For years, over a million couch-bound TV watchers and self-appointed fashion critics have tuned in to watch the Met Gala: a spectacle where celebrities, athletes, and diplomats congregate, united by their ability to afford a $10,000 table. For many of us, the dream of stepping toe and heel onto the Met’s stairs feels like worlds just out of reach. Yet for all the exclusivity, the most relatable thing about celebrities might be their shared love of a good party.
While the iconic bathroom selfies have become a hallmark of Met Gala mischief, it’s the after-party photos that offer even more insight into their personhood and honestly, just how debaucherous the rich can get. But for me, for one night, rubbing shoulders with those same celebrities didn’t require me to spend a penny towards a $10,000 table, but it may have cost me more.
This year, whispers about who was hosting which party circulated among editors and writers just a week before the big day. Although there were officially fewer than ten Met Gala after-parties, a few stood out to me: A$AP Rocky’s fete at Jeans in lower Manhattan, which, according to him on Seth Meyers, had him and his grandmother out until 8 AM; and GQ’s first-ever Met Gala after-party, which caught my particular interest due to my allegiance to athletes, if any party was going to attract them, it was probably a GQ event. There was also a soiree hosted by Doechii and Teyana Taylor, reportedly featuring topless dancers, and Pharrell’s UNO party, which, despite the magnetic allure of Pharrell himself, was described by streamer Kai Cenat as a bit too mature—no music, just card games. But, I wasn’t invited to those, but I did end up attending three parties myself, which, in hindsight, given the ease of party hopping by a Lyft, was still more than enough partying for me.
First stop: Willy Chavarria x Don Julio’s official Met Gala after-party, which seemed like the best first stop of the night due to it being at The Mark Hotel, the very hotel celebrities book out for the gala and premiere their looks ahead of the red carpet. Not only did it seem like most Met Gala attendees would end up here right after the gala, as it was directly across the street from the main event, but it was also the hotel they were all staying in. There were fans waiting outside just to catch a glimpse of their favorite artists entering through the hotel, phones out and ready—almost too ready—because when my Lyft dropped me in front of the hotel, the phones that were once propped up waiting to see who’d get out of the car slowly lowered back into their pockets. Meaning: multiple times throughout the night, if you simply walked out of the party into the lobby, you’d see Charli XCX, Jenna Ortega, and Cynthia Erivo floating through the lobby back up to their hotel rooms.
Designer and party host Willy Chavarria tells me over Zoom: “We came up with the idea for the party together. I felt like the time was right to do one. We wanted to do it at The Mark [Hotel]
, which is where everyone was staying, and we just thought—let’s make it easy on everyone. They can just come downstairs.“
The room itself was red-lit, carpeted, and thoughtfully curated. Being a Don Julio event, there were multiple bars—no long lines and no crowds all ordering the same drinks off a fixed menu.
“Partnering with Don Julio felt very natural,“ Chavarria says. “We started very small together, and we’ve just been doing more and more parties and shows.”
The vibe: Grown and sexy, set from the moment I walked in to the sound of “Sweetest Taboo” by Sade. The crowd skewed older, with minimal dancing, but the ambiance perfectly aligned with this year’s Met Gala theme: Black Dandyism, with a nod to the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s.
“Don Julio and I just get each other,“ he adds. “We’ve got the Willy vibes, we’ve got roses everywhere, we’ve got the 1942 minis in people’s pockets—everyone can sip their minis glamorously throughout the night.“ He grins. “We just wanted to have a very elegant throwdown.”
And that it was. The atmosphere felt like a fusion between a calm 1970s disco and a 1920s speakeasy. Still, it was my first stop of the night, and I found myself craving something a little raunchier. But Chavarria had already anticipated that too.
“It was strategic to make it the first party of the night,” he explains. “We wanted to manage the crowd and the invitation list so it didn’t get too packed.”
In search of something a little less “grown and sexy” and a little more young and scandalous, a Lyft was called from Upper Manhattan to the Financial District for Après Met. Hosted by Paloma Elsesser, Raul Lopez, and Alex Consani, the party unfolded inside WSA , a new-ish, ultra-glassy office-turned-community space for artists, designers, and indie magazines (that sometimes is used as a party venue).
At first glance, the space felt quiet,
almost too polished. But a walk toward the back revealed where the real party was happening. There, artfully arranged food, displays of candy cigarettes, and a towering glass sculpture overflowing with fruit formed the centerpiece of the room. The crowd came and went in waves, mostly made up of industry insiders and friends of friends. Still, the music stood out as the best of the night: an blend of reggaeton, salsa, dancehall, and current rap hits. And while the dance floor never got packed, everyone who stepped onto it danced like they meant it.
Though it felt a bit disorienting,, almost like my friends and I were trapped in a maze, something kept us there. Maybe it was the familiar faces, maybe it was the music (easily the best of the night), or maybe it was the fear of what other DJs at other parties might bring. Promises to leave were made again and again, but each one dissolved into another hour, another “last” stop at the bar. And then, finally—finally—we left.
A couple of blocks down, we made our way to the ever-iconic Casa Cipriani for Richie Akiva’s “The Afters.” From the moment we slipped through the chaotic crowd outside, the scene inside felt almost dreamlike. Though it’s still unclear who exactly Richie Akiva is or how he managed to pull off a party like this, in the moment, none of that mattered. What was clear was that he knew how to throw a damn good one.
The entrance alone, leading up to a grand, double-sided staircase, felt like something out of a great party movie (less Project X, more Great Gatsby). The space, decorated to the theme of a starry night, was packed with an effortlessly A-list crowd. Tyla and Tems floated through the room. Jaden Smith lurked behind my friends and I for most of the night. Rappers and athletes mingled like it was just another Friday. Doja Cat casually took to the pole, not for an official performance, but the sea of phone lights that surrounded her made it feel like one anyway.
Notably absent? Influencers. Not that their presence would’ve made a difference, but it was impossible not to notice — this felt like a party strictly reserved for celebrities. And honestly, there was barely a flaw in sight. The open bar had no fixed menu. The music was incredible. It wasn’t overcrowded or uncomfortably hot. And for once, there was no pushy security clearing paths for gala royalty.
It was, simply, a perfect party — and one I probably won’t shut up about until Akiva throws the next one.