Jordyn Jones wore white shorts, tall cowboy boots, and a cropped brown tee in an equestrian-themed photoshoot captured in January 2026.
Standing beside a braided palomino and sunlit under California trees, Jordyn Jones looked less like she was posing and more like she’d just stepped out for a moment, leash in hand. Her vibe—a little country, a little play—it wasn’t styled to impress with editorial polish. This was barefoot-in-the-grass energy, just with boots on.
She wore a fitted chocolate brown baby tee , cropped to the hem of her ribs and printed with a faded white graphic. The cotton clung just enough to feel lived-in. Nothing pristine. Tucked beneath: micro white shorts , textured and ruched like summer swim or sleepwear—wrinkled in that beautifully human way. No gloss. Just sunlight, skin, and movement.
The real anchor came from the knee-high cowboy boots — leather tooled with classic western flourishes, their bulk grounding the otherwise minimal outfit. They weren’t dusty, but they weren’t perfectly polished either. Props that didn’t feel like props. A wardrobe piece actually walked in. The boots did the storytelling with tread.
Adria Arjona was seen in a full-length black leather coat with faux fur trim while filming “Scorn” in Yorkshire, England, January 28, 2026.
Between takes on the Yorkshire set of her new erotic thriller Scorn , Adria Arjona didn’t break character — she just stood there, effortlessly iconic in a black-on-black winter shell that looked more noir anti-hero than actor off-duty. The coat—long, oversized, heavy—looked soaked in cinematic mood, trimmed in black faux fur so dense it blurred into the shadows where her lapels should be.
Shay Mitchell wore a black embellished suit with draped detailing at the Zuhair Murad Haute Couture Spring 2026 show in Paris.
At the Zuhair Murad Haute Couture Spring/Summer 2026 show in Paris, Shay Mitchell walked in with a look that didn’t lean romantic or reckless — it felt architectural. Softly severe. Like a whispered warning in silk.
She wore a structured black suit, but not the expected kind. Yes, the tailoring was blunt: wide-leg trousers that floated down to the floor, the sharp tip of black stiletto boots slicing out at the hem. But the top half broke convention — a jacket with deliberate asymmetry, draped across her torso like a scarf had been stitched in permanently. The lapel swallowed the neckline. On one side, ornamental metal rings and draped chains created a line of subtle tension. Something between jewelry and hardware. Nothing sparkled, but everything caught light.
The fabric looked expensive in that specific way heavy crepe does — matte unless touched by flash, dense enough to cast its own shadow. Sleeves went long. There was no shirt underneath. Just skin, structure, and the type of confidence that doesn’t blink.
Hair was pulled back, tight and glossy. Makeup focused upward — smoky liner, lifted cheekbone. No clutch in hand. No over-styled extras.
