I’m a Jewish fashion editor. Galliano’s Met Gala should happen even though it’s hurtful.

It’s hard to light a dress on fire without triggering fire alarms, but I did it in 2011. First I knocked down the smoke detector in my tiny apartment with a Swiffer. Then I doused the dress — a Christian Dior cotton mini by John Galliano that I’d scrounged for $65 at Goodwill — with lighter fluid in my bathtub. Then I wept. I was burning the dress because I’d been a sucker. Like everyone else who worked in fashion, I believed John Galliano was the GOAT — the Jalen Brunson of runway shows. He turned clothes into art and his pieces fit every body, even the not-so-skinny ones, with astonishing precision. Fashion people worshipped him the…