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.
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.
Charli XCX wore a vintage open-knit Galliano set and Saint Laurent skirt for her SiriusXM appearance in Beverly Hills on January 28, 2026.
At the SiriusXM taping of The Julia Cunningham Show in Beverly Hills, Charli XCX showed up in a look that whispered drama but never screamed. It was vintage, layered, a little goth, a little romantic, but mostly—truthful. No sheen, no gloss. It looked lived-in, and that made it land.
Her look leaned heavily into texture. She wore a John Galliano Autumn/Winter 2003 openwork set , a cardigan and camisole layered together, both in rich black lace, detailed with delicate floral beading across the chest. The cardigan hangs just a bit loose, like it’s been buttoned half a beat too casually—because it probably was. Sleeves elongated, lightly flared, a ghost of the early 2000s, but recast in noir minimalism.
On the bottom? A Saint Laurent pointelle midi skirt , perfectly matched in tone but more structured in knit, cinching her rhythm and elongating her frame toward the grounded finish: sharp patent black Christian Louboutin Miss Z pumps , glossy enough to catch a blink, not enough to blind. No glitz. No excessive jewelry—just a clean Claude Morady solitaire ring blinking subtly on the hand, and that’s it.
Hair long, softly waved, tucked easily behind the shoulders. Makeup was flat-lined and fresh. Brows a little undone. Lips matte. Expression spare and unfussy.
Charli’s presence at this kind of media event always brings a quiet tension. She doesn’t dress for fashion headlines or fan tweets—she dresses like she doesn’t care who sees it. Which, of course, is what makes you watch. There’s nothing overt or forced here, no fashion-house fawning. Just archival femininity cut through with punk intuition.
In a room where looks often expire mid-photo, this one lingers.
