Elle Fanning wore a black thigh-slit column dress and Dakota Fanning chose a blush ruffled gown at a Golden Globes afterparty in 2026.
The Chateau Marmont courtyard hums with leftover award-show adrenaline when the Fanning sisters slip through the crowd, two very different moods moving in tandem. Elle leads, a streamlined arrow in inky black–deep V neckline, sharp side slit, nothing else shouting. She keeps one hand on a small clutch, black lacquer meeting candlelight. Behind her, Dakota drifts more than walks, wrapped in a cloud-pink gown layered with feathery ruffles, bodice ruched tight, skirt exploding in soft chaos. Sisters, yes, but tonight they’re a study in chiaroscuro. One line. One blur. The contrast instantly earns a slot on every celebrity red carpet reel that hunts for the perfect event appearance pair.
Grace Van Patten wore a black leather coat, striped sweater and matching trousers while walking with Tell Me Lies cast in 2026.
A bright Midtown afternoon, coffee carts hissing, taxis grumbling. Grace Van Patten cuts through it all in a long black leather trench that swings like a curtain behind her. Under the coat: a rust-and-rose striped crew-neck knit, tucked just enough into slick leather trousers that shine more than they slouch. Open-toe heels–also black, also glossy–click against the sidewalk like punctuation marks. A compact box clutch dangles from one hand; gold zipper, no fuss. Her hair hangs straight, center-parted, breezy but not messy, the kind of blonde that catches every shard of winter sun.
She’s flanked by Tell Me Lies castmates–denim jacket here, chunky gray overcoat there–yet she owns the frame. One swipe through the celebrity street style feed and you’d tag the look “rock-polished”: leather head-to-toe but softened by the almost childlike stripes. Sharp insight: when leather pairs with kindergarten colors, it stops posturing and starts storytelling–tough on the outside, playful underneath.
Quick critique. The trousers pool slightly over the peep-toe fronts, risking a wet-hem vibe if the weather turns. A crisper hem would keep the silhouette razor straight. Still, the outfit strides, not tiptoes. Mixing kindergarten stripes with biker slickness proves duality sells better than any logo.
Do the wide stripes energize the leather, or would you swap them for a monochrome knit to lean full noir?
Ariana Greenblatt wore a vintage tapestry coat with burgundy faux fur over a blue dress while filming Somedays in 2026.
Cranford’s back-street curb, gray noon light. Ariana Greenblatt steps between trailers, shooting “Somedays,” wrapped in a Vintage Wool Tapestry Coat with Faux Fur so plush it almost drags the sidewalk. The pattern–autumn browns and mossy swirls–meets shaggy wine-red trim at collar, cuffs, hem. Underneath flashes a cobalt mini dress, simple slip shape, cinched by a thin white strip that could be costuming tape or a last-second belt trick. Plaid tights peek through the coat’s swing, connecting to knee-high black leather boots with a blunt heel built for long takes, not glamour shots. Dark oval sunglasses, no jewelry, hair messy ponytail–set life shorthand for “let’s just get the next scene.”
One quick scroll of celebrity street style accounts and the look would be tagged maximalist vintage, yet here it doubles as character armor. The coat hums with 70s thrift energy–think thrift-store attic meets small-town nostalgia–which fits a film said to orbit lost days and half-remembered lovers. Sharp insight: when young actors lean into second-hand textures, they borrow time itself; the garment carries memories they haven’t earned, perfect for storytelling.
Critique, straight from the curb. The faux-fur edging is bold but heavy; camera lights may flatten its color to muddy brown, risking visual drag. A tighter trim could sharpen the silhouette. Still, the clash of tapestry, plaid, and electric blue sells a teenager-on-the-run vibe without one line of dialogue. Costume as back-story–every thread already knows more than we do, and that’s the hook.
Cultural Bridge Question: Does this tapestry-and-plaid mash-up read as authentic vintage grit or a stylist’s deliberate period pastiche?
