In the aughts, the Met Gala was largely sponsored by fashion companies—from Gucci and Chanel to Burberry and Balenciaga. Since Amazon sponsored the gala in 2012, it’s been mostly tech companies: Yahoo, Apple (twice), Instagram (twice), and TikTok. This year, the sponsor was not a tech company, but tech people: Amazon founder Jeff Bezos and his wife, Lauren Sánchez Bezos, both of whom also served as honorary co-chairs. (Saint Laurent sponsored the exhibition catalogue, though.) Meanwhile, tech companies—from Snapchat and Meta to OpenAI—bought tables, which reportedly cost $350,0000. The Amazon money, and the general presence of tech titans, elicited social media calls to boycott the “Tech Gala.”

Tech bros seem increasingly interested in fashion: Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg sat front row at the most recent Prada runway show and has made custom t-shirts emblazoned with his favorite Latin phrases, while Bezos is now a regular at the Met Gala and attended Matthieu Blazy’s Chanel runway debut. However, tech guys are still not known for their sense of style. What might a Silicon Valley shark wear to a “Costume Art” themed gala?

Turns out, there are two types of tech bros: those who wear exceedingly normal suits, and those who wear exceedingly quirky suits. There is no middle ground. See for yourself below.

Sergey Brin, Google Co-Founder

Brin’s outfit—an otherwise normal black suit—was festooned with blue embellishments that formed a vaguely Fauvist face on his chest. Accessories included a wilting pussy bow and jewelry reminiscent of an Oura ring.

Adam Mosseri, Instagram CEO

Mosseri, a frequent Met Gala attendee, wore neither a tie nor Meta Ray-Ban glasses. His Kartik Research suit was embroidered with flowers. Some bouquets grew out of the hems of his pants.

Stewart Butterfield, Slack CEO

No detail went untweaked: Butterfield swapped a traditional button down for a mock turtleneck, lopped off classic lapels, and cropped his pants.

Mark Zuckerberg, Meta CEO

For his first Met Gala, Zuckerberg skipped the red carpet and snuck into the museum in a very basic black Prada tuxedo with a black bowtie. He’s not only a tech bro, but also a watch bro: he wore the George Daniels Anniversary watch.

Jeff Bezos, Amazon Founder and Executive Chairman

Although he was the event's sponsor and honorary chair, Bezos also bypassed the red carpet in a straightforward tuxedo. When facing a mountain of criticism, it’s probably wise to wear a safe outfit. His main accessory was beard scruff.

Shou Zi Chew, TikTok CEO

Another tech titan in a simple outfit: a classic double-breasted black tuxedo, but zhuzhed up with a diamond brooch.

Evan Spiegel, Snap Inc. CEO

Spiegel is a regular at the Met Gala and, as usual, went for an uncontroversial tuxedo. That said, the anonymity of his outfit was offset by having his wife, the model Miranda Kerr, by his side. Both were wearing Dior.

Like many millennial men, James Harris sometimes wagers on sports. But over the weekend, Harris—one-half of the popular menswear podcast Throwing Fits—zeroed in on an entirely different market: the Met Gala. He staked $120 across three positions on Kalshi—a prediction market that allows users to trade on everything from President Donald Trump’s posts on X to Survivor episode outcomes—betting that celebrities Stanley Tucci, Meryl Streep, and Emma Chamberlain will appear on the red carpet. “I'm going big on The Devil Wears Prada 2,” he tells me.

While questions about Met Gala invitees and their outfits have always generated online gossip ahead of the event, prediction markets have turned idle fashion speculation into a casino game. So far, speculators on Polymarket and Kalshi have shelled out north of $750,000 on Met Gala-related markets. The morning of the event, Kalshi gives Kim Kardashian a 30% of wearing Gucci, while Polymarket predicts there's only a 25% chance Lady Gaga will attend tonight’s festivities.

The trading volume bet on the Met Gala pales in comparison to the money placed on other tentpole events, like the Super Bowl and political elections, which regularly exceed hundreds of millions of dollars. But the fashion extravaganza’s markets are introducing a more stylish set to the billion-dollar betting companies. Take Harris, who had never used Kalshi before now. “This is just me injecting a little bit of personal stakes into the Met Gala,” he explains.

Most of the prediction platforms’ trading volume stem from sports, and both Kalshi and Polymarket seem interested in luring sports-oblivious users to their markets. Last summer, Polymarket took bets about Vogue’s next editor-in-chief, and over $35,000 has been spent on Kalshi predicting the cover star of Sports Illustrated’s swimsuit edition.

Unlike presidential elections, there are already answers to Met Gala questions as people place their bets. Some people know whether or not Meryl Streep plans to attend the benefit. Some stylists know which labels their clients plan on wearing. That means members of the fashion industry could run into legal landmines if they decide to place bets. “These markets could entirely be driven by insiders, people who know the information before it happens,” says gambling industry analyst Dustin Gouker. While Valentino-or-Versace markets are less consequential than, say, the timing of an American invasion of Venezuela, it could still expose insiders to regulators’ wrath.

