Winona, Inc.

I attended the Met Gala last year without an escort and had a blast. This year? Not so much. Being an ex-addict, I’ve got to stay way too woke now. Edibles float around like hors d’oeuvres these days. But we’re here for the gowns, right? And they were wild af. BLAKE LIVELY and her Versace mega-train blew in on a big-ass party bus. And RIRI stole the show in her tricked-out, jewel encrusted John Galliano pope ensemble. That drag had to weigh a ton and she had trouble keeping her hat on. But she managed long enough for pics and film. That girl was working! There were Joan of Arcs, several Nuns, lots of papal capes and robes. Me? I was feeling kind of Maid Marion-ish—without a Robin Hood—in my Vera Wang-inspired gown. It fit like a glove and the veil gave it a crazy, virginal spin, I thought. The big bejeweled crucifix? Well, everybody says that God has a sense of humor, right? SMOOCHES!