Ruby Rose Turner wore a denim-on-denim look with lace and lace-up boots at the Whisper Room Pre-Grammy celebration in Los Angeles on January 30.
Stepping into the industrial chaos of Whisper Room’s Pre-Grammy celebration, Ruby Rose Turner didn’t play it cool—she played it pure throwback. All edge, all texture. The outfit was loud before she said a word. Low-slung denim mini skirt , raw hem still holding on. Cropped, fitted denim jacket with heavy, symmetrical grommet detailing down both sides of the front—military-ish, but with zero structure. Unbuttoned from the ribs down, revealing a peeled-back white lace camisole spilling out like soft rebellion.
Boots? Brown. Tall. Full lace-ups. Eyelets framed each leather curve like something salvaged from a Wild West backlot. Matching tiny Louis Vuitton bag in hand—miniature but instantly legible. Hair was up in a high, curly ponytail, the kind you twirl out of muscle memory, not vanity prep. No visible bling. No distractions. Just denim overload, eye contact, and boot clicks.
This wasn’t a subdued event appearance . It leaned hard into Y2K nostalgia, but not the polished, brand-filtered kind. Think: MySpace-era gas station photo shoot energy—messy, specific, and way too confident to explain itself. Turner wore the look like a dare: If you’re going to reference something chaotic, you’d better commit all the way through the hem.
Skai Jackson wore a leopard-print bodysuit, sheer tights, and a shaggy black fur coat at the Warner Music Grammy Party on January 29, 2026.
At Warner Music’s 2026 GRAMMY party in Los Angeles, Skai Jackson stepped onto the grey carpet looking like she’d just stepped out of a glam rock jungle. And honestly, thank god somebody did. Her look? A leopard-print bodysuit , high-cut and unapologetic, outlined by a floor-grazing shaggy black fur jacket that added body, heat, drama—without turning costume.
Paired with sheer black tights and pointed black stilettos with an ankle strap, the whole thing walked a deliberate line between underdressed and overdone. Her legs extended endlessly in the tights, and the bodysuit didn’t need accessories because the print was the statement. The coat wasn’t about warmth—it was atmosphere. Texture on top of texture.
Hair? Crimped and voluminous. Big, glossy spirals that draped like armor, undone but not messy. No earrings distracting. No jewelry fussing around. Just her. Confident in the decision. Feet planted, stare steady—owning it.
Not trying to fit into the usual event appearance mold, and not rebelling either. It felt like a challenge skid-marked with confidence: You came for safe fashion. You got Skai instead.
Kylie Jenner wore a vintage Margiela linen bodice with a black leather skirt and Jimmy Choo pumps in West Hollywood on January 29, 2026.
Walking into Craig’s on January 29, Kylie Jenner looked like she’d just stepped out of a museum’s fashion archive—though the sidewalk, not a glass box, was her runway of choice. She was sharp, streamlined, and somehow quiet in the chaos. The look? A vintage Martin Margiela “Semi Couture” linen bodice from the 1997–1998 fall collection. Barely-there cap sleeves, rough edges, unfinished seams that felt deliberate. Almost anatomical in shape. A deconstructed mannequin brought to life.
The top—a skin-toned burlap beige—fastened down the front with miniature hook-and-eyes. Subtle tension at the bust. Visible text printed near the hem in faded ink read “SEMI COUTURE PARIS.” Beneath it, she wore a black leather midi skirt , pencil-cut and minimal—hitting just above the ankle, with a leathery stiffness that gave it presence without volume.
Feet? Classic. Black Jimmy Choo Love Pumps —a pointed-toe silhouette that’s almost too easy to overlook until it steps forward. No bag, no jewelry, no distractions. Hair slicked back like a reflective shell. The only real shine came from her shoes and the polish in her walk.
As an event appearance , this wasn’t about flash or exposure. It was built around intent, control, curation. Jenner didn’t wear vintage Margiela as a nod to history—she wore it like a provocation, asking whether anything in fashion today dares to feel this unfinished.
