For the first time in history, the most uncomfortable people on a red carpet weren’t women; they were Ryan Seacrest and Giuliana Rancic. Last night, the 75th annual Golden Globe awards tore through Hollywood with the brute force of the Molotov cocktails launched from the hands of Frances McDormand in Three Billboards. The show was packed with powerful feminist speeches, caustic digs at the lack of nominated female directors, and inspiring sisterhood. But while the show undoubtedly differed from previous Golden Globes ceremonies, the most conspicuous difference from years past was the red carpet. For as long as I can remember, I’ve never seen women as transparently happy, at ease, and proud on a carpet. After years of begging to #AskHerMore, the pre-shows finally reflected an alleviating tonal shift. Women held correspondents to a higher standard, and the result was a gripping and educational show aligned with a long overdue celebration of female voices.

But Golden Globes are often dubbed “Hollywood’s biggest party,” so with such grim undertones and all the fraught conversation leading up to Sunday night, why were women so relieved? For women like Meryl Streep and Nicole Kidman, who have been doing this for decades, I’m sure it was mollifying to answer questions outside of, “How do you balance your career with motherhood?” Beyond that, though, they were finally able to speak about social causes that matter so deeply to these women—and to women around the world.

Many actors gave up their own time reserved for speaking on their nominations and breadth of work to instead give voices to the activists they brought as dates—like Michelle Williams, who brought Tarana Burke, the #MeToo founder and Senior Director at Girls for Gender Equity. Or Emma Watson, who brought Marai Larasi, the Executive Director of Imkaan, an organization that aims to protect black women and girls from violence. It was interesting to watch red carpet correspondents like Ryan Seacrest or Carson Daily grapple with this new standard—as a feminist, there was something inherently voyeuristic about watching them learn about a breadth of intersectional feminist causes and organizations, live on TV. They were not just there to celebrate fashion and excellence in film and television, they were also expected to uphold a certain level of journalistic integrity.

Actually, journalistic integrity was a running theme this year. Jodi Kantor, one of the journalists who broke the Harvey Weinstein story in October, represented the New York Times as a red carpet correspondent. Activism aside, many red carpet institutions were visibly divergent and sometimes even gender-swapped. While women were busy giving voices to major activists or answering tough questions about social issues, male actors were left treading water. Actors like Milo Ventimiglia and Joseph Fiennes were asked to speak about the most buzz-worthy shows. That’s not abnormal, of course—what was abnormal was that all of these shows were led by women. Ventimiglia, for example, declared that his favorite show this year was The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel; Fiennes’ spoke on the brilliance of The Handmaid’s Tale, in which he plays a supporting role. Not only were women centered and elevated on this year’s red carpet, but their male counterparts were put in a position to obsequiously praise them. When have we ever seen that happen before?

Overall, there was a soothing blend of activism and celebration. GLOW’s Alison Brie gave an interview in which she flawlessly swung between speaking on the strength of female stories and the issues that plague women in the workplace everyday. It’s a perfect example of why women were so happy last night: They were being rewarded and admired for their brilliant work while giving marginalized women an opportunity to shine a light on causes that are both personal and global. Meanwhile, Seacrest asked Neil Patrick Harris time-filling fluff like, “What’s your New Year’s Resolution?” To which Harris declared, “Better posture.”

With that being said, the carpet wasn’t perfect. I do wish men were held to a higher standard, and a little corner of my soul acerbically cackled every time one was asked about something petty (like the New Year’s resolution question above). Still, when it comes down to it, sexual harassment is men’s problem too. Since the beginning of our cultural reckoning with harassment and assault, women have been responsible for changing the culture. It was women who broke the story, it was women who came forward, it was women who organized #MeToo and Time’s Up, and it was women who banded together to make this powerful blackout statement on the red carpet.

Men were left twisting in the wind to answer questions about their attempts at solidarity—like wearing a Time’s Up pin—but their lack of participation was their choice. While I appreciated the male actors who gave women the opportunity to speak louder than them last night, the pervasive problem of workplace harassment and assault will never change until men begin holding each other accountable too. Take Justin Timberlake: He made a pre-carpet Time’s Up statement on social media, but was never asked about his role in Woody Allen’s latest film Wonder Wheel on the carpet. Overall, the men last night looked to be along for the ride—and maybe they are. Eventually, though, we will have to demand more and hold them to the standard we held women to last night. At its core, women and men are victims of these crimes; there’s something inherently victim-shaming in forcing women to deal with it on their own.

But enough about men. The real winners last night weren’t just the women who brought activists as their dates, but rather the brazenness and unapologetic manner in which they attacked the carpet. Debra Messing, Laura Dern, and Eva Longoria called out E! for the gendered pay gap that led Catt Sadler, the network’s former correspondent, to quit—while live on E! Their audacious lash outs against the culture that has stifled them for decades echoed the characters we celebrated last night, like Mildred Hayes in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing or Molly Bloom in Molly’s Game.

Admittedly, part of me was skeptical about the blackout statement. In a time when women are breaking free of our chains and calling out misogyny in brutal ways, it felt icky to be told what to do or wear. But the statement of solidarity shone bright last night, brighter than I had expected. Because the fashion on the carpet was so uniform, it took the pressure off dressing to impress. There were no statement dresses or standouts to distract from the unified message of the night—something I could’ve never predicted.

Obviously, the work here isn’t done. But with the very promising announcement of the Time’s Up legal defense fund and the activists that swept the carpet last night, this looks like just the beginning.

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