Here come's the celebrity fashion bride. Luxury brands are turning the wedding aisle into the new Hollywood red carpet. How Little House on the Prairie costume designer Mitchell Travers explored the artistry of Native American makers, Americana workwear and homespun dress. Plus, Betye Saar's wearable art at Roberts Projects, Etai Drori's artful new collab and Brunello Cucinelli's film hits U.S. theaters.

By Booth Moore

 

French fashion couture house Matières Fécales launched its bridal wear at the L.A. wedding of singer Gabbriette Bechtel pictured here at her final Paris fitting. Source: Matières Fécales

The Rise of the Celebrity Bridal Fashion Ambassador

Paris couture sensation Matières Fécales, which just last week dressed Zendaya in a winged goddess gown at The Odyssey premiere in New York City, has joined a growing number of luxury brands that are turning the wedding aisle into the new Hollywood red carpet.

The fashion house created three wedding looks for singer/model Gabbriette Bechtel, who married English musician and 1975 frontman Matty Healy last weekend in L.A., in front of a crowd that included Charli XCX, George Daniel, Emily Ratajkowski, Alex Consani and more.

Following the nuptials, the brand issued a press release touting the event as the official launch of Matières Fécale bridalwear. The announcement arrived in my inbox on the heels of one from Saint Laurent with photos and dressing credits for Logan Lerman's Saint Laurent wedding tuxedo, and just weeks after Taylor Swift tied the knot at Madison Square Garden in a still unseen custom Jonathan Anderson Dior gown. (I predict the big reveal will be the September Vogue cover.)

Logan Lerman and Analuisa “Ana” Corrigan. Source: Saint Laurent

Celebrity weddings have become global showcases for luxury brands with every entrance dissected as closely as an Oscars arrival. Dressing a Hollywood bride has emerged as a coveted designer commission and opportunity for a brand to demonstrate its artistry in a single, unforgettable look while generating months of cultural conversation.

It wasn't always this way. During Hollywood's Golden Age, stars were more likely to entrust their wedding dresses to the studio costume designers who dressed them on screen than to Paris couture houses. Grace Kelly's influential 1956 gown was designed by MGM costume designer Helen Rose, not Dior or Balenciaga. Natalie Wood also married in a Helen Rose creation.

Grace Kelly in her Helen Rose wedding gown, April 18th, 1956. Source: Getty

That changed as luxury fashion became a global business locked in a intimate relationship with Hollywood, and celebrity culture became a 24/7 obsession.

It's hard to say who was the first modern Hollywood designer bride. Kim Kardashian's custom Givenchy Haute Couture bridal gown by Riccardo Tisci cemented her role as his friend and muse and made her nuptials to Kanye West a global fashion event, while Sofia Richie Grainge's Chanel wedding in the South of France introduced a younger, social media savvy generation to the house's couture. 

Dua Lipa brought the brand deal to the altar in perhaps the most visible way. She was already a longtime Chanel ambassador when creative director Matthieu Blazy designed the couture gown she wore to her wedding celebration in Sicily last month, casting her at the center of a fairytale that resonated far beyond the usual high fashion audience.

And that's the point. Because the wedding aisle is everyone's runway.

Little House on the Prairie. (L to R) Wren Zhawenim Gotts (Good Eagle) and Alice Halsey (Laura Ingalls). Source: Eric Zachanowich/Netflix

Little House on the Prairie Celebrates Native American and Americana Style

I never thought I would be writing about Netflix's new adaptation of Little House on the Prairie as must-see fashion TV. But its costumes are far more rich and resonant today than one might expect from a period piece, weaving together enduring threads of American style: Native American craft and the workwear and homespun dress that continue to shape everything from heritage menswear to today's romantic, prairie-inspired dresses.

The series doesn't just recreate the open frontier of 1860s century Independence, Kansas—it shows how its visual language still informs the way we dress today.

