Olivia Rodrigo wore a sheer pink lace dress with rose appliqué and satin pumps to Pitchfork’s Best New Music Party on January 31, 2026.
At Pitchfork’s first-ever Best New Music Party on January 31, 2026, Olivia Rodrigo didn’t just slip into the room—she settled, deep in a brown leather booth, as if she’d been there all night. The look? Soft, borderline mischievous. A gauzy, pink chiffon dress , nearly translucent in places, clinging more than covering. The deep V neckline lets the lace edges skim her collarbones, while the bust sits unlined—deliberately, not carelessly.
Across the stomach, a patch of embroidered roses , bright fuchsia and red, bloom flat against the fabric, like a quiet punchline. Floral without the romance. Skirt goes long— not floor-length, but not flirty-short either —just enough to keep things slow. A pair of muted pink satin heels round it out, matching but not fighting the mood.
Hair’s down, not overly styled. Maybe no product at all. One side falls forward in a polished wave, like a knowing wink tucked behind no earrings. Her finger’s pressed to her lip in that deliberately un-posed pose—with the energy of someone keeping her headline in her back pocket.
There’s nothing loud here. No diamonds. No gloss bomb. Not even shimmer. Just that low-wattage kind of dressing that feels like it belongs in the back booth of a club you can’t quite name.
It’s the kind of look that whispers “don’t look at me”—while making sure every flash does.
Dua Lipa wore a red Polo Ralph Lauren cap, black puffer jacket, Palace joggers, and Balenciaga sneakers in Paris on January 25, 2026.
Some days it’s not about standing out. It’s about slipping through. On January 25, 2026, in Paris, Dua Lipa was spotted walking side by side with Callum Turner, dressed in a look that radiated almost no effort—and somehow more presence because of it.
Her street style here is built from precise decisions that disguise themselves as afterthoughts. First, the hat: a vivid red Polo Ralph Lauren cap , worn low, hair braided at the nape and tucked back like she’s dodging recognition, or not. Layered over a scarf wrap and The North Face 1996 Retro Nuptse Jacket , the whole upper half feels sealed-off, cocooned. Puffy but intentional. Comfort weaponized.
Below, the silhouette slouches. Palace black joggers , loose-fit, subtle logo barely visible on the thigh. That familiar crisp nylon swish. On foot, Balenciaga Runner sneakers , black-on-black with enough bulk to add a little drag to each step. Not clunky. Just planted. Street-tested. City-worn.
There’s no jewelry in sight. Just gloved hands stuffed in jacket pockets. A pace that doesn’t perform. And that’s the thing—it works because it doesn’t try. This isn’t celebrity dressing. This is everyday outfit mode dialed by someone who knows the eye is still watching.
It’s the kind of look that gets copied in grainy paparazzi photos and Tumblr mood boards three months too late.
Sometimes fashion doesn’t announce itself—it just walks past you in the cold, and doesn’t look back.
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.
