Taylor Momsen wore a black asymmetric corset dress with layered silver chains at the 7th Annual Jam for Janie GRAMMY party on February 1, 2026.
Taylor Momsen showed up at the 7th Annual Jam for Janie GRAMMY Awards Viewing Party at The Hollywood Palladium in Los Angeles on February 1, 2026, looking exactly like someone who never left 2008’s Bowery club circuit – and that’s not criticism. The Pretty Reckless frontwoman wore a black asymmetric dress with a ruched bodice and a diagonal corset panel running from shoulder to hip, secured with metal grommets and black lacing that read less Victorian boudoir, more DIY punk repair. A high slit split the right side to mid-thigh, not for red carpet drama but because movement matters when you’re used to stages, not photo calls.
The accessories told the real story. Layered silver chain necklaces – thick, industrial, including what appeared to be a cross pendant – sat heavy against her collarbone. Stacked silver bracelets and chunky rings covered both wrists and several fingers. Black platform peep-toe heels with ankle straps added height without softening the look’s refusal to play nice. Her platinum blonde hair fell in loose waves, and the heavily smudged black eyeshadow – smoky to the point of deliberate messiness – completed a visual language borrowed from Siouxsie Sioux, Courtney Love, and every girl who ever shoplifted eyeliner from a suburban CVS.
This wasn’t celebrity style trying on rebellion for the night. Momsen, who traded Gossip Girl ‘s headbands for guitar feedback over a decade ago, has maintained this aesthetic with monk-like consistency. The charitable gala context – Janie’s Fund supports survivors of abuse – added weight to the look’s refusal of conventional femininity. There’s something clarifying about watching someone show up to an industry event in what amounts to their uniform, unbothered by the implied dress code.
The corset lacing deserves attention. Not because it’s novel – corsetry has been strip-mined by fashion for centuries – but because this version felt functional rather than decorative. The grommets looked like they could take tension. The matte black fabric didn’t shimmer or beg for light. Where most red carpet interpretations of “edgy” involve a single safety pin on a Versace gown, this committed to the bit: asymmetry, hardware, and a slit that prioritized mobility over calculated reveal.
What worked was the totality. Strip away any single element and the look falls apart – the chains need the smudged eyes need the platform heels need the corset. It’s costume in the best sense: armor that signals allegiance. Not to a designer or a trend, but to a specific corner of music history that valued volume over polish, intensity over likability.
The best styling doesn’t ask for permission, and Momsen’s never has – this was fashion as refusal, dressed up for a cause that matters more than the cameras.
Miley Cyrus wore a custom Celine leather moto look with balloon trousers and a giant MC brooch at the 2026 Grammys.
The 68th Grammy Awards rolled into Los Angeles on 2 February 2026 and Miley Cyrus claimed the red carpet fashion spotlight in her own unapologetic register. She chose a custom Celine leather moto jacket cinched tight, its surface sliced by silver zips and a laced-through belt. Under the collar, a crisp white button-up—cuffs flipped wide like studio lighting for the wrists. The jacket’s focal point: a sprawling gold brooch —spiky, lunar, and proudly stamped with M.C. initials—part jewelry, part manifesto.
Loose balloon-cut black trousers softened the biker energy while keeping volume in play. Pointed black pumps anchored the silhouette, toes sharp, heels needle-thin. Black leather gloves flashed stitching at the knuckles; tiny detail, big attitude. Hair? Soft bronde waves, bangs grazing her lashes. Makeup stayed bronze and hushed—letting all that metal speak first.
This look taps two currents at once: the archival swagger of motorcycle leathers and the ceremony of haute embellishment. Cyrus reframes both, wearing the jacket like a trophy and the brooch like armor. In an evening built on sequins and chiffon, she proved rebellion can arrive fully tailored.
Madelyn Cline wore a draped lavender jersey mini dress with knee-high black boots at The Bird Streets Club on January 31, 2026.
Madelyn Cline stepped out at The Bird Streets Club in West Hollywood on January 31, 2026, in a study of relaxed elegance that speaks to the current moment’s preference for tactile, body-conscious silhouettes over structured formality. The Outer Banks star selected a draped lavender mini dress constructed from what appears to be fluid jersey , featuring a high cowl neckline that pools fabric at the collarbone and long sleeves that create a covered-yet-revealing balance. The dress is gathered at the torso , cinching loosely before releasing into a fluted mini hemline that hits mid-thigh—a proportion that reads more Studio 54 than streetwear, despite the casual urban setting.
She anchored the look with black knee-high leather boots and a crescent-shaped shoulder bag , both in polished black that provides visual weight against the dress’s airy softness. Her hair—a sleek, side-parted bob—and warm-toned makeup complete the picture of someone who understands that celebrity style in 2026 favors ease that doesn’t sacrifice intentionality.
The choice of dusty mauve jersey is telling. In an era when Gen-Z pastels have flooded the market with saccharine pinks and baby blues, this particular shade—neither quite gray nor fully purple—occupies a more ambiguous, grown-up territory. It’s the color of faded velvet theater curtains, of late-evening skies, and it refuses to declare allegiance to either minimalism or maximalism. The fabric’s matte finish and substantial drape recall the body-conscious designs of the early 2000s, but the styling sidesteps nostalgia by avoiding logo-heavy accessories or overly sculpted shapes.
What works here is the restraint. The cowl neck could easily tip into costume territory—it’s a detail that demands attention—but Cline wears it with the nonchalance of someone running errands, not attending a premiere. The knee-high boots , a silhouette that has cycled in and out of favor since the 1960s, ground the look in practical urban mobility while maintaining a nighttime edge. The bag, likely a contemporary designer iteration of the classic crescent shape popularized in the ’90s, completes the trinity of black leather that prevents the dress from floating into pure romanticism.
This is fashion that understands its own context: polished enough for a members-only club, comfortable enough for Los Angeles’ perpetually casual nights, and specific enough in its details to avoid the bland uniformity of algorithm-driven dressing.