Creator Rebecca Sonnenshine's approach is a welcome departure from both Laura Ingalls Wilder's books and the 1970s television series. While those centered almost entirely on the Ingalls family's experience, the Netflix series broadens the frontier narrative by including the Osage people whose homeland the settlers occupied.

Zhawenim Gotts as Good Eagle. Source: Eric Zachanowich/Netflix

To create the series' gorgeous Indigenous wardrobe, costume designer Mitchell Travers tapped 35 Osage artists, who made nearly 3,200 handcrafted pieces over the course of the production, including ribbon work, finger woven sashes, intricate beadwork, silver conchos, moccasins, feather work and more.

"What I found so inspiring about creating the Osage characters was the combination of so many techniques," Travers told WrapStyle of working with makers whose techniques have been preserved through generations and remain vibrant today.

Alyssa Wapanatahk (White Sun) and Xander Cole. Source: Eric Zachanowich/Netflix

"Some have come to their particular craft to better understand their heritage, others have been honing a craft since childhood with techniques passed down through elders, and others run businesses producing goods for their community," he said. 

As Travers immersed himself in traditional Osage dress, working with Osage cultural consultant Julie O'Keefe, The Osage Nation Museum and the National Museum of the American Indian, he discovered that every detail carried meaning.

"Certain blanket styles or the way they are worn communicate age and rank. Color combinations or symbols connect to family lineage, and certain garments are only appropriate in very specific contexts," he added. Preserving those nuances while working within the demands of a television production, he said, was one of the project's most rewarding challenges.

Alyssa Wapanatahk and Osage cultural consultant Julie O’Keefe. Source: Eric Zachanowich/Netflix

The same dedication to authenticity extended to the Ingalls family, although their clothes resonate in an entirely different way. Watching Charles Ingalls cross the prairie in his weathered field jacket, faded work shirt and sturdy boots made me think about the continued obsession with heritage brands and American workwear, in labels like Filson, RRL and Buck Mason.

"It's so interesting to find the through lines of men's workwear still very relevant in today's style," Travers said. "I wanted to create a silhouette and palette for Pa that felt very grounded, masculine and paternal. In an ever-changing world, Pa needed to remain our constant." His clothes become more worn over the course of the series, reflecting the harsh realities of frontier life. 

Crosby Fitzgerald (Caroline Ingalls), Luke Bracey (Charles Ingalls), Skywalker Hughes (Mary Ingalls) and Alice Halsey (Laura Ingalls). Source: Eric Zachanowich/Netflix

The women of Little House felt contemporary in some ways, too. Long before "prairie dressing" and "cottage-core" became shorthand for the romantic collections of brands like Dôen and Christy Dawn—and before social media embraced the so-called tradwife aesthetic—these were clothes designed for hard work, modesty and longevity.

Travers designed into that reality after exhaustive research, studying original garments and photographs in museums across the country, including the Minnesota Historical Society, Genesee Country Village & Museum and Old Sturbridge Village. 

Jocko Sims (Dr. George Tann), Luke Bracey (Charles Ingalls) and Kowen Cadorath (Caleb). Source: Eric Zachanowich/Netflix

"I think it's impossible not to take artistic license when creating entertainment," Travers said of the pieces. "I work hard to understand the period to the fullest extent, but filter that through the lens of how a contemporary audience will interact with it. I want people to find a connection with these characters, those with a background in historical accuracy and those without."

Skywalker Hughes (Mary Ingalls) and Alice Halsey (Laura Ingalls) and Alyssa Wapanatahk (White Sun) . Source: Eric Zachanowich/Netflix

 
 

Betye Saar at the Renaissance Pleasure Faire, 1969. Source: Courtesy of the artist and Roberts Projects

Betye Saar's Formative Wearable Art 

Before Betye Saar began transforming found objects into her famous assemblages, she was finding her creative voice by designing what people wore.

