Kaley Cuoco wore a black satin Simkhai suit with Pomellato jewelry to the 2026 Critics Choice Awards ceremony.
Kaley Cuoco walks the carpet at the Barker Hangar in Santa Monica. It is January 4, 2026, for the 31st Annual Critics Choice Awards. She bypasses the gown rack entirely. Instead, she wears a black suit that looks almost liquid under the strobes. This is the Simkhai Norah Blazer paired with the Simkhai Kyra Pant . The fabric is a high-sheen satin, dark and slippery, creating a silhouette that is less about structure and more about drape. It is a notable shift in the usual celebrity red carpet playbook, trading corsetry for something that moves like water.
There is a distinct mood here—a rejection of the “armored” woman. In a season where stiffness often equals formality, this look leans into the “pajama dressing” revival but cleans it up for the cameras. It suggests a desire for comfort that doesn’t sacrifice polish, a recognition that one can attend a high-stakes industry event without holding one’s breath for four hours. It feels modern, slightly undone, and entirely sensible.
The execution is tricky, though. Satin is an unforgiving narrator; it tells you exactly where the fabric folds, bunches, or pulls. The blazer is cut generous and boxy, swallowing the waist, while the trousers pool aggressively at the floor. It risks looking a bit messy, a bit too relaxed for the venue. To counteract the slouch, the jewelry works hard. She wears a Pomellato Catene Necklace , a heavy chain link piece that adds necessary weight and sparkle near the face. The look is finished with Pomellato Nudo Earrings and a Pomellato Nudo Ring , injecting small points of light into the dark expanse of fabric. It’s a brave choice—a tailored garment that refuses to be stiff.
Emily Mortimer wore a dark brown velvet gown with sheer lace cuffs and gold heels to the 2026 Critics Choice Awards.
Emily Mortimer arrives at the Barker Hangar in Santa Monica. It is January 4, 2026, for the 31st Annual Critics Choice Awards. She opts for weight. While others drift by in tulle or barely-there mesh, she is encased in dark, chocolate velvet. The gown is a column of shadow, featuring a ruffled high neck and puffed sleeves that collapse into black sheer lace cuffs at the elbow. It is a distinct pivot in celebrity style , rejecting the pervasive demand for skin exposure in favor of something historical, almost hermetic.
This look feels like it wandered out of a moody period drama and got lost on the way to the library. In a cultural moment obsessed with the “clean girl” aesthetic and sleek futurism, this is dusty, romantic defiance. It evokes the wardrobe of a Victorian governess who has secretly come into money. There is a coziness to it, a refusal to participate in the athletic rigors of standard red carpet dressing. It suggests a desire for protection, for fabric that acts as a barrier rather than a window.
Technically, it is a risk. Velvet under the harsh scrutiny of red carpet lighting can often look flattened or muddy, but here the deep brown holds its richness. The silhouette is forgiving, perhaps too much so—it hangs rather than clings. The sleeve detail, with that sudden transition from heavy velvet to flimsy black lace, borders on costume. It’s a bit theatrical, melodramatic even. A flash of a metallic gold shoe at the hem provides the only sharp edge in a look that is otherwise entirely soft focus. It is not cool. It is not trying to be. It is a quiet, comfortable rebellion against the tyranny of the body-con.
Kristen Bell wore a black lace-paneled Elie Saab Halter Neck Dress to the 2026 Critics Choice Awards ceremony.
Kristen Bell stands on the dark carpet in Santa Monica. It is January 4, 2026, the night of the 31st Annual Critics Choice Awards. She has chosen an Elie Saab Halter Neck Dress . It is black, stark, and unrelentingly vertical. The gown features a high halter neckline that slices inward at the shoulders, anchored by a sheer bodice overlaid with black lace. This isn’t delicate, bridal lace; it’s graphic, almost web-like. Solid fabric creates a column down the center front and skirt, flanked by these shadowy, transparent panels. It is a familiar rhythm in celebrity red carpet history—using negative space to make a black dress feel less like a uniform.
This feels like a correction. A step back from the performative whimsy that often dominates her public image. There is no bright color here, no playful volume. Just severity. It aligns with a broader fatigue in Hollywood fashion, where stars seem to be retreating into the safety of “serious” clothes. It suggests a mood that is less about entertaining the gallery and more about simply surviving the flashbulbs with dignity intact.
The verdict? It is precise. The lace bodice fits with a tension that prevents it from looking sloppy, a common risk with sheer inserts. The geometry of the lace—forming a chevron shape at the waist—attempts to engineer an hourglass figure, though the transition between the sheer top and the solid skirt feels a bit abrupt. A harsh line. The skirt itself pools slightly, heavy and matte. Her styling is minimal, almost an afterthought. Loose tendrils of hair escape an updo, softening the architectural harshness of the halter neck. It’s not an outfit that screams for attention; it waits for it. A calculated use of darkness to clear the noise.
