earn a living wage and don’t have to pee in water bottles during their delivery driver shifts. If that means Jeff has a few less billies, I’m ok with that.
Heidi, if you want to dress as a worm, go for it, sweetie. Bad Bunny, if you want to sit in a make-up chair for hours to look like somebody’s abuelo, fine by me. And Lauren, if you want to drop eight figures in order to get invited to a fancy party, it’s a bit cringe but whatever. I don’t really care. My problem is that America knows how to razzle-dazzle ‘em, but can’t be bothered to educate ‘em.
Must our ruling class have so little class? Perhaps not when the White House is currently swathed in Home Depot gold tat. The inevitable result is we end up with the annual grotesquerie known as the Met Gala. A moment for the fabulous to celebrate themselves for doing nothing more than being fabulous. Should we be surprised when our more grotesque citizens wish to attend?
There have always been moments of terrible excess among the world’s most privileged. They’re usually followed by spasms of head-chopping and societal upheaval. I don’t think we’re likely to see guillotines being wheeled into Times Square anytime soon, but I think it’s worth pausing on this year’s Gala to assess this moment.
Where are we? Nowhere good.
People will always be fascinated with the lifestyles of the rich and famous. After all, there was a long-running television show entitled Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. And people are always going to be mean to billionaires, whether they deserve it or not. (They almost certainly deserve it.)
Now, though, it maybe feels like something is shifting. Yes, we still rubberneck at celebrity stupidity. We still click on photos of famous people wearing fifteen-thousand-dollar bathrobes. But there’s a growing sense that maybe the people who own everything are not, in fact, our best and brightest. Maybe they’re just the people who got very, very good at owning everything.
Including our political system.
That’s the subtext of the Bezos backlash. It’s not about the Met Gala. It’s about a country where an increasing majority have their faces pressed against the window of the American dream while watching the 0.1% congratulate themselves on a staircase. The dresses are decoration. The resentment underneath is real. Until that changes, every champagne flute raised under a chandelier is going to look, to a lot of Americans, like provocation.
