Julia Butters wore a fitted off-shoulder black midi dress with sheer tights and pointed heels at the Dior Addict Sweet Shop event in 2026.
At the Dior Addict Sweet Shop party in Los Angeles on February 3, 2026, Julia Butters didn’t flirt with the candy-colored chaos surrounding her. She anchored it. Inside that bubblegum world—glossy pink walls, clear plastic seating, cartoon curves—she held the frame in matte black, pulled tight with intention.
Her look was compact. A sleek off-shoulder black midi dress , cinched and clean, with the neckline pulled wide across the collarbones—like it had been drawn there with a soft pencil. No extra volume, no sparkle or prints. Just a quiet, body-close silhouette that hit below the knee in a straight flex. She wore semi-sheer black tights with subtle sheen and pointed-toe heels topped with delicate bow detail.
No statement earrings or purse in hand. Just a thin spiked necklace , a bracelet ribbon still tied from check-in, and her nails kept short, glossy. The elegance was tight. Nothing floated.
Standing in a room that looked like it had been dipped in Pepto and plastic, she came through like punctuation—lowkey, sharp, solid. The look didn’t need to shout “fashion moment.” Because it wasn’t playing for the moment. It was stylistic discipline , wrapped up in event-casual ease.
Butters’ black-on-black presence reads like a little rebellion—declaring that the real sweetness comes from confidence, not color. While others played with sugar, she brought salt—and the room needed both.
Anya Taylor-Joy wore a Dior custom ivory strapless dress with metallic trim and custom pointed pumps at the Dior Addict Sweet Shop in 2026.
At the Dior Addict Sweet Shop party in Los Angeles on February 3, 2026, Anya Taylor-Joy showed up looking like she’d been carved out of pearl—cool, soft, and just barely glowing. No bold statement, no flashing trend, no high-concept layering. Just precise restraint turned into presence.
She wore a Dior custom dress , strapless and ivory-toned with a milk-skin chill. Not quite a gown, not languid enough to be called floaty—this sat somewhere between structure and ease, its softly pleated bodice cinched by a delicate tie belt. The skirt fell mid-calf in gentle folds, and at the hem: a whisper of sparkle. Icy silver shimmer stitched along the edges in uneven strokes, like frost curling at the edge of old glass.
Finished with pointed Dior custom pumps , tonal to the dress and barely peeking out beneath the hem. Her hair? Long, center-parted, and pinned behind the shoulders—sleek and quiet. A single bracelet circled her wrist. Makeup didn’t try to lead; eyes softly lined, lips matte and pale rose. Everything dialed low.
In the hyper-pink backdrop of teacup curves and glazed vinyl props, hers was a look that knew better than to compete with the room. Stillness over noise. Clean over clever. Taylor-Joy’s look speaks to a rare discipline in event dressing: removing everything unnecessary until elegance is the only thing left.
Millie Leer wore a pastel pink satin mini skirt and cropped button-up jacket at the Dior Addict Sweet Shop party in Los Angeles, February 2026.
At the Dior Addict Sweet Shop party in Los Angeles on February 3, 2026, Millie Leer stepped squarely into the pink noise of a brand dreaming in sugar and gloss. No drama, no fuss—just a fresh, clean take on red carpet fashion that reads more boutique dollhouse than haute spectacle.
She went full monochrome, wearing a pale pink satin cropped jacket with sharp lapels and a row of reflective buttons—something between sleepwear and showroom. The matching satin mini skirt hit high and clean on the thigh, skimming the upper leg without clinging. There’s no embellishment here. Only sheen and fit. The kind of look that relies entirely on texture and proportion.
Clear wraparound glasses , minimal silver hoops , and a sleek center-parted bob keep it modern, almost clinical. Pointed kitten heels in white patent leather deliver the only flourish, adding just enough polish to say “party” without veering into overdressed.
In a setting that could’ve swallowed her whole—floor, walls, fixtures all a near-identical Barbie pink—she resisted the bait to match maximalism with more maximalism. And that’s maybe the smartest move here: staying flat in texture, light on contrast, letting the room do the loud talking.
There’s a subtle line being played: softness, yes—but not vulnerable. This isn’t a pastel plea. Leer’s streamlined satin separates feel intentionally juvenile—weaponizing sweetness the way pop stars use innocence as armor. It’s not shy. It’s measured, strategic. Cool on contact.
