Jennifer Lopez Slammed for “Rude” Response to a Guest’s Question on the Red Carpet

Social media is buzzing with criticism for Jennifer Lopez’s “rude” behavior toward a Met Gala guest, as seen in a viral video shared on Instagram and TikTok.

At the Met Gala, J. Lo, 54, caused a stir with her short response to a red carpet reporter. The event made headlines for other reasons too, like a salmon farming tycoon stealing the spotlight and Kim Kardashian getting flak for wearing a cardigan.

With the dress code themed around “The Garden of Time” and the exhibition titled “Sleeping Beauties: Reawakening Fashion,” there was a lot of room for creativity among fashion designers dressing celebrities. People were eager to see what everyone would wear.

As Lopez made her way up the iconic Met Gala red carpet, adorned in a breathtaking silver gown that seemed to carry its own weight, she found herself approached by Anika Reed, a senior editor from USA Today. With the buzz of cameras and the anticipation of the night filling the air, Reed asked the simple yet essential question: “Who are you wearing tonight?”

J. Lo’s response was brief, almost dismissive: “Schiaparelli.” With a quick once-over glance, she seemed to size up Reed before moving on, her attention drifting away without much fanfare. Reed, keen to capture every moment of the star-studded event, recorded the exchange, later sharing it on social media with the caption: “#metgala co-chair @jlo briefly told me about her look for the night: @schiaparelli ✨.”

Many social media users didn’t hold back their disappointment in Lopez’s treatment of Reed, taking to various online platforms to voice their disapproval. One Instagram user criticized her, “So rude,” while another condemned her behavior as “always mean” and “just unclassy.”

Another person had strong opinions on the matter, stating, “She didn’t even bother to look at the poor woman”, or, “Why is she giving mean girl vibes?”.

While some admired Lopez’s attire, there was clear disdain for her personality, as one user remarked, “The dress is incredible, the person wearing it not so much.” The incident sparked a flurry of commentary, revealing the public’s mixed feelings towards the celebrity.

Despite the criticism, it was surprising to many that the dress worn by J. Lo had taken more than 800 hours to be made.

Preview photo credit heyitsanika / Instagramjlo / Instagram

I Was Told to Stay Away from the Old Lady on the Third Floor Until I Discovered She Knew a Secret About My Past — Story of the Day

When I took a nanny job at the Harrison estate, I thought it was my chance to start over. But the forbidden third floor and whispers about my mother’s past made me question everything I thought I knew.

When my mother passed away, my world fell apart. She wasn’t just my mom; she was my anchor. Without her, I was adrift in a storm of grief and bills that piled up faster than I could handle.

I spent countless nights scrolling through job postings. “Experience required.” “Degree preferred.” Each rejection chipped away at my hope.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Come on, Sarah,” I whispered to myself.

Then, one day, a thick envelope arrived.

The Harrisons?

I’d never heard of them, but the letter inside offered a job as a nanny for their eight-year-old son, Lucas. It felt like a miracle.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

When I arrived at the Harrison estate, its grandeur was overwhelming—perfect gardens, towering doors, everything so pristine it felt unreal.

“You must be Sarah,” a sharp voice broke my thoughts.

I turned to see a stunning woman descending the steps.

“I’m Veronica,” she said curtly. “Come in.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The house’s gleaming marble floors and sparkling chandeliers gave it the feel of a museum rather than a home.

“This way,” Veronica said briskly.

Lucas, my charge, stood by the staircase, clutching a book.

“Hi,” he mumbled, barely glancing up when prompted.

“Lucas isn’t much for talking,” Veronica said, brushing him off.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

She continued outlining the rules.

“And one more thing,” she said, stopping abruptly. “The third floor is off-limits. That’s where the grandmother lives. She values her privacy.”

I nodded, but her tone made me uneasy.

At dinner, I met Richard, Lucas’s father, a kind-eyed man who looked older than his years.

“Lucas has mentioned you,” he said warmly.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Has he?” I asked, glancing at Lucas as he pushed broccoli around his plate.

“He’s observant,” Richard said with a small smile.

Then there was Oliver, Richard’s eldest son, “just visiting for a while.”

That night, as I settled into my room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the house held secrets that were tied to the forbidden third floor.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

While tidying Lucas’s room one afternoon, I stumbled upon a dusty old photo album tucked away at the back of his closet. Its leather cover was cracked and worn as if it had been forgotten for years.

My curiosity got the better of me, and I carefully opened it, flipping through the pages.

The photographs were full of happy moments: Richard as a young man, his arm around a lovely woman who must be his first wife. Beside them was little Oliver grinning at the camera.

My lips curved into a small smile, but as I turned the next page, my heart stopped.

This is… my mother!

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

There she was, smiling brightly, standing beside Richard, holding baby Oliver in her arms.

What is she doing in these photos?

I remembered how she had once mentioned working as a nanny for a wealthy family, but she had never given me any details.

Why? Why did she leave? Why didn’t she tell me?

I stared at the photo, unable to look away.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

That evening, I wandered the hallways of the Harrison house, thinking. As I passed the living room, sharp voices caught my attention. I slowed my steps, careful not to make a sound.

