For at least the last decade, Rihanna has been my enduring (and perhaps only) celebrity style inspiration. I find the way she puts together an outfit truly masterful. I’ve long tried to study her outfits and identify their alchemy. Is it the fit? The layering? The choices? (Answer: It’s all of it). But in short, it’s her. She’s the example of an unwavering commitment to looking good—with the Google image search to prove it.
Her Met Gala Papal get-up by Galliano rendered me speechless. The CFDA award acceptance dress by Adam Selman is so cannon for me, I once asked her then-stylist Mel Ottenberg to recall exactly how the outfit came to be in great detail while I listened like the teacher’s pet in a elementary classroom. But her pregnancy looks really showcased how fearless she can be. As I wrote BAZAAR’s Legacy Issue in March, “She wore a Dior babydoll dress with the lining ripped out, exposing and celebrating her belly, while pregnant with her first son, then a chocolate-brown leather harness Alaïa gown and vintage Jean Paul Gaultier halterneck mesh dress worn over a sequined bikini while pregnant with her second. What could have been just a display of incredible looks turned into a transgressive and highly charged political statement that changed the conversation on the pregnant body—more specifically, what it looks like and how it should be dressed.”
She sees the line of imposed acceptability and hurtles right through it. It seems as if she is gleefully pushing pregnancy style norms knowing no else would dare try, therefore rendering herself untouchable. She’ll don a full-on shredded body on look (while out clubbing heavily pregnant—badass) and wear a completely see-through Dior negligée with her thong exposed for a daytime fashion show.
But last night, she took it to the next level in an Alaïa fall 2025 3D skirt, complete with matching hooded crop top with can’t-miss diamonds peeking out from her ears. This is an unforgiving outfit that would strike fear into the heart of someone with washboard abs and supermodel stature, never mind someone expecting. Pregnant women often suffer with the discomfort of their new bodies, but pregnancy seems to bring out a superpower in Rihanna, adorning her unborn with the majesty her child deserves.
She looked resplendent.
I perished.
I could have wept.
And three separate people text me about almost en masse.
The above is perhaps a tad dramatic but entirely true. If Rihanna can do this, on a Sunday night I usually reserve for Netflix, I am simply not doing enough style-wise.
My working wardrobe as I write this consists of a loved but threadbare vintage T-shirt and brown balloon pants and some Bottega Veneta spectacles. Cute but polite. A lot closer to what you might imagine someone with child might choose to wear.
I can’t help but think it’s a wasted opportunity. Rihanna turned for a casual Sunday night dinner at Giorgio Baldi into demi-couture catwalk. What’s stopping me from pushing things a little further for my neighborhood dinner this evening?
She rebukes the usual expectations pregnant women field about finding clothes to accommodate their expanding bodies. She does the opposite: she uses clothes to glorify her bump. She makes the clothes fit around who she is and what she has to say. She refuses to be a stereotypical depiction of a pregnant woman as a fragile vessel for new life. Her choices say she’s in control and defining herself.
And if she can, why can’t I?
Rihanna’s Alaïa outfit teaches us that every waking moment is a chance for runway readiness and there are simply no excuses. It’s not about owning the clothes (though I am entirely willing to accept them); it’s about embracing the ceremony of getting up, getting dressed, and presenting the truest version of yourself to the world every day. It’s about being creative and loving fashion unapologetically, and that’s a lesson worth taking to heart and to our wardrobes, pregnant or not.
