Just imagine the cocktail chatter--do you talk about "The Dress?" Or "The Dead Terrorist?" The gown of the century…or the goon?

This was the dilemma facing the 790 guests—mostly A-Listers from the worlds of fashion, film and music—who attended the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute Gala in New York City Monday night, a black-tie celebration of the Institute’s newest exhibit, “Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty.”

“It’s definitely a weird time right now,” says Josh Duhamel, who walked the red carpet with his wife, Fergie. “But what are you gonna do? It wouldn’t be right to call something like this off."

The exhibition, which opens to the public Wednesday and runs through July 31, is a tribute to the work of the British designer, whose tragic suicide in London last year shocked the industry. And it seems an eerie example of life imitating art that in the days leading up to this show—which displays McQueen’s uncanny ability to mix romance and aggression, sophisticated chic and bawdy S&M—the world was treated to both a royal wedding (complete with teeny-waisted bride and a gown designed by—ta da—Sarah Burton, the new creative director of the Alexander McQueen brand), and the violent death of Osama bin Laden, perhaps the world’s most loathed and hunted man.

“It was a chapter that needed to be closed,” says singer Janelle Monae, when asked about bin Laden. Monae was the first to hit the red carpet, breezing past a half dozen men standing at attention in Scottish regalia (a nod to McQueen’s heritage) wearing her own dramatic look: a black tux, with Henry VIII-ish ruff-collared shirt and top hat with net veil.

“I look at myself as a time traveler,” she says.

Train Pile-Up

Floating along after Monae are Alicia Keys (in an imposing Givenchy gown), Ashley Olsen (in Christian Dior Couture) and young actor Ethan (grandson of Gregory) Peck in a sleek gray tux by Lanvin (which he pronounces flawlessly).

“My dress is my date tonight—and we needed an SUV,” notes Twilight star Ashley Greene, in a Donna Karan strapless of nude tulle and sequins, with a long, voluminous train.

Suddenly, an Amtrak nightmare—trains collide, as Greene’s dress becomes entangled with a J. Mendel gown of nude lace and frayed-organza worn by Taylor Swift.

“Oh…oh…,” utters Swift, sweetly towering over publicists, who extricate the trains like their lives depended on it.

Neutrality Acts

The neutral theme is a popular one, with a slew of starlets in barely there shades: Dakota Fanning, in a Valentino strapless with embroidered flowers; Blake Lively in a sheer—make that very sheer—gray mini from Chanel Couture (“it’s a little strategic,” she says, with a nervous laugh); and Jennifer Hudson (showing off that new figure), in smoky gray tulle Vera Wang.

Of course, there are exceptions: Jennifer Lopez got Gucci’d up in fuchsia; Evan Rachel Wood did Gucci in plum; and model Brooklyn Decker rocked a Michael Kors figure-hugger in “highlighter pink,” as she called it. “If the power goes out, you’ll find me in the dark.” (Serious.)

Vogue bigwigs are mainstays at this annual event, and sure enough there’s Anna Wintour (gala co-chair with Colin Firth and Stella McCartney), wearing a glisteny gray gown with chevron stripes from Chanel Couture. And André Leon Talley, in a massive blue cloak. And Hamish Bowles, in a tartan ensemble nabbed from the McQueen archives.

Memories of Lee

Bowles recalled meeting McQueen for the first time back in the 1990s, when the designer was just starting out.

“He was…,” Bowles hesitates. “Inarticulate. Abrasive. And absolutely brilliant—you could just see it.”

Lee Alexander McQueen (he used “Alexander” professionally but was Lee to his friends) was apparently something of a lout.

“There were very few teeth, I remember, and a beer belly,” Bowles recalls. Clearly not a designer in the mold of a young, refined Christian Dior, or Yves Saint Laurent.

McQueen soon gained a reputation for being provocative, racy, dark, with runway shows like performance art. The Met exhibition recreates or shows video footage of some of his most exotic shows, including one in the form of a life-size chess match; one in which models, with heads bandaged, seem trapped inside a glass asylum; a futuristic show where Kate Moss appeared as a hologram; and another where a model in a pure white dress is attacked by two spray-painting robots.

That violently painted dress, along with others adorned in horsehair, shells, mud and glass medical slides, are all on view.

Yet despite such stylish in-your-facery, “he was really very shy,” says Sarah Jessica Parker, who recalled a previous Met gala the two attended together.

“We’re both shy—it was very quiet car ride,” she admitted, laughing.

“But he did have a naughty side to him,” Madonna mentioned, a glint in her eye (and silver stars down the back of her Stella McCartney dress).

“We had a French fry fight once,” she said, smiling.

Egg Noggin'

Despite his knack for the outlandish, McQueen seemed uncomfortable in the spotlight. So he might not have had the best time were he at the Met himself. But one can imagine he might’ve appreciated the weird and drastic way news cycles collided just before his exhibition was unveiled.

And the edgier fashion choices of the evening: like Jessica Szohr, in a fuzzy black mini from oh-so-economical TopShop. Marc Jacobs in a tartan kilt. Beyoncé in a dress so tight she could barely make it up the stairs. And Rihanna, with her long, red-hot Brunhilde braid and Stella McCartney lace dress looking completely open on one side, from torso to ankle.

The capper—literally—was Anna Dello Russo, the Italian style maven and Vogue Japan editor, who proudly wore an egg (or so it appeared) perched on her head.

The hat, by Milanese milliner Alan Journo, was like something off a McQueen runway. A concoction only a European designer, not an American, could dream up, she had to admit.“We have a little more sense of humor,” she said. “We are…more bold, because…why not?”