Ariana Grande’s tough year has at least one bright spot: her fashion evolution

Until recently, all signs pointed to Ariana Grande’s unstoppable ascent. She is beautiful, talented and even disarmingly funny. Grande leaped from Nickelodeon kid to cross-generational superstar, navigating the psychological toll of fame with relative success.

She built a massive fan base, scored major hits, racked up millions of YouTube views, collected music awards and landed a leading role in the most talked-about Hollywood musical of recent years, Wicked. It seemed clear she had entered the big leagues. Then came the past year.

The year brought mixed reviews for the Wicked sequel, a much-scrutinized and, to some observers, puzzlingly intense relationship with co-star Cynthia Erivo, public shaming over claims she is a “serial cheater,” and growing concern over her extremely thin appearance. Add the fact that she has not won a single award this season and did not secure an Oscar nomination, and it becomes clear this is likely not a year Grande will look back on fondly.

On the other hand, professionally speaking, the downturn has been a fashion triumph.

At 32, Grande has shed the sweet but sexy pop-princess aesthetic. The oversized sweaters, thigh-high boots, mini skirts and signature high ponytail have been replaced by a modern, even slimmer interpretation of Audrey Hepburn.

Her wardrobe is classic, regal, delicate and intentionally fragile, with unmistakable nods to old Hollywood glamour. This nostalgic romanticism aligns with what has been dubbed the “Ozempic look,” a combination of extreme thinness and pallor that echoes the “heroin chic” aesthetic of the 1990s, a look that never fully disappeared.

The fashion nostalgia began with the costumes Oscar-winning designer Paul Tazewell created for her in Wicked, pieces that read as strikingly precise tributes to Christian Dior’s 1950s designs.

Off screen, particularly on red carpets, most of her appearances at the dozens of high-profile events she attended this year have felt like fabric-and-glitter voyages through a time tunnel back to that glamorous decade.

At last year’s Oscars, where she was nominated but did not win, she arrived in not one but two Schiaparelli princess gowns, effectively launching a fashion victory lap in what otherwise became her most professionally disappointing year.

The aesthetic carried into the March issue of Vogue Japan, with imagery evoking an era when “oversize” referred only to the circumference of a skirt. At the Golden Globes, she wore a black Vivienne Westwood gown with bare shoulders, a cinched waist and a voluminous skirt. At the Critics Choice Awards, she leaned fully into her Glinda persona with a pink Alberta Ferretti fairy-tale dress adorned with Swarovski crystals.

For the Wicked: Part 2 premiere, she chose a black-and-white corseted Schiaparelli design by Daniel Roseberry. At the film’s Singapore premiere, she bared a startlingly thin back in a blush sequined Balenciaga gown that reached even further into the past, echoing the silhouettes of the 1920s.

At the Academy Museum Governors Awards, she wore a vintage John Galliano-era Dior gown in embroidered pink satin with an asymmetrical neckline and side train, looking more Audrey than Hepburn herself.

Not every choice was flawless. A Louis Vuitton gown at the British Academy Film Awards drew comparisons to a tangled flamenco skirt, and a Dior crinoline at the Critics Choice Awards lacked refinement.

Still, she left these events without trophies but rich in fashion credibility, positioning herself as a star determined to revive Hollywood’s lost glamor.

For now, Grande is facing a wave of hostility on social media. Critics point to her rapid shifts between relationships, mock her hand-holding and tearful public moments with Cynthia Erivo, question her extreme thinness and cast doubt on her acting abilities.

Hollywood’s pendulum, however, swings quickly. One successful new album or a candid, “I made mistakes, I learned, forgive me” interview, the kind American audiences reliably embrace, could restore her status as a public favorite. She has already ditched the blonde hair for her natural brown, a symbolic first step back toward the mainstream.

Grande’s romantic, nostalgic fashion direction suggests a performer who belongs to another era yet remains strikingly relevant. At the same time, her dramatic physical transformation increasingly lends her a childlike appearance. The effect peaked in a recent Backstage cover shoot, where she wore a white lace dress and looked like a bride at an age when, in many parts of the world, marriage would still be legally off-limits.

So cheers for the wardrobe choices, with a side of “please, eat something.”