Punjabi Aa Gaye, at the Met: Diljit Dosanjh’s Met Gala Debut is a Cultural Reset

By Ramneek Kaur

A Dialogue with Black Dandyism, in a Punjabi Accent

This year’s met theme “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style,” reframed fashion through a radical lens. Inspired by Monica Miller’s Slaves to Fashion, the exhibit centered Black dandyism not as mere style, but as resistance. Tailoring became testimony — of how Black men, especially post-emancipation, used clothing to challenge oppression, reclaim dignity, and rewrite how they were seen.

Dosanjh’s presence was in conversation with this lineage. Not as an appropriation, but as an echo. Of another community — Sikhs and Punjabis — historically persecuted, mocked, and erased. At the Met, he tailored Black dandyism to his own personal culture.

Instead of a cane, he held a kirpan. Instead of colonial mimicry, he wore Gurmukhi script and a map of Punjab on his back. He wasn’t dressed like royalty. He was channeling it — specifically, the Maharaja of Patiala, Bhupinder Singh — flamboyant, powerful, and flawed.

Cartier, Erasure, and the Necklace That Could Have Been

In a poignant twist, Dosanjh tried to borrow the original Patiala necklace, commissioned in 1928 by the Maharaja and crafted by Cartier — a masterpiece of diamonds and Indian regality. But the request was denied.

That same necklace had once been loaned to Emma Chamberlain, a white YouTuber.

“I think it’s so sad that a piece of Indian culture could be loaned to a white influencer, but not to an actual Punjabi man paying homage to his own history,” said writer Ria Chopra. “Cartier could have done better.”

Despite the denial, Diljit didn’t shrink. He wore Cartier anyway — the Nature Sauvage Tigre bracelet and the new rose gold Panthère watch — reframing their jewels with his own meaning.

“Punjabi Aa Gaye.”

It’s his anthem, his battle cry. “Punjabi aa gaye,” Dosanjh often declares. And this time, the world was watching.

In a moment where style is power, he stood tall — as a Sikh, as a Punjabi, as a desi dandy with roots, rage, and rhythm. He wasn’t just tailored. He was tailored for this.

“Punjab di boli, te Punjab te khud Punjab har stage te khara hovega,” he once proclaimed. This week, on the steps of the Met, it happened.