Arguably, the most illustrious fashion event of the year, aside from the Met Gala, is Cannes Film Festival.
Each and every year, the French Riviera resort town of Cannes welcomes the who's who of Hollywood to walk the red carpet and preview new films of all genres, including documentaries, from all around the world.
From A-List actresses like Eva Longoria to models and muses including Bella Hadid and Irina Shayk, the prestigious film festival welcomes red carpet dressing in all forms, until now.
In a drastic turn of events, this year the organisers have cracked down on what is and isn’t allowed. On the newly updated website, the dress code now reads: “For decency reasons, nudity is prohibited on the red carpet, as well as in any other area of the festival. Voluminous outfits, in particular those with a large train, that hinder the proper flow of traffic of guests and complicate seating in the theatre are not permitted. The festival welcoming teams will be obligated to prohibit red carpet access to anyone not respecting these rules.”
Long story short, sheer dresses and voluminous trains are not allowed.
In light of the new dress code pivot, the H! Fashion team weighs in with a few thoughts of their own…
Aaliyah Harry, Beauty Writer
Once again, people are policing women's bodies - but what's new? The Cannes red carpet has always been a stage for self-expression, so the decision to ban nudity and voluminous dresses feels so outdated. Policing what women wear, whether it’s a sheer material or a larger-than-life silhouette, reinforces the tired notion that female bodies are something to control or censor.
The censorship of women appears to be a recurring theme at Cannes. Last year, Kelly Rowland was rushed along the red carpet by security, while Dominican actress Massiel Taveras had the train of her dress, a statement piece bearing her own powerful message, blocked. Both women were visibly uncomfortable by the overbearing security.
Rather than shaming or limiting women for how they choose to dress, we should be questioning why discomfort around female autonomy still exists. Let women take up space - with their voices, their bodies, and yes, their dresses too.
Clare Pennington, Associate Editor
Despite being a complete prude in real life (if it were possible, I would shower with clothes on), I’m all about some nudity on the red carpet. Free the nipple! At the end of the day, controlling what women wear has never been cool, no matter which end of the spectrum the ruling comes from. If you want to take your clothes off - do it! If you want to cover up - do it!
Cannes has a history of being overly strict with its frankly unnecessary rules (remember when women were told they had to wear heels?) So, I hope we get lots of rebellious rule breakers this year because I adore women who swim against the tide.
Tania Leslau, Fashion Features Writer
Quelle horreur! What is a red carpet without a dash of theatrics? I understand that larger-than-life silhouettes are not the most functional, but red carpet dressing isn’t meant to be practical in any capacity. It’s a time for unadulterated, unapologetic glamour to spring to life - red carpet style champions fashion for fashion’s sake. My favourite example of this would be Ikram Abdi's striped Harris Reed for Nina Ricci gown - because why the hell not?
As for the nudity ban, this seems like a subtle weaponisation of the female body, as if it’s something to fear rather than honour. While I’m not a fan of cheaply-made ‘barely-there’ dresses à la Shein, nudity (when done well) can be a celebration of the female form (Think Kate Moss' iconic sheer 90s slip dress.) Lee McQueen, Jean Paul Gaultier, and Tom Ford all incorporated elements of nudity into their collections - creating a mix of shock and sensuality. Nudity on the red carpet can help to reclaim the female body - which for so long has been objectified in the media
Lauren Ramsay, Fashion and Lifestyle Writer
There are so many questions raised by this bizarre ban - why so last-minute? And how exactly does the decision to prohibit the display of the female body align with the concept of “decency,” as outlined on the official website? Granted, many choose to avoid more revealing attire for cultural or personal reasons, which is entirely their prerogative. But for many others, sheer dressing is a form of self-expression, confidence, and of course, fashion.
It’s a trend dominating the style landscape right now and, while arguably overdone, it’s clearly a powerful emblem of modern femininity and personal freedom.
Natalie Salmon, Editor
Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not opposed to a dress code.
In fact, I rather enjoy the ritual of it all. A strict sartorial guideline, when done right, isn’t oppression - it’s elegance. Just ask Royal Ascot, where showing a bare shoulder can still raise an eyebrow. It’s less control, more curation. So no, the Cannes dress code “ban” didn’t send me into a spiral. If anything, I welcomed it. Because - let’s be honest - Cannes has started to feel like the Met Gala’s overexposed little sister. All theatrics, no plot. What once was a celebration of cinematic glamour has begun to resemble a fashion free-for-all, where the goal isn’t to honour film but to hijack headlines. We’ve gone from Riviera chic to red carpet circus.
There’s a difference between dressing for the moment and dressing to dominate the news cycle - and lately, it’s felt like everyone’s chasing virality, not versatility. Take the naked dress trend. In theory, I have no beef with a bit of strategic sheerness. But at this point, the shock factor is worn thinner than the mesh. Whether it’s worn by women, men, or anyone in between, there’s little originality left. It says “look at me” rather than “let's celebrate the seventh art.” And that’s the problem: the clothes have started upstaging the cinema.
Now, I love a voluminous gown - give me tulle, drama, a little Visconti fantasy. But when the fashion feels performative, rather than expressive, it loses its charm. So no, I don’t mind the new ban. What do I mind? Announcing rules and then ignoring them. If you’re going to lay down a law, at least stick to it. Heidi Klum in Elie Saab’s parachute of pink tulle was lovely, sure - but wasn’t she precisely the kind of look this rule was meant to curb?
Cannes should be a shrine to great filmmaking, not a battleground for who can wear the least or the most fabric. If the organisers want respect, they’ll need to enforce the code they so grandly declared. Otherwise, it’s just another headline in a sea of sequins.