“Your mother keeps bringing up Kristy and her child,” Veronica hissed, her tone edged with frustration. “I’m sick of hearing about it. How much longer are you going to let her go on with these stories? Kristy existed, didn’t she?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Richard’s voice was heavy. “She’s old, Veronica. She doesn’t know what she’s saying half the time. Kristy was just a nanny for Oliver. My mother is mixing up memories with things that never happened.”

I froze, gripping the banister. Kristy. That was my mother’s name. They were talking about her.

My breath caught as realization hit. The grandmother knew something about my mother and this family.

Is she trying to tell them something important?

I needed answers. And I knew exactly where to start: the third floor.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

The next evening, I waited for my chance. Richard and Veronica left for a charity event, and Oliver was buried in a book in the study. I tucked Lucas into bed, leaving the baby monitor on the nightstand, and quietly made my way to the third floor.

My heart thudded in my chest as I reached the locked door to the grandmother’s room. I’d noticed earlier that the kitchen keyring held a small, unmarked key. Slipping back downstairs, I retrieved it, hoping it would fit. When I returned, I slid the key into the lock. It turned with a soft click.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The room was dim, lit only by a lamp on a small table. The scent of lavender lingered in the air. An ornate rug lay beneath a chair where the grandmother sat by the window, a photograph trembling in her wrinkled hands. She didn’t look up until I stepped inside.

Her gaze landed on me, and her eyes filled with tears.

“You must be Sarah. You look so much like Kristy.”

“You… you knew my mother?” I stammered, stepping closer.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

She nodded, motioning for me to sit on the chair across from her.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” she said, clutching the photo tightly. “Your mother worked here many years ago. She was Oliver’s nanny, but she was much more than that. She was everything to Richard.”

“What do you mean?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Her voice dropped to a whisper, but it was filled with emotion.

“Your mother and Richard fell in love. It was a big secret. They had to hide it. Richard was already married, and my husband, your grandfather, demanded they keep up appearances for the family’s reputation. When Kristy found out she was pregnant with you, she left. She didn’t want to destroy the family. We’d been mailing for years. That’s why I have your photos.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The room spun around me. I shook my head, trying to process her words.

“Is Richard my father?”

Tears streamed down her face as she nodded.

“Yes, my dear. You are his daughter. I’ve tried to tell him, but he won’t listen. He thinks I’m just a senile old woman.”

Her voice cracked. “And Veronica, his new wife… She’s kept me isolated, trying to silence me.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t speak. The weight of her words crushed me. She reached for my hand.

“That was my invitation in your mail. You have your mother’s spirit. And I want you to be part of our family. Sooner or later.”

“No one will believe me,” I said quietly. “They’ll think I’m here to take something or cause trouble.”

The grandmother’s expression softened.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“In time, they will. Your mother, Kristy, was the only one who truly loved Richard for who he was, not for what he had. He knew it then, and he’ll feel it now. He will accept you because you’re part of her—the woman he truly loved.”

“I should go,” I said, hearing faint rustling through the baby monitor in my pocket. “Lucas needs me.”

“Go on, dear. We’ll talk again when the time is right.”

I slipped out, locking the door behind me. The hallway felt heavy as I descended the stairs, thoughts racing.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Reaching Lucas’s room, I found him sound asleep, his small hand clutching his blanket. I exhaled in relief.

But, at that moment, I didn’t notice the faint sound of a door closing in my room.

***

When I entered my room, my breath caught! Oliver was sitting on the edge of my bed.

“You spoke to her, didn’t you?” he asked.

I nodded, unsure of how much to admit. “I didn’t mean to, but…”

He raised a hand, stopping me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“It’s fine. I overheard everything.” His face softened, the guarded expression fading. “I always knew something didn’t add up about that time. Now it makes sense.”

His understanding gave me courage, and we made a plan together. That evening, Oliver convinced Richard to call a family dinner. Even Veronica, though suspicious, had no idea what was coming.

As everyone gathered, including the grandmother, my heart pounded. Taking a deep breath, I stood up.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I have something to say. I didn’t come here with a plan to disrupt your family, but now that I know the truth, I can’t keep quiet.”

All eyes were on me as I told my story: how my mother had worked here, how she’d loved Richard, and the secret she carried when she left.

“I’m not here to take anything from you,” I added, looking directly at Richard. “But your mother deserves more respect than she’s been given. She’s far more capable than you think.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Veronica’s face reddened, but before she could speak, Richard raised a hand.

“Enough,” he said firmly.

The room fell into a heavy silence. Finally, I cleared my throat, breaking the quiet.

“I think it’s better if I leave. I didn’t come here to stay, and now you finally have a chance to make things right as a family.”

My gaze moved from Richard to the grandmother, and then to Oliver. “This is your time to fix what’s broken.”

Richard’s lips parted as if to object, but he said nothing. He only nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

The next morning, I packed my bags. At the door, Oliver handed me an envelope with a salary. “You’ll always have a brother in me. Don’t be a stranger.”

A month later, I was invited back for my grandmother’s birthday. Lucas and Oliver welcomed me warmly, and Richard approached.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I ended things with Veronica. I want to make up for lost time.”

I stayed, and slowly, we became what we were meant to be. Grandmother laughed with Lucas in the garden, Oliver and I raced through morning runs, and my father and I biked along sunlit paths, sharing stories of my mother.

Together, we began to heal. At last, I had a family.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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