Why You Cant Shop the Red Carpet Anymore

Once upon a more glittery time, when fashion magazines were glossy and often weighed three pounds, it was such a rush to cover the red carpet because it had the power to instantly jump start trends, spike sales and piss Joan Rivers off. And as Fashion Director of InStyle, my juiciest and most strategic job was selecting and writing about the clothes on those scarlet runners for our magazine’s most popular The Look section, which always opened by spotlighting the current month’s “Best Dress.”

On June 14, 2009, the occasional but beautiful actress Megan Fox attended the then obscure Berlin Film Festival to promote Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. Though the film was incomprehensible, Fox looked so stunning in a one-shoulder crimson Roberto Cavalli gown with a large circular opening at the hip framed by a gold snake, it was an easy pick to be the next “Best.” Three days after the issue’s publication, I received a phone call from an ebullient Mr. Cavalli, who informed me in his unmistakable gravelly, nicotine scarred basso profundo. “Today, there are now no more red Cavalli dresses to buy anywhere in the world. Basta! Thank you!”

On Oscar Sunday earlier this month, even before Conan O’Brien in Amy Madigan drag began running from a horde of angry children, the night’s parade of Oscar dresses was already posted on hundreds of online sites, complete with influencers’ raves and razzes.However, the praise for such diverse finery as Jesse Buckley in Chanel, Emma Stone in Louis Vuitton, Elle Fanning in Givenchy, Rose Byrne in Dior, and even Pedro Pascal in Chanel all shared something in common: Not a single one of them ever came down a designer runway.

Emma Stone’s sleekly gleaming silver scoop neck, backless, cap sleeved Louis Vuitton gown was the result of 600 hours’ worth of beading. The previous week, in Paris, Louis Vuitton presented its new collection. Out of 54 looks, there was lots of plaid, voluminous skirting and shoulders so wide you had to wonder if designer Nicholas Ghesquière was fantasizing about redoing the uniforms of the Kansas City Chiefs. There was not a single scoop neck, cap sleeve, or cascade of bugle beads. There was a similar red carpet/runway disconnect with Givenchy. Elle Fanning’s wasp waisted, princess gown featured a skirt so voluminous two cub scouts could have hidden under it without detection. However, designer Sarah Burton’s most recent highly geometric and dramatically draped Givenchy collection featured no full skirts or gown that the Duchess of Cambridge might readily choose. Rose Byrne’s intricately floral embroidered strapless black crepe Dior gown boasted a graceful mermaid silhouette with full train, while almost every gown in Jonathan Anderson’s most recent Dior couture collection exploded from the hips into a structured pleated bell jar.

Social media also loved Zoe Saldaña in lacy black Saint Laurent, Mikey Madison in red velvet Dior, Anne Hathaway in embroidered and body-hugging Valentino. But if you crave any of these looks, don’t bother heading up Madison Avenue, down Rodeo Drive, or clicking onto Net-a-Porter. You won’t find them. Every single dress cited above was a “one-off,” made specifically for the event, not going into production. Nor was this rarified stylistic disconnect confined to Oscar night. It was a constant throughout the entire awards season. So what’s going on?

The luxury industry is currently in upheaval, flooded by too many options, competition from savvy, affordable fast fashion, urgent dictums from corporate to create distinctive new brandable signatures as a busload of young new designers are prodded to reimagine classic namesakes. Like technology, music, and AI, fashion is now relentlessly obsessed with the new, the innovative and the unexpected.

And that’s the problem. Because what the red carpet and we, its adoring public, continues to crave and call “Hollywood Glamour” has hardly changed from 1946 when Rita Hayworth danced around in Gilda as she “Put the Blame on Mame” wearing an endlessly copied, timeless black strapless Jean Louis designed sheath. When discussing Jessie Buckley, no less than three on air commentators referenced Grace Kelly’s 1955 Edith Head–designed mint green satin Oscar gown — often cited as the ultimate red carpet look. Elle Fanning’s white gown reminded another of Elizabeth Taylor’s bewitching white prom gown in A Place in the Sun from 1952 (also by Edith Head). And a gushing Gen Z commentator tried desperately to remember the sultry beauty “who was once married to Frank Sinatra, Oh, what’s her name?” who often wore sinuous gowns like Mickey Madison’s red velvet Dior. Her name was Ava Gardner.

Studios used to pay for their stars to get dressed for openings and awards. Not surprisingly, they insisted their contract headliners look, as Lina Lamont described herself in Singin’ in the Rain, like “a shimmering, glimmering star in the cinema firmament.” In fact, during the ‘60s, Ms. Head (an eight-time Oscar winner) served as a fashion consultant for the Motion Picture Academy’s Big Night. Parameters for polish and poise made millions of women want to look and dress like Audrey Hepburn, Ms. Taylor, Ann-Margret and Lana Turner. But studios no longer underwrite stars’ wardrobes. Fashion and jewelry brands now pay them handsomely to announce their labels. Chanel aligns with Nicole Kidman, Emma Stone with Louis Vuitton, Mia Goth with Dior. The associations not only diminish the mystery about what these actresses might wear but creates a dilemma when nothing on their respective runways is red carpet worthy. Custom raiment becomes necessary.

It’s not the first time this has happened. In 1995, Uma Thurman was rhapsodically gushed over for looking ethereal in a gossamer lavender chiffon Prada gown. Her appearance not only boosted Thurman’s career, it elevated Prada which back then was still noted mainly for its triangle labeled bags. However, nothing on Prada’s runway that year looked remotely like Thurman’s head turner.About a decade later, it was revealed that the gown had been subcontracted out to American designer Barbara Tfank.

Veteran stylist Elizabeth Stewart (Julia Roberts, Cate Blanchett, Jessica Chastain) says that having to create a gown from scratch puts pressure on the house as well as the stylist to be part designer. “It was different when only people in the industry saw dresses as they first hit the runway. Now thanks to vogue.com, and countless other style driven sites, dresses have already been seen by millions. It you’re a big star; you don’t want wear ‘old’ clothes. You want something custom made. It becomes a demonstration of power.”

But that power is short circuited when it comes to designer boutique checkout counters.Diane Keaton’s passion for oversized Giorgio Armani and Ralph Lauren menswear (1978), Sharon Stone tucking in the Gap white shirt into a satin Vera Wang skirt (1998), Gwyneth Paltrow’s pale pink Calvin Klein slip dress (1996), and Angelina Jolie’s thigh-baring black Versace (2012) all started trends post-ceremony because each look was readily accessible, available in the stores. Lovely and dynamic as the ladies at this year’s Oscars were, good luck shopping for whatever look inspired and bewitched you. Like all those actresses nominated who didn’t win, disappointment lies ahead.You might as well be searching for Bjork’s infamous Swan dress, though, you’re in luck!There happens to be a copy of it available on eBay or only $220 in case nothing else you wanted turns up.

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Hal Rubenstein is a writer, a designer, and one of the founding editors of InStyle magazine, where he served as fashion director for fifteen years.