We Will Never Like You, Lauren Sanchez Bezos

Next week will see the return of the Met Gala, one of the most obsessed-over and elite events on the celebrity calendar. Ostensibly a fundraiser, the gala, the brainchild of Anna Wintour, has become an arbiter of power and presence in the world of fashion. It’s an expensive event to attend and one with sky-high expectations of red carpet prowess. To make it to the Met Gala is to prove that you’re a star. This year, however, the event is largely being funded by Jeff and Lauren Sanchez Bezos, the evil billionaire and his new wife. They’ve been seen cozying up to Wintour a lot lately, and Lauren in particular has been trying to establish herself as a style icon, going so far as to acquire the services of stylist to the stars Law Roach.

The Bezos-ificiation of the Met Gala was always going to be controversial given Jeff’s schmoozing with Trump and his dismantling of the Washington Post. Even by the standards of an event designed exclusively for the obscenely rich, having these losers try to buy their way into its hallowed halls feels flop-sweaty. It’s further evidence that the second-richest man on the planet and his former mistress are trying to muscle their way into a kind of celebrity not usually demanded of their kind. For Sanchez Bezos in particular, it’s part of her years-long campaign to become an icon. Nobody’s buying it.

Once upon a time, evil rich people did not demand that everyone like them. They certainly did things to massage their public reputations, like charity work and sticking their names on art gallery walls, but us poors weren’t endlessly besieged by press designed to make us care about the personalities of the uber-wealthy. I’m not talking about traditional celebrities, people with an artistic craft whose work is reliant on building a devoted fandom. I’m talking about tech bros, CEOs, and businessmen who would typically operate in the shadows and away from red carpets. Traditionally speaking, Sam Altman would usually be seen on the front page of Forbes but not seeking coverage from Vogue. Jeff Bezos would turn up on CNBC but we wouldn’t see updates about his wedding on Entertainment Tonight. Elon Musk would leave us all the hell alone instead of… well, do I need to finish that sentence?

And, of course, we wouldn’t also be overwhelmed with fawning and agonizingly manicured coverage of any of their spouses. Why, under normal circumstances, would we need to know anything about these women? But Lauren Sanchez Bezos, like her husband, wants to be loved. Specifically, she wants to be legitimized in the public eye as someone of clout and taste. She wants to be seen as an equal to her husband, but also a figure of mystique who average people want regular updates on, like a Taylor Swift or another famous woman with discernible talent.

Sanchez Bezos was not an unknown entity before meeting Jeff. She was a newsreader who often popped up in movies. She was married to Patrick Whitesell, one of the most powerful agents in Hollywood. But the chances are you found out about her from when it was revealed she and Jeff were cheating on their spouses with one another. Their text messages went viral and Jeff’s wife McKenzie took home one of the biggest divorce settlements in history. From thereon, Lauren had to go to work to reinvent herself as the next Mrs. Bezos, not a homewrecker.

The Vogue profile of Sanchez, pre-marriage, where she snuggles with Jeff in the desert and talks up her credentials as a girlboss, is a hilarious read. I wrote about it for my newsletter (shameless plug), for anyone interested in a deeper dive. Essentially, the article is designed to portray Sanchez as the badass true love of Jeff but also a charismatic leader in her own right. See, she’s the real star here, so in love with her mid-life crisis boyfriend and showing off her immense generosity. But not even the most carefully packaged profile could make us care about Sanchez. She looked terrible in the images and the article made her seem shallow and uninteresting. Readers felt like they were being sold a faulty product. Profiles like this are designed to promote a person in the best possible light, but usually we know why, say, Rihanna is doing so. Why did the Bezoses need this?

Sanchez Bezos may want the world to see her as her own woman but she’s also trying to sell us Jeff as part of the package deal. McKenzie Bezos largely kept to herself but Lauren wants all the glimmering benefits of marrying the second-richest man on the planet. Being Mrs. Bezos, she thinks, is aspirational. It’s how she gets on the cover of Vogue and leads a girlboss space jaunt. She tries to sell her own journey to uber-wealth as a victory for the culture, and the things she does with that money as a symbol of her progressive generosity. You just have to ignore how ineffective the Bezos charity offerings are (why are you giving money to Dolly Parton of all people?) and the image of her in a bra and blazer at the second Trump inauguration.

In a recent and somewhat baffling interview with The New York Times, Sanchez Bezos tried to spin her wealth and the capitalistic nightmare she embodies as a journey of self-fulfilment. Someone has to be rich and happy so why not her, right? The piece tries to suggest that she’s totally above the criticisms, but all it did was reinforce the truth: that she desperately wants to be a celebrity. She wants to be admired, to be respected, and ultimately to be a new benchmark for the masses. But you can’t force people to like you, especially when what you’re offering is, frankly, crap. You can pay Law Roach to pick out the priciest outfit, but that doesn’t make it or you stylish. You can bribe Anna Wintour into letting you host her party, but it won’t turn you into a socialite or philanthropist. You can wear a flared jumpsuit into sorta-space and we’ll all just laugh at your claims of feminist progress.

Cheering on billionaires is always embarrassing, but at least when Swifties go wild for Taylor, they’re supporting someone who makes something tangible that they’re invested in. Rihanna fans went on a journey with her as she evolved from island girl to pop legend to queen of a business empire. Sanchez Bezos married the guy she cheated with, and then wore a knock-off Grace Kelly princess gown to her wedding so reinvent herself as a blushing bride who fought against non-existent odds. Being the richest does not make you the best, brightest, or most interesting. Even if the economy were booming and Amazon wasn’t letting workers suffer, it would be an enormously tacky look. Indeed, therein lies a key issue with Sanchez Bezos’s desperate push to make us all like her: arrogance is cheap.