True to form, Miley Cyrus blasted through this year’s Grammys like a wrecking ball. Hair teased to the cosmos, she hit the red carpet in a risqué Maison ­Margiela Artisanal dress made out of 14,000 gold safety pins—the first of five dramatic outfits. She performed “Flowers,” the best-selling global single of last year, in shimmering vintage Bob Mackie, serving face and ­tossing quips (“Why are you acting like you don’t know this song?”) with ’70s-Cher aplomb. After slipping into a one-shoulder sequined Gucci number by Sabato De Sarno, the veteran singer accepted Record of the Year with a wink-wink, nudge-nudge acknowledgement that it was her very first Grammy win. “This award is amazing, but I really hope that it doesn’t change anything, because my life was beautiful yesterday,” she said, before cracking a joke about going commando on music’s biggest night.

Cyrus is finally getting industry respect after decades of being pigeonholed: first as the daughter of the country crooner Billy Ray Cyrus, then as a Disney-fied teen dream, and later as an advocate of in-your-face female sexuality. “No shade,” Cyrus told me matter-of-factly, “but I’ve been doing this for 20 years, and this is my first time actually being taken seriously at the Grammys? I’ve had a hard time figuring out what the measurement is there, because if we want to talk stats and numbers, then where the fuck was I? And if you want to talk, like, impact on culture, then where the fuck was I? This is not about arrogance. I am proud of myself.”

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