Jenna Ortega’s STARBURST cover for Issue 491 blends gothic precision with behind-the-scenes grit, as Wednesday returns sharper and stranger.
In STARBURST Magazine’s Issue 491, Jenna Ortega stares out from the cover, braided and buttoned, stitched hand resting on her shoulder. It’s Wednesday, but more layered. The black-and-white stripes, the tie, the stare — all familiar. But the tone feels heavier.
Inside, the second season of Wednesday unfolds with new tension. Ortega’s now a producer, weighing in on blood color, prosthetics, and costume approvals. She talks about learning from Tim Burton directly, about the freedom to play and the safety of being pulled back when needed. It’s not just performance anymore — it’s control.
The fashion shifts too. Less denim, more structure. Sharp coats, layered tulle, a detective silhouette from the ’60s. Gothic, yes, but more precise. Colleen Atwood and Mark Sutherland push the lines tighter.
The family’s back. Morticia, Gomez, Pugsley — now full-time. Uncle Fester returns, and Grandmamma arrives, played by Joanna Lumley. Ortega and Zeta-Jones were star-struck. Burton calls Morticia and Gomez a “beautiful odd couple,” and Pugsley “an outcast among outcasts.”
The show’s still about Wednesday. Her growth is subtle, almost invisible. She’s still not fond of school. Still sharp. Still strange. But the world around her gets louder, and she stays still.
Charli XCX wore a custom Chrome Hearts leather corset gown with platform heels and layered gemstone jewels to the 2026 GRAMMY Awards.
At the 68th GRAMMY Awards on February 1, 2026, at Crypto.com Arena in Los Angeles, Charli XCX didn’t roll in so much as stake claim. This wasn’t slick red carpet polish. This was rock-muse armor. A full Chrome Hearts custom look in black leather—yes, real leather—cut into a structured corset-style bodice with silver buttons and hard-seamed shaping. The skirt, also leather, skimmed to the floor in a rigid maxi length. One slit at the back. No movement. It creaked. It owned.
What settled the whole thing in fantasy territory was the belt —a thick Western-inspired piece with tooled metal hardware, ridged edges, and ornate shoulder-of-Texas energy. Not playful. Aggressive. Styled with platform black pumps , high-gloss finish, nothing dainty there either. And then came the sparkle.
At the neck, two layered necklaces told two different stories. One: a Chrome Hearts Cuban chain , industrial, street. The other: a high-shine, impossibly blue Tiffany & Co. High Jewellery necklace set in platinum, floating with tanzanite and diamonds. The excess was deliberate. Shoulders clean. Arms bare. Face framed with waves of pitch-black hair, center-parted, cascading in deep-glam curls.
She clutched something neutral—a minimalist boxy clutch , bronze-brown, matte. And on her finger: a Claude Morady solitaire engagement ring , seen clear as day when her hand rose to the mic.
The look didn’t scream music. It hummed rebellion. It felt like control more than chaos—more Madonna 2003 than pop-star-of-today formula. She didn’t come dressed to win; she came dressed to menace the front row with leather and good jewelry.
Heidi Klum wore a flesh-toned sculpted latex body-mold dress and nude pumps to the 2026 GRAMMY Awards in Los Angeles.
At the 68th GRAMMY Awards , held February 1, 2026, at the Crypto.com Arena in Los Angeles, Heidi Klum once again walked the red carpet without flinching. What she wore was neither subtle nor soft—this was fashion as provocation, delivered in near silence. The latex midi dress , molded to mimic her own naked form, came in a peach-nude so close to her skin tone it nearly disappeared at first glance. Only when the light bounced off the ultra-glossy finish did the sculptural absurdity become clear: breasts, ribs, hips—all embossed anatomically , like an airbrushed scan pressed onto plastic wrap. A blunt, knowing visual joke. But not a cheap one.
It’s camp minimalism: no color, no pattern, not even seams to chase. Just a surreal, second body sealed tightly around her own. Even the hemline, with its uneven raw-cut edge , feels peeled rather than styled. A few small silver buckle clasps along the sides. No jewelry overload, just rings on both hands . And those nude pumps , blunt-toe and unassuming, melt into the red carpet like the dress melts into the skin.
Her hair was left loose— long, center-parted, wavy , beachy but brushed—not fussed over. Makeup sat quietly too: nude lip, soft bronze eye , that’s it. The whole choicescape was focused around letting the dress speak, and maybe even snicker.
This isn’t about elegance. It’s not transgressive either. What it is—slick, funny, slightly unnerving—is a kind of latex meta-commentary. You want skin? Here, have all of it—sterilized, rubberized, hard to unsee.
