Addison Rae wore a customized Poster Girl dress adorned with money motifs at the Sony Music Group Grammy after-party in LA, February 2026.
At the Sony Music Group Grammy Celebration in Los Angeles on February 1, 2026, Addison Rae walked into after-party territory and skipped subtlety entirely. What she wore wasn’t a nod to pop excess—it flat-out was pop excess.
Her look? A customized Poster Girl “Invisible” dress —a translucent fitted body sheath with pink lingerie straps and glitter resin shine—and scattered all over it: fake $100 bills. Crinkled, clumped, staged bills. Tunneled into the bustline and frilled around the hem like busted corsage petals. Some tied up with glossy pale green ribbon. Others just hanging, like they’d been seized mid-toss in a strip club hurricane.
The base itself is the brand’s signature: ultra-stretch mesh that wraps the body like breathable plastic. No defined cups, no waistband, just that second-skin cling. And yet the choice of material doesn’t overpower the theme—the money details pull hard focus. She paired the look with a massive cocktail ring —bubblegum pink, size-of-a-nickel—chunky and gaudy in a way that makes perfect sense here.
Makeup played it safe: clean skin, a glossed lip with enough pink pop to echo the satin straps. Her hair stayed down, parted, flirt-curled—classic Addison. She smiled wide, like someone who knew this wasn’t elegance and didn’t care in the least.
From a distance, it reads like irony. From up close, it’s just staging. Rae’s look wasn’t about fashion nuance—it was a wink, a joke, a strip-mall fantasy rerouted through high fashion absurdity.
Julia Garcia wore a wine lace gown with peep-toe heels for the Scream 7 x Meta Creator event in Los Angeles on February 3, 2026.
At the Scream 7 x Meta Creator Event in Los Angeles on February 3, Julia Garcia didn’t shy away from drama—but she kept hers romantic, not slasher. Standing next to Ghostface, she nailed the contrast: soft curves, deep tone, clean lines… and zero fear.
She wore a plum-red lace dress , full-length and form-skimming, with a plunging neckline edged in scalloped lace. The fabric clung where it should and relaxed where it could, no slit, no bells or whistles. It wasn’t flashy. Just fitted. A dress that works when you stand still and ruins nothing when you move.
Shoes? Champagne satin peep-toe platforms . Glossy, rounded at the front, high enough to polish the look without dragging it toward old-Hollywood cliché. Jewelry stayed light—small hoops, maybe pavé, and a single pendant necklace. No hard sparkle. A few gold rings, nothing overstuffed. Hair was styled loose but pinned up slightly in the back—half pony or twist, soft waves falling forward. Not overproduced.
Her makeup walked the same line—brows groomed, cheeks flushed, lips in that fleshy pink-beige that’s less about color and more about finish. It all felt lived in. She knew she was stepping into a horror theme, but chose intimacy instead of costume.
There’s a quiet power in showing up to a gimmick-heavy space wearing something that’s just beautiful—and refusing to match the chaos.
Lili Reinhart wore a textured burgundy gown with a sweetheart neckline and matching peep-toe heels at SCAD TVfest in February 2026.
At the 2026 SCAD TVfest in Atlanta, Lili Reinhart stood calm and wine-toned against a black-and-gold backdrop—Spotlight Award trophy in hand, posture set like someone who’s been here before, but still appreciates the moment.
She wore a deep burgundy gown , close-fitted through the body in a matte textured fabric. Not sparkly. Not floaty. Something almost jacquard, or lace backed by structure. It hugged the frame straight down with slight flare at the hem—not dramatic, just enough to let it move. The neckline carried everything: slightly off-the-shoulder, molded into a soft sweetheart curve , edged with scallops and tiny gathers that added visual lift without over-designing.
Footwear was color-matched burgundy peep-toe heels , barely peeking under the hem, just enough height to keep everything elevated. Accessories? Minimal. One cocktail ring, low-key manicure to match the dress, and no visible bag. Hair pulled back into a soft twist or bun (the back isn’t visible, but it’s not loose), clean with a few flyaways—natural on purpose. Skin looked fresh, blush high, brows brushed and held in place. No shimmer overload. Just enough highlighting to catch the lens without catching too much attention.
She didn’t layer on fashion. She wore something that stays close, feels confident, and leaves space for the actual moment. No hard lines. No high gloss. Just quiet texture and a dress that understood where it needed to stop.
