Cara Delevingne wore a structured Wiederhoeft corset gown and glittering gloves to the Wuthering Heights world premiere on January 28, 2026.
On January 28, at the Wuthering Heights premiere at TCL Chinese Theatre, Cara Delevingne arrived looking like she had just stepped out of a 19th-century glamor fever dream—cinched, sculpted, and sharpened at the edges.
She wore a velvet-and-satin hybrid Wiederhoeft corset dress , deep plum across the chest fading into black down below, the color story moody but intentional. The bodice was tight—frame-sculpting, no room for air—and the plunge? Dramatic without sliding into parody. Boning in the corset stood strong, paneling clean, balanced by wide-set spaghetti straps that dared to do very little.
The skirt—black, knotted with micro-glitter, almost wet-looking—hugged just enough before loosening in ripples at the hem. Cropped just at mid-calf, it let the silhouette breathe without overextending. The finishing punch? Opera-length black glittering gloves , which felt more midnight cabaret than bridal elegance. They weren’t here to compliment. They were here to fight.
On her feet: black pointed stilettos with transparent ankle ties—delicate but unapologetically fetish-coded. Add a stoned Victorian choker necklace, slicked bun, bare brows, and that signature stare—and the look locks. Not soft. Structured. Cut from poetry and vinegar.
Kathryn Newton wore a sheer black lace dress with velvet trim to the Wuthering Heights premiere in Los Angeles on January 28, 2026.
At the Wuthering Heights world premiere in Los Angeles, Kathryn Newton stepped through the red-and-green entrance in something that felt like gothic romanticism softened by charm. A dress you might expect in a Tim Burton prom sequence. But grounded. Sweet, even.
She wore a black lace dress layered over a beige-nude underlay, the contrast giving the look a carved feel—more graphic than delicate. The lace isn’t fragile—it holds every line like it means it. There’s a faint shimmer to it as well, something metallic or simply well-lit. Either way, the light clings to it like moss on stone.
Trimmed in black velvet, the piece features sharp central paneling that keeps it structured without going stiff. Long sleeves, sheer but not weightless. The hem hits above the knee, classic and slightly boxy. Button detailing travels up a black placket, breaking up the lace with cozy precision.
She styles it with sheer black tights and glossy black platform heels, finishing the look without pushing too hard. The most unexpected touch? Fingerless lace gloves—an almost theatrical gesture that doesn’t overwhelm. It whispers, rather than shouts. Glam but approachable.
Her hair is softly curled, parted in the center, curtain bangs framing her face. The makeup is clean—sweet pink lip, defined liner, lashes, flushed cheek. There’s something porcelain-doll-meets-pop-girl in the whole construction.
Charli XCX wore a golden Vivienne Westwood gown and Darius Jewels for the Wuthering Heights red carpet premiere in Hollywood on January 28.
At the Wuthering Heights world premiere in Hollywood, Charli XCX showed up draped in storm-era femininity—something straight out of a haunted music box, or a couture time capsule from a dusty theater backstage. It’s a look that doesn’t beg to be worn. It devours everything around it.
She was dressed in a heroic custom Vivienne Westwood gown , voluminous and sculpted, dipped in layers of luminous gold tulle. Think Victorian ghost meets galactic debutante. The silhouette was pure drama: a corset-tight bodice melting into massive, balloon-like side panniers that bloomed out like tulle soaked in champagne. There’s no apology in the architecture—it’s maximal, with hard garland lines around a soft body.
The neckline? Asymmetrical, fragile, a little ripped in movement. One side sliding off the shoulder. The hem pooled lazily behind her, like she might float backward any second. No need for a necklace—her hair fell long and dark, natural waves tumbling down, absorbing the light. The makeup was soft, but not innocent. Warmed lids, sculpted cheeks, lips with just enough structure.
The finishing touch? Rings, and lots of them. A cluster of Darius Jewels —heritage cuts and nuanced yellows and browns layered across her fingers like a private treasure stack. The asymmetry wasn’t random; it was coded.
