Rachel McAdams wore a black sequined cutout gown by Christopher Esber at the Send Help UK Premiere in London in January 2026.
At the UK Premiere of 20th Century Studios’ Send Help on January 29, 2026, held at Odeon Luxe Leicester Square , Rachel McAdams embraced architectural elegance in a razor-sharp interpretation of evening wear. Her look? A jet-black Christopher Esber Opaline Cutout Sequined Jersey Maxi Dress , high-necked at the top, sleek and columned through to the hem. The whole silhouette hinged on restraint. But then came the plot twist: an angular cutout detail cleaving through the side torso, slicing just beneath the arm. Not bold — strategic.
The fabric carried its own gravity. A dense jersey base drenched in black sequins , shimmering only when it needed to. Light caught the curves sparingly, not greedily. And yet, for a gown with that much surface texture, it moved clean. Minimal drag. Controlled.
Her accessories were precise. McAdams wore the Tiffany & Co. Knot Double Row Necklace in Gold with Diamonds , its signature twist motif sitting just at the collarbone — barely peeking through her hairline. On her finger, the Tiffany & Co. Knot Double Row Ring , matching in design and echoing the same quiet geometry. Jewelry that didn’t scream — it whispered with lineage.
Hair was parted down the middle, styled into soft waves with butter-smooth polish. Makeup: neutral-toned blush, glossy lips, and a diffused smoky eye that pulled just enough 2007 energy into 2026 to keep things grounded.
In a season where maximalism is being edged out by fashionable focus, this was a laser-precise red carpet turn — sculpted, sharp, and deliberately off-center.
When a dress doesn’t chase attention but still slows the room, that’s control — not volume.
Jennifer Hudson wore a sparkling navy gown and textured blue coat for the 2026 MusiCares Person of the Year tribute to Mariah Carey.
Jennifer Hudson knows how to do red carpet volume — but she doesn’t let it swallow her. At the 2026 MusiCares tribute to Mariah Carey , her look was somewhere between diva fantasia and intergalactic lounge commander. A fully embellished navy gown , cut high at the slit, hugged her body like it was sewn onto breath itself — subtle shimmer all over like scattered stars.
And then came the coat.
Not a coat, really — more like a moving landscape. A massive, floor-dragging, textured blue outer layer with waves and ridges that caught light like crushed velvet met synthetic stormcloud. Sleeves sculpted but oversized, dropped just enough that her posture took center stage anyway. The contrast worked: fine glitter controlled in the dress, loose chaos in the coat. Function? Absolutely none. But impact? All of it.
The styling stayed minimal to let the clothing breathe loud. Simple navy pumps , no oversized jewelry, makeup soft but warm. Hair framed at the top then let loose at the ends — controlled volume mirroring her look.
It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t meant to be. But it wasn’t trying to shock either. It just occupied its space like it could never belong anywhere else.
Sometimes a gown walks the carpet. Other times, it drags thunder behind it.
Taraji P. Henson wore a jeweled sheer gown with a dark fur coat to the Zuhair Murad Spring 2026 Couture show during Paris Fashion Week.
For the Zuhair Murad Spring/Summer 2026 Haute Couture presentation in Paris, Taraji P. Henson arrived like myth made modern. Her entrance outfit? A full-length deep burgundy sheer gown , hand-beaded in what looked like a constellation map of rosettes, paillettes, and glasswork — ornate without teetering into costume. The beading concentrated at the bodice, then scattered lower down her frame, falling into soft transparency at the hemline. No belt. No cinching. Just elegance by gravity.
But what really anchored the look — and made it a true event appearance — was the coat. Or rather, the beast of a coat. Heavy faux fur , blood-brown and voluminous with extra length trailing behind her in slow motion drama. The kind of outerwear that doesn’t frame a gown so much as clash and crush into it. It worked.
Hair was pulled up into a coiled bun at the crown — smooth edges, clean lines, letting everything else underneath do the maximalism. The vibe? Regal but rowdy. Polished but still ready to bite. No earrings fighting for space. Just the gown, the coat, the posture ― and a swipe of matte brown lipstick that whispered old-Hollywood-noir through a modern lens.
Taraji rarely plays it demure, but this look was more textured than theatrical — it glowed, but in a growl.
Less red carpet, more velvet curtain — and she didn’t walk through it, she wore it.
