Wear a White Rose If We Should Send Help: Every Look on the Grammys Red Carpet
EntertainmentThe Grammys typically showcase some of the more compelling ensembles during red carpet awards season thanks to an increased freedom of expression within the music industry compared to the film one. (That, and far fewer opportunities for corporate sponsorships from big-name designers).
But since #MeToo, that freedom of expression has felt mostly gestural if not theoretical, as the music industry overall has stayed infuriatingly silent on its own rampant problems with sexual harassment and assault. As high-powered music executives decline to go on record—earlier this week, the New York Times reported that over two dozen women in the music industry declined to comment for an article about #MeToo—and the largely male-run Grammys are seemingly relying upon Kesha to carry its whole statement for them, the red carpet solution, it seems, is a corollary to the Globes’s black-dress statement: Tonight, musicians will wear white roses on the carpet in solidarity with Time’s Up.
The question is, will the act of wearing (or, in many cases so far, simply carrying) a white rose mean anything if this de facto code of silence is allowed to continue? Where are the voices of powerful men, like Clive Davis or Jimmy Iovine, whose careers have relied upon the talents of mostly women artists? And what about the music industry executives like Steve Barnett, who actively profit from artists whose alleged abuse of women is gruesome and highly public? And will any of them have the sand to speak up on the carpet, or in their acceptance speeches?
Again, we are confronted with the dilemma of fashion being used as a stand-in for action. Fashion statements are powerful and can change the culture, and in televised they can shine light on issues like #MeToo for a larger audience—but they translate to nothing without meaningful change, and so far the industry at large seems frustratingly unwilling to even broach the topic. And with that at hand, the white roses seem more like a plea for help, like Sansa lighting a candle in the North Tower for Brienne when Ramsay Bolton’s abuse goes too far.
But hey! Here are some outfits! As ever, we’ll constantly update as the stars hit and the story of these outfits unfold. Above, longtime advocate for survivors Lady Gaga wears voluminous black lace and accessorizes with a white rose and Time’s Up pin.
Eve’s a stunner in a geometric pantsuit, and opted to hold her rose like Lisa Loeb, in a gunmetal gown. Bomba Estereo’s Li Saumet has increasingly paid neon homage to indigenous communities in her native Colombia to great effect; here she looks regal in batik with contrasting melon-colored eye shadow. Natalia Lafourcade, who’s won a million Grammys and is now Oscar-adjacent with the theme song from Coco (she and Miguel performed an official version of “Remember Me”), went for a simple prettiness in black lace.
Careful what you ask for, I guess. Red carpet troll/hyperconservative thirstbucket Joy Villa wore a pro-Trump gown last year, and this year she tempera-painted some anti-choice shit on a bargain basement taffeta jam. Why is she invited? What does she do? Karen Martínez and Juanes are dressed more for the Emmys, but Patrick Starr’s not playing in a beautiful, retina-blinding coat and pumpum shorts. Reba McEntire’s gown is exceedingly safe, which is fine for Reba McEntire! Cause she’s Reba McEntire.
Gaga’s full look—homage to her glam rock roots with those gigantic boots and glitter, plus homage to her 2008 style with lacy leggings and structured shoulders. It’s aight.
Emmylou Harris is slaying in a patchwork coat and pirate boots, like she’s the proprietor of a shop that sells crystals and angel cards and makes you feel better by putting her hands on your cranium. Yes mom! Coco and Ice T are giving us vampire chic; French singer Jain is perfectly tailored and cool in a way that, sorry, invokes French dressing; Kirstin Maldonado and Scott Hoying of Pentatonix look like Riverdale characters, which is their general estilo.