- If you can't take petty
tasks unnecessarily seriously, what are you even doing with your life? (dramatic music) When Billy Porter, in
conjunction with Vogue, encouraged the people at home to don our chicest potato couch lewks and recreate an iconic
Met Gala look from home, one does not simply pass up
this pristine opportunity for some serious tomfoolery. The look I have chosen to usurp is Ariana Grande's Sistine
Chapel gown from 2018. The material: toilet paper. (orchestral music) (let the tomfoolery begin) I'm going to make up a
couple of panels I think, for the underdress. I don't wanna stitch them all together, because I don't want to start
out with a tube of skirt because the gown is massive
and flowy and floofy and large. So I think I'm going to start off with a couple of large panels like this, that I can then pleat down into something that will give it some volume, whilst also maintaining that
sort of layery, floofiness. I'm making this sound way more pretentious than it actually is. (orchestral music) Ok, ok, this should work. One, two, three, four. So I think I'm gonna make
up eight panels of these. (intense math-doing time) That will then pleat down to
form the underskirt, right. (tense orchestral music) I'm going to endeavor to sew these toilet paper strips together. Karolina obviously found a
way to do this successfully, so I think it can be done. We shall see. (whirring) (antique sewing machine ASMR time!) (soft orchestral music) (whirring) (soft orchestral music) Now before a small armada of people go leaving strongly roasting
letters in the comments about the scarcity of this
most precious commodity, allow me to first explain my intellectual reasoning
behind this decision, that being the very
principal of the Met Gala and indeed the core concept of the ostentatious
high society gathering, documented all throughout history. From King Henry VIII's
Field of the Cloth of Gold to Marie Antoinette's grand masquerades to the Vanderbilt Ball of 1883. The Met Gala, in effect,
is one and the same. An exclusive and highly
publicized gathering at which only members
of a select upper tier of social society are able to attend through invitation only. These events are publicized
profusely to be consumed and largely adored secondhand
by the wider public. Thus creating a need to
demonstrate to utmost effect, status, position, and wealth. A feat most feasibly
achieved through dress. Be it with sumptuous
silk and cloth of gold, or by donning the latest Worth gown, these events provoke needs for fashions that immediately assert
the attendees worthiness to participate in these
highest circles of society. Thus it would be largely
beside the point for me not to honor the traditional
significance of these such events by ostentatiously flaunting
such 2020 definitions of copious consumptions
of precious resources. If only, at least through
entirely satirical means. (upbeat, mischievous music) In all seriousness, I
should like to point out that simply because some toilet paper is momentarily refashioned
into an unconventional form, does not mean it no longer is able to serve its initial function. So I have come to the realization
that I really should not be draping the bodice right now and in fact I probably
should have put the waistband onto the skirt first, taken this off, sewn this, and draped the
bodice without all of this. So I'm going to stop before I move onto the rest of piecing
the bodice together. Just sort of fold these up, I've got a linen bit of
tape that I'm just going to stitch on the top here, as the waistband to hold
all of this into place and then we will get the bodice together and attach the two layers together. (upbeat orchestral music) (whirring) (upbeat orchestral music) (werk) The quantity of dust in this vicinity is...not pleasant. I think this is very much going to be a single wear occasion. Having achieved the desired skirt shape, I then proceeded onto
draping the bodice bit, which was surprisingly easy
since the strips of toilet paper are already paneled to a decent
width of a paneled bodice. (dramatic orchestral music) (how she's doing all of
this with toilet paper I will never understand) With everything pinned into place, the bodice is then removed from the stand and is stitched together by
hand because this is couture, and I'm attempting to leave
as much as ease in as possible to accommodate for the
stretch of the bra band. So this whole thing has
a relatively decent hope of staying in place. (dramatic orchestral music) Hey past Bernadette, where do you see yourself in five years? Well friend, I see myself
sitting in a sewing room at approximately 11 o'clock at night, hand stitching some toilet paper together into a couture bodice. (dramatic orchestral music) And finally, my reason for choosing this look in particular, this Bow Thing. I mean come on, do not try and tell me this wasn't just begging to
be remade out of toilet paper, because I will not hear of it otherwise. (dramatic orchestral music) List of things I literally
thought I would never be doing, (deep existential sigh) No, it goes up, like a lot. (dramatic orchestral music) (uplifting orchestral music) (work the runway Bernadette) (I dare anyone to tell me
she is not serving lewks) (soft mischievous music)
And she did it on her 1800s manual turn sewing machine in addition to hand sewing, and also manages to talk about fashion history while making that relevant to the current pandemic, because she compares the cloth of gold of old to our new gold, toilet paper. I didn't think I could love her more.
love bernadette