Let's Get It On: The Wearable Art of Betye Saar examines the L.A. artist's early career in theatrical costume and fashion, exploring how they were the foundations of her art practice.

I'm not sure how I missed the opening at Roberts Projects earlier this summer, but am glad I didn't miss the exhibition book release and signing coming up Saturday, July 25 from noon to 2 p.m.. which Saar is expected to attend.

Part of the celebrations surrounding Saar's 100th birthday, which is July 30, the delightful exhibition gathers more than 200 works including costume sketches, garments, jewelry, greeting cards, photographs and archival materials, much of it produced in the colorful 1960s and early '70s.

It begins with Saar's costume designs for the Inner City Cultural Center, the groundbreaking multicultural performing arts institution established after the 1965 Watts Rebellion, where she became part of a vibrant network of Black artists, actors, writers and activists.

Betye Saar, Antigone: Blue Dress, 1970. Mixed media on museum board. Source: Courtesy of the artist and Roberts Projects/Robert Wedemeyer

Newly discovered production photographs are displayed alongside her original sketches for plays including West Side Story and Antigone, showing how theater expanded her visual language. The drama of sets, lighting and performance clearly also find their way into her immersive, symbolic assemblages.

Long before the fine art world embraced her, she supported herself as a designer, creating greeting cards, enamel objects and jewelry while also producing album covers, book jackets and commissioned work. She also made elaborate costumes for her daughters and others to wear for Southern California's Renaissance Pleasure Faire.

Betye Saar Mojo Necklace, 1974. Mixed media on leather. Source: Courtesy of the artist and Roberts Projects/Alan Shaffer

Let's Get It On makes the case that Saar's later work, including Black Girl's Window (1969) and The Liberation of Aunt Jemima (1972), grew directly out of years spent thinking about color, composition and the transformative power of objects.

It also reveals she had a designer's eye from the very beginning, one still evident today in the way Saar dresses herself at age 93, in richly layered colors, textiles and flea market jewelry.

"Let's Get It On: The Wearable Art of Betye Saar," through Aug. 22, Roberts Projects, 442 South La Brea Ave., Los Angeles, robertsprojectsla.com. Book signing July 25, noon to 2 p.m..

Betye Saar, 2026. Source: Courtesy of the artist and Roberts Projects/David Sprague

Parallel Practices: Tailored Structures & Kinetic Surfaces. Source: Albertz Benda/Mark Garcia

Etai's Trippy Collaboration

Los Angeles menswear designer Etai Drori got his start handcrafting bespoke pieces from deconstructed luxury leather goods that earned him a celebrity following including Billie Eilish, Rosalia, Travis Scott and J Balvin. Now, he has found a new material source: the trippy op-art of Spanish artist Felipe Pantone.

Parallel Practices: Tailored Structures & Kinetic Surfaces brings Pantone, who got his start as a graffiti artist, and Etai together at Albertz Benda's L.A. gallery.

The exhibition pairs Pantone's kinetic artworks inspired by the digital world, with furniture and design objects created with Drori.

The designer digitally mapped out each piece before taking it apart and rebuilding it using custom textiles designed by Pantone and produced by the Italian textile company Limonta. 

Pantone's paintings and kinetic sculptures complement the furniture in Benza's residential-style gallery in a midcentury home on Marmont Lane.

I remember Drori from when he was a child. He grew up in a fashion family, the son of L.A. ready-to-wear designer Nony Tochterman, whose Petro Zillia collection was a 2000s favorite at Los Angeles Fashion Week, where she was known for her colorful collections, her pink hair, and riding her pink bicycle down the runway.

For those looking for a more accessible piece of the Pantone collaboration, Drori has lighters for sale on his website for $150.

"Etai x Felipe Pantone Parallel Practices: Tailored Structures of Kinetic Surfaces," through Aug. 8 at Albertz Benda, 8260 Marmont Ln., Los Angeles, albertzbenda.com.