Evan Spiegel, Miranda KerrSkylar Searing/BFA.com
For a moment, a candlelit, book-lined bar in the East Village felt more like someone’s Gothic living room than a Met Gala after-party set-up—that was, until Miranda Kerr stepped in, dazzling in a Wiederhoeft dress. With her husband Evan Spiegel, the co-founder and CEO of Snap, just behind her, the supermodel was ready to kick things off at Monsieur alongside Baz Luhrmann and Catherine Martin.
It was just after midnight at the annual post soirée the Australian film director Baz Luhrmann puts on for the late night set. And true to his maximalism, the venue was the perfect continuation of the night’s “fashion is art” theme. As the funk music got louder, grilled cheeses circulated and guests spilled into the velvety booths, espresso martinis in hand as the evening gathered pace.
Guests ranged from Hunter Schafer to Gracie Abrams, Sombr, Odessa A’Zion, Maude Apatow, and Rami Malek. They traded gowns for elaborate headpieces, feathers and fur jackets; the scene resembling the costume-led storytelling of Luhrmann and Martin’s catalog–Elvis, Romeo and Juliet, or even the upcoming Joan of Arc.
Vesper martinis and Superstar-themed cocktails were the drinks of choice and by 1:30 a.m., the room was bustling. The party also teased the debut of Specs, Snap’s foray into consumer smart glasses. Luhrmann, himself, arrived in tinted sunglasses and his same Prada red carpet look with Martin by his side, moving through a burst of paparazzi flashes before heading straight for Kerr’s booth.
DJ Daisy O’Dell kept things moving with a four-hour set, stacking Lykki Li with Frankie Valli to keep the dance floor full. Dressed in a silver sculpted bodice, she mirrored the night’s earlier Kardashian-Jenner mood: nude bustiers that harked back to classical sculptures and Renaissance portraiture.
It didn’t take long for the smoke machines—and actual cigarette smoke—to kick in and for Luhrmann to become the magnet of the dance floor. At the edges of the haze, attendees compared camera rolls from the night while Jack Harlow sat back in a tuxedo, silver brooch, and his signature slouched cap, watching the scene swirl around him.
As the bash slipped into the early hours, Can’t Take My Eyes Off You hit the speakers. It felt like the final push for the First Monday in May celebrations as the music pulled the room into a last collective dance. “Love and friendship,” Luhrmann chanted over the beat, leaning in. “Love and friendship!”
