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.
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.
Lisa wore a cropped Nike hoodie, wide-leg pants, and Air Max sneakers for a fashion shoot captured on a staircase in January 2026.
For what appears to be a quiet-but-powerful campaign moment with Nike Sportswear, Lisa stood stone-still on a stairwell carved from beige geometry—and turned a hoodie into a headline. The tone is cool. Not performative or forced. Just steady.
She’s wearing a cropped black Nike hoodie , sleeves down, hood up. Not cinched. The hem breaks perfectly at the midrib to reveal a white Nike sports bra with the signature swoosh tight against her chest. Logo placement here isn’t an afterthought—it’s part of the balance. Branding as symmetry.
Her high-waisted black pants are loose and structured at once. No extra details. No pleats or noise. Just two giant leg columns, calmly swallowing the shape of her calves. Slightly frayed or wrinkled at the bottom, which only makes the whole thing less precious. And then—the shoes: a pair of Nike Air Max 95s , pale grey with black and pinkish-beige accents, grounded but styled, not gym-ready.
Hair falls long and blunt, parted slightly off-center, ends razor-cut. She looks like she just walked out of something sharper than a studio. There’s zero gloss. No flashy makeup. No earring sparkle. Just movement, material, and air.
Lisa in this moment doesn’t deliver pop star energy. She delivers distance. And maybe that’s where sportswear is headed in 2026—not flex, but flow. The photo rejects sweat and chaos. Instead, it glorifies the stillness after . That exact moment on the marble steps when your breath has returned, and you just look up and walk forward.
