A Few Miles From The Met, Some Very Good Dogs Pranced Down a Red Carpet All Their Own on Monday
I’m not really an animal person. I’m scared of birds, large dogs, and anything that smells bad in the rain. My friends think this is a red flag, but I think it makes me the perfect, most objective reporter to cover fashion’s biggest night out. No, not the one at The Met—the one 85 blocks downtown, at New York University.
I’m talking, of course, about the Pet Gala, an annual adoption event hosted by NYU Faculty Housing Happenings. On a rainy Monday night, while the most famous names in fashion were congregating on the blue carpet, I met the furry fashionistas of Greenwich Village.
“This is Cleo,” Grace Forster told me, holding a four-year-old chihuahua with pink painted toenails in her right arm. “You remember the Lana Del Rey look, of course?”
It took me a second to understand what she meant, until I saw it: Cleo was draped in a chihuahua-sized replica of Lana Del Rey’s Alexander McQueen headpiece at the 2024 Met Gala. Sprouting from her head under a white veil was a bouquet of intersecting branches; everything down to the red rose wrapped around her paw was in homage to Lana.
“ But you have to see her first outfit,” Grace said, “which was a black-and-white suit with a little beret.”
Cleo is a regular at doggie fashion events around the city; she seemed comfortable under the pressure of flashing lights and paw-parazzi. Grace worked with a designer for her Lana-inspired look, and Cleo even walked (well, was carried in) Paris Fashion Week in 2023.
At the end of the runway at NYU, Cleo enjoyed a reunion with one of her fellow models: a black-and-white papillon named Finley who sparkled in a sequined top. Cleo and Finley greeted each other like seasoned professionals in the industry—no cheek kisses, just little sniffs in the air. They’ve both done events with the American Kennel Club and plan to be at another Pet Gala at the Museum of the Dog later this month. Ruff life, right?
“Does he always look this fabulous?” I asked Elizabeth, Finley’s mom.
“He does have a lot of clothes,” she said. “My husband says he can’t have another drawer. He basically has four drawers.”
But the red carpet was open to newcomers too. Logan—a husky-shepherd mix in a dapper fedora, a white collar, a blue bow tie, and four little gold cuff links—stunned on the sit-and-repeat, accompanied by human stylists Bryan and David.
“ It all goes with the hat, because the only thing we had at the moment was the hat,” Bryan tells me. “And then, I don’t know, I just got into it. I got one of my shirts, ripped it, cut it, added the bow tie, and then attached the cuffs of my shirt to his legs.”
Looking equally regal is one of the only representatives of the feline contingency: a silky gray cat named Mister Tuts, decked out in a red velvet cape and crown.
“ He’s the king because he acts like a king,” his plus-one, Clarice, told me plainly.
I kept my eye out for any catty behavior, but the claws never came out. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to be at the Pet Gala—including, and especially, the humans. Take a pair of sisters I met in matching pink dresses dotted with white terriers, little gold Mary Janes, and toy pups on leashes. I introduced myself to the elder of the two, who had accessorized her outfit with a pair of white dalmatian ears.
“My name is Miranda, and my dog’s name is Bingo,” she said.
“And my name is Fernanda, and my dog is Lily,” her little sister, just two years old, added.
“So how old are your dogs?”
“My dog is 10,” Miranda said. She gestured at Bingo, who looked great; it was hard to believe he was twice her age. “And my sister’s dog is maybe…one?”