Brooks Nader wore a form-fitting long red dress with gold heels at the Clarins Galentine’s Affair in Los Angeles on January 29, 2026.
At the Clarins Sugar & Shine Galentine’s Affair in Los Angeles, Brooks Nader walked the carpet in a red that didn’t whisper. No gradients. No shimmer. Just full-bodied scarlet, matte and sure of itself. The dress was long and clean — fitted through the body with enough stretch to hug fully without gripping. No frill at the hem, no overly architectural neckline — just a scoop deep enough to suggest drama, not demand it.
Shoulders sat strong, padded but subtle, creating a quiet power frame that worked especially well against the soft carpet and branding wall pinks. A matching belt — in red, same tone, same texture — helped break the surface tension, cinched neatly with a gold clasp that felt vintage-government-issued more than red carpet accessory. Confidence, not costume.
Gold heels, open-toed, thin straps — the kind that disappear from the ankle down. Her earrings pulled upward — circular, sculptural, mid-century energy. Hair was set back with the sort of ease that rarely comes easy: face fully revealed, a tucked strand here, a stubborn swoop there.
No purse. No loud stylist signature. This wasn’t a look trying to go viral. It was just showing up and choosing clarity over noise.
Isa Briones wore a black spaghetti-strap fringe dress with floral embroidery at the Warner Music Grammy Party on January 29, 2026.
At the 2026 Warner Music GRAMMY Party in Los Angeles, Isa Briones took a quiet but memorable detour from red carpet flash with one of the most grounded looks of the night. Nothing aggressive, nothing sculpted. Just elegant texture and slow, deliberate softness.
She wore a satin-black midi dress with a swingy, low-hung fringe hem . It hit right above the ankle, letting the strands move like threads that hadn’t been finished — or deliberately left unfinished. The neckline was scooped, narrow, held up by spaghetti straps. Not hyper-exposed, not buttoned up. Just placed.
What gave the dress its pulse was the embroidery. Clusters of florals — roses in red, pinks, creams — bloomed thoughtfully across the bodice and hip. Not scattered, not stitched for excess. Purposeful placement, like hand-touched illustrations marking where the dress meets the person wearing it. Light shines off the stitching differently than it does off the fabric. It adds movement where there’s stillness.
Briones paired it with pointed black pumps , classic in form, no detailing. Nothing distracted. Hair worn down, flipped clean over to one side. Makeup quietly emphasized the eyes — lid shimmer, a soft mauve lip. No necklace. Bare arms, no need for them to carry anything more.
Elsa Hosk wore a suede trench, pointed pumps, and a rust-colored carryall outdoors in a soft sunlit shoot on January 26, 2026.
Somewhere between evergreen hedges and champagne daylight, Elsa Hosk stood still in what felt like an accidental editorial — heavy sun casting streaks across her suede trench like a light leak caught on 35mm. Her silhouette was long, sealed, precise. Minimal color. Maximum texture.
She wore a full-length trench in soft, structured suede — taupe/burnished olive depending on the direction of the sun. It’s belted at the waist, double-breasted in a way that didn’t overpower. Buttoned clean. Rolled shoulders give it a faint 1940s military polish without shouting vintage.
Everything else was held just below the threshold of attention. Caramel leather gloves clung at the wrist. Her heels, narrow, black, angular — barely showing but unmistakable beneath the hem. In her hand: a structured, rust-toned east-west satchel , large enough for a novel, a scarf, a secret. Tucked in its side: a folded coat or fur piece, dangling out like something she’d meant to leave behind but changed her mind last minute. No logos. Just shapes and weight.
Then, the extras: oversized curved shield sunglasses , futuristic and clean. Platinum hair, loose but not carefree. Her mouth slightly open as if mid-thought. No jewelry visible. And that was the charm — nothing begged for attention. The look didn’t ask questions. It answered them before you needed to ask.
