The Cannes Film Festival (Instagram) has always been more than a celebration of cinema. Its red carpet is an institution in itself—a global theatre of fashion where stars arrive not just to promote their films, but to be seen, to be judged, and perhaps, to be immortalised in sequins and tulle. But this year, something shifted.
The Cannes 2025 festival introduced a new set of dress code rules for its red carpet, reigniting questions that many believed were already passé: What is elegance? Who defines it? And more pressingly, who gets left behind when glamour becomes a set of restrictions?
Cannes 2025 – The New Rules
The revised dress code explicitly banned nudity, sheer fabrics, and garments with oversized trains. Men were expected to maintain a black-tie standard, and the contentious rule that women wear heels remained firmly in place. The justification? Preserving the “sophistication and spirit” of the festival. But for many observers, this translated to something else entirely: a return to aesthetic conservatism masked as tradition.
While some celebrities complied with grace—Halle Berry’s sheer-but-lined Gucci gown being a masterclass in negotiating the line—others pushed back. Back in 2019, French DJ and performer Kiddy Smile, for example, wore a voluminous floral gown one night and a sequined jumpsuit the next, offering a bold rejection of gendered expectations. His presence alone underscored what the new rules quietly resisted: fashion as play and disruption.
Elegance, According to Whom?
What Cannes 2025 deems “elegant” is not neutral. It is historical. It is gendered. It is racialised. The festival’s vision of glamour is rooted in a Eurocentric ideal—a 1950s Grace Kelly fantasy that continues to dominate even as red carpets around the world begin to embrace a broader spectrum of beauty, identity, and experimentation.
The ban on nudity and sheer fabric—although understandable from a logistical or branding perspective—also suggests a deeper discomfort with sexuality unless it’s packaged neatly within accepted parameters. One might ask: If Cher showed up in her 1974 Bob Mackie Met Gala look today, would she even be allowed to enter?
When Nudity Stops Being Fashion
Of course, there’s a valid counterpoint to all this. Not every act of sartorial rebellion is equal—and not all pushback against dress codes is meaningful. Case in point: Bianca Censori’s appearance at the Oscars afterparty earlier this year, where she arrived in what was effectively no clothing at all. It wasn’t a sheer dress, or a fashion-forward illusion gown—it was full nudity styled as a look.
This isn’t about prudishness. It’s about the difference between using fashion to challenge norms—and bypassing fashion altogether to create a spectacle. The controversy wasn’t only about her body, but about whether there was any intent beyond provocation. And in that sense, Cannes’ desire to draw a line—however clumsily—suddenly feels more understandable.
Because if the red carpet is going to remain a space for fashion as artistry and cultural language, there may still be a need for boundaries. The question is: can those boundaries evolve to include radical aesthetics and non-conforming identities—while still filtering out empty provocation?
Glamour Needs to Evolve, or It Risks Irrelevance
Cannes may see itself as the last bastion of Old World glamour—and maybe that’s the point. But the problem is that the world has moved on. We live in an era where red carpets have become stages for cultural commentary, identity expression, and even activism. Fashion is no longer the armour of royalty—it’s the language of rebellion.
If Cannes wants to remain culturally relevant, it might have to loosen its grip on what it considers “appropriate.” Because the most glamorous people in the room are rarely the ones following the rules. They’re the ones rewriting them.
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