Paris Jackson wore a long-sleeve minimalist black gown with tousled waves and stacked rings at the 2026 Pre-GRAMMY Gala in Los Angeles.
At the Pre-GRAMMY Gala & GRAMMY Salute to Industry Icons at the Beverly Hilton, Paris Jackson took a different route than most. No sparkle, no slit, no shouting. Just a long black dress, a handful of rings, and a pair of heels she didn’t feel the need to wear all night—she held them in one hand like an afterthought.
The gown was jet black, matte finish, and full-length, with long sleeves and a boat neckline that barely dipped. No embellishments. No visible closures. It looked like it had been poured on without a zipper. That kind of no-fuss fashion that feels intentionally against-the-grain in an event full of beading and breastplates.
She wore her blonde hair up, loose curls casually pinned with a few wisps left to frame the face. The kind of undone bun that probably took 45 minutes to get just messy enough. Makeup was soft and controlled—nude-pink lips, darkened eyes, brows brushed thick.
What stood out more than anything, oddly, were her fingers—each one nearly covered in rings, layered and irregular, silver and chunky. No symmetry. All attitude. One heel dangling loosely in her grip, like the red carpet was finished with her before she was done with it.
It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t polished. But it worked like a shrug that lands clean.
Paris didn’t dress to impress. She dressed like she’s not amused by trying anymore—and that, somehow, felt rare.
Heidi Klum wore a plunging crimson gown with a slit and textured coat at the 2026 Pre-GRAMMY Gala held at the Beverly Hilton.
At the Pre-GRAMMY Gala & GRAMMY Salute to Industry Icons at the Beverly Hilton, Heidi Klum did what only a few celebrities still do without flinching—she committed to a Look. Not ironic. Not minimalist. No monochrome “less is more.” Just volume, red, and 200% neckline.
The dress—a halter-neck column gown in textural scarlet fabric —dropped down low in the front, unapologetically deep. The plunge was sharp and clean, without mesh, tape, or any tricks—just confidence and adhesive, presumably. The bodice skimmed, then cinched into a wide waistband made from a subtly sheened material, wrapping the torso like a glamour bandage.
Below the waist, the skirt picked up a faint shimmer and a vertical texture—somewhere between pleated and crushed. A side slit opened the leg just past mid-thigh. Not an up-to-there moment. Just enough movement. Just enough mischief.
Then came the shrug. She tossed a bold red textured coat —voluminous and fuzzy, almost cartoonish—around her arms, letting it ride low enough to show shoulders. Think: fur bomb meets Muppet energy. But instead of camp, it felt… ceremonial. She wasn’t playing. She was just dressing like the cameras were always rolling.
Hair was blown out in loose, straightened waves—parted slightly in the middle, nothing tucked. Makeup centered on smoky silver eyes, bronzed skin, and an icy pink matte lip. No necklace. A few rings. Not much to compete with that neckline.
This look wasn’t just red carpet fashion. It was red carpet muscle memory.
Paris Hilton wore a deep-cut black gown with a crystal-studded waist and matching choker to the 2026 Pre-GRAMMY Gala at the Beverly Hilton.
At the Pre-GRAMMY Gala & Salute to Industry Icons at The Beverly Hilton, Paris Hilton strode into the red carpet frame looking every inch like herself—hyper-aware of the camera, stylized without apology, glamor built like armor.
She wore a black floor-length gown with a neckline that dropped until it almost couldn’t. Deep V. Plunged. But not soft—sharp lines that cut straight from collarbone to midriff with no lacework or illusion mesh to interrupt. Smooth black, maybe silk jersey or satin-heavy stretch, hugging the body like a second thought.
At the waist, things tightened and glittered. A crystal-embellished belt detail—not wrapped, but built into the dress—pulled everything inward. Like the gown was being held together by sparkle and pressure. That same effect repeated at the neck: a thick black choker encrusted with matching stones, mirroring the waist but doubling as a frame for the absence of fabric in between.
Her signature blonde hair was swept to one side and curled into glossy, Hollywood waves. No loose tendrils, no fake mess. It was brushed, curled, sprayed. The eye makeup was dramatic—full lashes, silver shimmer lids, sharp cheekbone shadow. One hand on her hip, the other just brushing against the hem. One finger extended like she was mid-thought. She knew the shot before the flash.
That’s the thing with Hilton. It’s not reinvention. It’s persistence. She doesn’t show up chasing trends—her style has always been frozen in gloss and glitter, and that’s where it’s strongest.
This wasn’t a look that begged to be seen—it simply expected it, and waited under the spotlight like it paid rent there.
