Anna Kendrick wore a strapless Maticevski black dress, Bird on a Rock diamonds and Andrea Wazen slingbacks at Tiffany & Co.’s 2026 celebration.
The Chateau Marmont hallway feels almost too plain for so much sparkle, yet Anna Kendrick makes it work. She steps into the light in a Maticevski Sybil strapless dress –sleek black crepe through the bodice, then kicking out into crinkled-organza fins that flutter at calf level like dark petals. No color, no fuss, just texture games. Feet? Andrea Wazen Katy Slingback Pumps , mesh and leather, two skinny straps stalking toward a stiletto.
Jewelry is the whole point tonight–Tiffany & Co. throwing a bash for Amanda Seyfried’s Globe nod–so Kendrick answers with the full aviary: Tiffany & Co. Bird on a Rock Wings Pave Necklace in Platinum with Diamonds , matching Bird Earrings, and the Lovebirds Ring perched on her right hand. Stones catch every flash, turning a beige corridor into a soft-box studio worthy of a quick celebrity photos upload.
One sharp thought: in an era of loud gowns and louder discourse, a black dress only survives if it offers tension. Here it’s matte versus gloss, rigid boning against soft swoop, bird-bright diamonds next to near-monastic fabric. Minimal color, maximal contrast.
Critique? The organza panels risk bunching at mid-step, stealing a bit of the line; a touch more weight in the hem could smooth the swing. Still, the look whispers confidence–no need for a clutch, no need for neon. When fabric speaks quietly, diamonds start shouting the storyline.
Would you swap the mesh slingbacks for patent pumps to match the jewels, or does the current pairing keep the edge just sharp enough?
Ana de Armas wore a sheer black lace Louis Vuitton dress and carried a small clutch at Vas J Morgan’s Golden Globes afterparty in 2026.
Inside Vas J Morgan’s Los Angeles after-party, flashes bounce off every waiter tray, then hit Ana de Armas and pause. She moves slowly, almost careful, in a custom Louis Vuitton slip dress cut entirely from black floral lace–no lining, just a body-hugging mesh that turns underwear into ornament. The V-neck drops low, one thin strap skims her shoulder, and diagonal seams slice across the fabric like faint shadow lines. In her hand: the rigid, rectangular Louis Vuitton Malle Bag , lacquer-black, no logo screaming. On her feet (mostly hidden), delicate heels echo the dress’s transparency. Soft waves fall over one eye, jewelry stays minimal–just a whisper of a diamond tennis necklace and a slim bracelet. The scene jumps straight onto every celebrity red carpet feed craving a bold event appearance recap.
Nostalgia for ’90s sheer dressing is everywhere this award season, but de Armas tweaks the trope. The lace isn’t sweet; it reads like smoke. The look channels that modern appetite for vulnerability dressed as confidence–the thrill of almost seeing everything while knowing the tailoring is airtight. One sharp thought: transparency has become the new armor; the more skin revealed, the less room for styling errors or second-guessing.
Constructive note. The gown’s hem skims the floor without weight, causing tiny torsions that risk tripping in crowded rooms; a discreet inner ribbon could anchor the lace. Otherwise, she nails the balance–seductive, yet composed, thanks to the no-nonsense clutch and restrained gems. When fabric disappears, posture takes center stage–and de Armas stands like the room belongs to her.
Does full-body lace feel elegantly daring or has the trend crossed into expected party uniform?
Grace Van Patten wore a matte jersey top and glossy vinyl midi skirt at the Tell Me Lies Season 3 screening in 2026.
Mid-January in Manhattan. Low murmur of publicists, quick shuffle of photographers, and there she stands: Grace Van Patten, gloss meeting matte. A draped black jersey top–loose at the shoulders, neat at the neck–tucks into a high-waisted vinyl pencil skirt so shiny it steals the flash before it hits the backdrop. The skirt clings, then drops to mid-calf, splitting slightly at the back for movement. Sheer black tights, pointed pumps, one silver ring. That’s it. No necklace, no bag, not even earrings fighting for airtime. It’s the kind of celebrity red carpet restraint that makes silence feel loud.
The look banks on texture contrast rather than color fireworks. Soft fabric up top, almost liquid plastic below–two halves of the same noir story. 2026’s red-carpet drift toward “quiet kink” (think latex-lite, board-meeting silhouettes) lands neatly here. One sleeve slouches, hair spills in loose, beach-quake waves, but the vinyl keeps everything disciplined. When softness and shine share a single shade, the eye starts listening for nuance it usually skips.
Constructive quibble: the jersey’s relaxed cut risks bunching at the waistband, blurring that razor-sharp waist the skirt wants to frame. A subtle tuck or hidden snap could lock the proportions. Minor gripe though; the overall vibe is sleek, modern, unbothered.
Would a patent stiletto have amplified the vinyl’s edge, or does the current pump keep the balance just right?
