OUT of THE BOX
by Melquan Ganzy
Black Dandyism Beyond the Spotlight
Black Dandyism is not a trend or a costume, it’s an act of resistance, a portal to freedom, and a historical anchor of resilience. It’s bigger than the Met Gala. Bigger than a curated guest list. It is the legacy of those who dared to imagine themselves beyond the limits placed upon them.
For Black men, dandyism has been a vessel — one that challenges the lies told about us and reshapes how we see ourselves. A dandy is bold. A dandy is layered with history, elegance, rebellion. A dandy is me.
From my great-grandfather Charles, to the polished brothers of Alpha Phi Alpha like W.E.B. Du Bois, to James E. Shepard, founder of my alma mater North Carolina Central University — Black Dandyism has always been about claiming space. And André Leon Talley, a fellow NCCU Eagle, showed us that otherness could be majestic. He’s the reason for my ballroom name “Talley” of the most fabulous house, Balenciaga — Talley Balencaiga!
This tradition of dressing up was never just about looks. It was about survival. Defiance. Power. From the Harlem Renaissance to Hip-Hop, from the Zoot Suit rebellion to Ballroom culture, Dandyism has existed across the diaspora as both memory and innovation.
In today’s moment — particularly as the Met Gala celebrates “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style” — I’m not looking to be included. I’m looking to hold space. I’m tracing the lineage of dandyism not just through history books, but through my own body. I wear what many of my ancestors dreamed: freedom.
What I Hope to See on the Red Carpet
The Black Dandy isn’t dressing up, he’s dressing out. Each silhouette is rebellion. Each stitch a sermon. Whether adorned in corsets, jeweled accessories, or flowing fabrics, he flips the script on what masculinity, Blackness, and elegance can look like. He reclaims style on his own terms.
I want to see people step out of the box with confidence and humility, those who understand the privilege of even being invited to such a stage. I’m looking for vibrant hues, references to the Motherland, bold shapes, and nods to the forgotten.
While America’s Custom Tailor Foundation once dominated the mid-century menswear market (to the frustration of the British), today, we’re seeing British designers lead the charge in redefining menswear. Bianca Saunders, Wales Bonner, and Martine Rose are pushing the envelope—offering rich, nuanced interpretations of Black identity, queerness, heritage, and masculinity. Their work reminds us that great fashion doesn’t just look good, it says something.
I’m excited to see how designers like Willy Chavarria and Raul Lopez exaggerate suiting, distort structure, and offer commentary through craft.
We’re also eager to witness how designers revolt against traditional dark tones and bring us bold, radiant color, something we all need right now in a world weighed down by so much. Give us silhouettes rooted in diaspora, textiles that speak to the continent, garments that carry soul. That kind of storytelling is power.
I’m especially curious to see how menswear gets reimagined — corsets, pinks, and soft silhouettes once labeled “feminine,” now reframed as power. As Susan Kaiser and Monica Miller have written, style is always in conversation with shifts in time and identity. How we dress shapes — and is shaped by — where we are and who we’re becoming.
Keep It Cute or We’ll Hold You Accountable on My Soul
Black people are the blueprint. From du-rags to Timberlands, we’ve set global trends only to be erased from the narrative. Then it’s sold back to us. Tonight, the world will watch as garments inspired by Black Dandyism walk the carpet. But we will be watching too.
If you're not Black, play it safe. Cultural appropriation, Blackface, and exploitation are not just missteps—they are failures of imagination and responsibility. If these moments occur, it’s proof that decision-makers lacked the courage to include conscious Black creatives and scholars in the process.
We don’t need to see afros and cornrows turned into props. We want to see the essence of style—the coolness, the rebellion, the intentionality. Don’t reduce us to aesthetics. This is about legacy.
Featured Brands: Advisry, L’Enchanteur, and Harlem Heaven Hat
Captured by photographer Azelion Manuel.
When Suits Come Off And The Glamour Fades
Once the night ends and the celebrities disappear, Black Dandyism remains. For those of us who’ve lived this — curators, historians, storytellers — our work doesn’t end when the lights go out. In fact, that’s when it begins again.
We’ve seen this cycle: visibility for one night, invisibility the next. People dress in Blackness without knowing the burden it carries. And often, those closest to the story, those who’ve studied it, lived it, aren’t invited to tell it.
This isn’t bitterness. It’s truth. In a world built on stark whiteness yet shaped by Black brilliance, access still lives in white hands: the PR teams, the curators, the gatekeepers. They decide who gets the mic.
So ask yourself: When the suits come off, what’s left? Who holds the story? Who carries the weight?
Because that — not the spectacle — is what really matters.