But it doesn’t require a mole at the Mark Hotel, where many VIPs get dressed before the Met Gala, to boost betters’ odds. “We know who [A$AP] Rocky works with,” notes Harris, referencing the rapper’s ambassador deal with Chanel. “Is Rocky gonna wear Givenchy? It's like, obviously not. If you know a little bit about the industry you can kind of make an informed guess.”

Out of all the wild treatments I’ve done in pursuit of wellness, getting a three-hour colonic in an underground cave from a woman sporting sparkly nails and wearing a red tracksuit might just be the most unhinged. And it didn’t even make me well. In fact, it did quite the opposite.

Before this winter, I had no experience with colonics. They were just those things my friends' moms got when they had a free Thursday afternoon. Something for ladies of leisure. Those who are too posh to push. An easy way to—fingers crossed—get skinny. I thought about getting one myself only after I fell down an internet wormhole of parasite cleanses and heavy metal detoxes, fringe health fads beloved by MAHA influencers and wellness bros alike.

According to alternative medical lore, i.e. woo-woo wellness discourse that hasn’t been tested or approved by an official governing body, colon hydrotherapy helps with detoxification, inflammation, digestion, energy levels, skin health, and general physical and mental well-being. By repeatedly flushing the colon with warm filtered water, colonics—allegedly—help eliminate accumulated toxins and waste in the body, the build-up of which can lead to toxicity, which in turn affects the body's functions. It’s a process borrowed from conventional medicine. “In mainstream practice, bowel irrigation is used for constipation, significant stool build-up, certain nerve-related bowel problems, and clearing the bowel before procedures,” says real-life medical professional William Turner, a doctor and medical director of Effect Doctors.

Inspired by this idea of potentially purging my body of toxicity, I booked an appointment with someone I’ll call Madame X, who came highly recommended by a functional medicine expert. I went to her East London clinic on a crisp afternoon. Given the intimate nature of the treatment, one that surely relied on impeccable hygiene, I had been expecting pristine walls, white lab coats, rubber gloves, and the stench of medical-grade disinfectant. What I got was a dingy subterranean lair, a woman with a topknot, and the pungent aroma of coffee. Maybe I’d made a mistake?

After pointing to various diagrams of the colon, Madame X invited me onto a medical bed and told me to relax, before shoving a monstrously large, liberally lubed plastic tube up my ass, which, for someone who identifies as petite down there, was probably one of the most uncomfortable things I've ever experienced. And yes, I've experienced a few things.

Over the next two hours, she introduced warm water into my rectum, filling me up until I was about to burst, all while calling me Trish, rubbing my belly (a special technique designed to stimulate the colon, apparently) and all but forcing me to look at all the ancient fecal matter that was being sucked out of my body. What kind of hell was this? One that was about to get worse.

“And now it’s time for coffee,” said Madame X. After a brief back and forth, I realized that she was not in fact offering me a cuppa, but was instead going to pour said coffee into my asshole, which is when I started to panic. Is this safe? Should I leave? Is this coffee even fair trade?

According to Madame X, coffee aids further detoxification and supports the liver. The theory was introduced by a German-American quack doctor named Max Gerson, who, in the 1950s, suggested that plant-based diets combined with regular coffee enemas could cure cancer. He’s been rigorously debunked and discredited—something I found out after my coffee enema. So please, folks, do not try this at home. Or elsewhere, for that matter.

An hour later, I released my bowels in a loo in the corner of the room, then quickly called a cab and got the hell out of there. That night I felt sore, bloated, and annoyed at myself for not researching the treatment more thoroughly—or at least the double espresso element of it all. Sure, I’d been purged of more shit than I'd seen in my lifetime, and yes, my tummy was feeling spongy in an area where it was usually compact, but I definitely wasn’t experiencing any of the other promised benefits. In fact, for the following two weeks I was backed up, tired, inflamed and irritable. So what went wrong?

According to Dr. Turner, colonics can indeed be beneficial for certain people and in certain cases. “When constipation is present, relieving it can genuinely reduce abdominal discomfort and help people feel more comfortable and at ease in their body.” However, he argues, “when it comes to detoxification, immune enhancement, or metabolic improvement, the clinical evidence is mixed.” As for coffee enemas, they should be avoided altogether. “While plain bowel irrigation can sometimes help with short-term stool clearance, adding coffee is not supported by strong clinical evidence and introduces additional potential risk.” Think: inflammation, thermal injury, infections, and electrolyte imbalances.

In short, coffee colonics are against the good doctor's orders. And given the pain and discomfort I felt during and after, I quite agree. In fact, I’m seriously considering swearing off coffee altogether.