Frédérique Bel wore a textured ivory coat over a lace-trimmed white dress with black accessories at the Wuthering Heights Paris premiere.
At the Paris premiere of Wuthering Heights , Frédérique Bel showed up dressed like the ghost of an heiress who never fully left the English countryside. There’s a kind of puckish drama here—all soft tones, stiff boots, and a hat that’s giving Wuthering cosplay in the chicest way.
She’s wearing a textured off-white coat , part-bouclé, part-faux fur, with pocket flares that look like they were built for petting. The cut is long, softly tailored, and worn open over a white lace dress that brushes just past the knee. The waist is cinched with a black waistband , grounding the brightness and keeping it from floating off into costume territory.
And then— the black patent ankle boots , laced up, heeled, slightly witchy. That touch alone stops it from being frothy. Add a black wide-brimmed felt hat and everything sharpens: sweet turns structured, winter white gets an edge. Hair down and straight, makeup soft with flushed tones. Nothing overly styled, except the effect.
This is the sort of red carpet fashion that isn’t reaching for trend—it’s speaking in silhouette, teasing a story, and doing it with texture as the main character.
The look lands because it feels aware of the setting, yet still a step removed—like she brought her own weather.
Frédérique Bel wore a belted green leather jacket and black trousers with boots at the Marsupilami premiere in Paris, February 2026.
At the Marsupilami premiere in Paris on February 1, Frédérique Bel didn’t so much walk the carpet as stake cinematic claim to it. All angles. All attitude. It’s the kind of entrance that doesn’t whisper nostalgia or femininity—it clocks you with a cobalt stare and keeps moving.
She wears a bold green leather jacket , oversized through the shoulders, cinched at the waist with a matching leather belt—structured but not stiff, creased just enough to look like she sat at the edge of a velvet seat before stepping out. Underneath, something black and sculpted pokes through the slightly open neckline, inviting speculation but offering no answers.
Below: sharply fitted black leather pants stitched tight to the knees, then tucked into a pair of deep green pointed high-heeled boots . Cowboy-ish cut at the top. Theatrical but weirdly grounded. It’s all one palette—deep greens, electric and murky at once.
Add the spiked choker necklace —’90s goth meets cartoon villainess energy—and the entire thing collides into confidence. Not quite cosplay, not full biker. Something else: a character that hasn’t made it to screen yet, but could.
This isn’t your usual soft-focus red carpet fashion . It’s somewhere between promotional thriller poster and nightclub lounge act with a budget.
The power move here isn’t just the leather—it’s the refusal to play it safe when the cameras expect sweet.
Hilary Duff wore a ruffled sleeveless top with charcoal wide-leg trousers while stopping for ice cream in Los Angeles, February 2026.
Some days it’s just a cone, a car door, and soft tailoring. Hilary Duff was seen outside Bacio Di Latte in Los Angeles, February 4, balancing napkins, dessert, and that fine line between comfortable and styled .
The look? Quietly sculptural. A sleeveless ecru top , ruched and tiered with soft waves—everything about it intentional in texture, but easy in tone. It hits just at the waistband, not tucked or cinched, left to breathe. Paired with wide-legged charcoal trousers , high-waisted, loose to the ankle, and structured enough to avoid collapsing. The pants carry weight. Literal and visual. They say “I didn’t feel like jeans,” without yelling about it.
On foot: black pointed shoes , polished but not attention-hungry. Hair styled down, soft waves, and skin left fresh. No oversized glasses, no performative accessories. Just her, mid-movement, with a cupcake.
This is the kind of celebrity street style that offers texture over trend. Call it post-twee practicality—ruffles for the real world, not the runway.
You clock this look not because of what it shows—but for what it lets go of.
