Lee Levi wore a plunging red halter gown with a floor-length train to the 2026 London Critics’ Circle Film Awards in Mayfair.
At the 46th London Critics’ Circle Film Awards on February 1, 2026, Lee Levi arrived in a bold flash of saturated silk. A true red carpet fashion move—she walked in wearing a radiant, liquid-finish crimson gown that was all clean lines right up until it wasn’t.
Top to hem, it’s a statement on restraint dressed as heat. The halter neckline rises into a choker collar, no visible clasp, just subtle tension. From there, the deep, front-facing plunge drops nearly to the waist, clean and narrow, with no mesh panel or invisible netting to break it up. Just skin and gravity and trust in the cut.
The waist is cinched with a simple fold-over sash—fabric-on-fabric, tonal. No sparkle. The skirt moves long and fluid down to her feet and beyond: a soft train puddled behind her in loose waves. Material reads satin, strong sheen under flash. There’s no embroidery, no architectural structure. Just movement built by weight and drape.
Her hair is slicked back in a clean updo , not over-styled, not messy—just out of the way. Gold hoop earrings , one delicate gold bracelet , and a confidently bare décolletage. Her glam is try-less: brushed-up brows, sheer foundation, pink-glossy lip. Enough to catch the lens. Not enough to try too hard.
Fashion here isn’t so much pushed forward as it is held still—and lit beautifully.
Jessie Buckley wore a sequined ivory jumpsuit with bishop sleeves to the 2026 London Critics’ Circle Film Awards at The May Fair Hotel.
At the 46th London Critics’ Circle Film Awards on February 1, 2026, Jessie Buckley embraced stillness in a sea of satin. While others showed skin or silhouette, she showed structure and shimmer. A head-to-toe ivory jumpsuit , blanketed in micro-sequins, demanded nothing — but held every eye.
Let’s start from the top. A high neck, long-sleeved cut , softly padded at the shoulders, made the whole thing read like a hybrid: somewhere between a red carpet gown and a tailored onesie for a disco poet . The bishop sleeves puffed slightly, finishing tight at the wrist. A subtle volume move — felt more than flaunted. The pants? Long and straight, soft drape, no flare, no fuss. The feet disappeared beneath them, save for metallic hints of sandal.
Under flash — it gleamed, not glittered. There’s no sparkle-for-sparkle’s-sake. Just the quiet rhythm of light hitting texture . Her hair was swept back, styled close to the head but with a few parted waves near the front — an intentional nod to vintage, unfinished elegance. Her makeup stayed muted: sun-touched cheeks, brushed brows, nothing too glossy.
And then there’s Jessie herself — not posing, exactly. More like standing. Present. Palms resting at the waist. Letting the garment speak in flat tones.
It was fashion that didn’t need to flirt. It just stood there — waiting for the room to adjust.
Dasha wore a black leather midi dress with strappy studded heels to Spotify’s 2026 Best New Artist Party in Los Angeles, California.
At Spotify’s Best New Artist Party in Los Angeles on January 29, 2026, Dasha kept things uncomplicated—sharp, sleek, with a little edge, like a guitar note that lands crisp. She showed up in a black leather midi dress , cut on bias, styled like it was built for walking into a dark room and stopping conversation mid-sentence.
The dress is spaghetti-strapped. Low neckline, hint of ruching near the bodice. No frills, no trick seams. Shiny but not loud. The leather hugs—doesn’t cling. Sits just below the knee in a dead-straight hem. It’s not reinventing anything, but it doesn’t have to.
She layered with multiple rings , one gold pendant necklace , and carried a mini structured clutch —black, with a faint gloss finish. On her feet? Strappy studded sandals , triple-wrapped around the ankle and across the toes. Every metal accent glinting just enough under flash.
Hair worn down, soft waves with a side part. Makeup is bronzed and low-effort—clean brows, peach blush, dark nude lip. It’s the kind of glam that doesn’t ask for reinterpretation. It functions like a chorus: consistent, catchy, no skips.
This look doesn’t beg to be decoded. It’s just there—confident, clean, one inch to the left of danger.
