I don’t know who needed to hear this, but Cannes 2025 did not come to play. And when it was time for the out-of-competition premiere of Spike Lee’s Highest 2 Lowest, I just knew the fashion gods were about to descend on that red carpet with divine vengeance. Because let’s be honest—Spike Lee doesn’t do ordinary. And neither does Cannes.
This wasn’t just a screening. It was a cultural reset. A cinematic homage. A red carpet that doubled as a runway. And from the first flashbulb to the final step-and-repeat pose, I was fully gagged.
We have to start with Rihanna. I mean, is it even a Spike Lee premiere without a larger-than-life entrance from a woman who understands the assignment down to her cuticle beds? She floated into the Palais in a sky-blue, asymmetrically draped Alaïa gown that was equal parts art, architecture, and angel.
This wasn’t a safe fashion moment. The gown’s sculptural silhouette clung to her like liquid ceramic, and it gave. It gave mother. It gave muse. It gave Monaco billionaire’s wife with a trust fund built on her own cosmetics empire. Rihanna paired it with icy diamonds, a low chignon, and that signature “yes I am the moment” expression. Her baby bump peeked through the fabric like a quiet flex. The message? “I’m creating life and breaking the internet in one evening. Try and top that.”
She was technically there supporting A\$AP Rocky, but let’s not get it twisted. When Rihanna walks in, she becomes the headline. And rightfully so. She didn’t just wear fashion. She was the fashion.Now Rocky… listen. The man knows his angles. And his tailoring. He stepped onto the red carpet in a custom Bode tuxedo that oozed sophistication while whispering “Brooklyn edge.” The soft brown velvet suit, with embroidery nodding to Harlem Renaissance glamour, felt vintage yet fresh—like hip-hop royalty had arrived.
Wide lapels, beaded hems, contrast silk piping—every detail hit. He accessorized with layered pearls and slim-framed vintage shades that somehow stayed put through the frenzy. It was rich uncle chic with a downtown twist. Rocky keeps proving he can walk both hip-hop and haute couture without missing a beat. That’s why he remains fashion’s most bankable wildcard.
Now let’s talk about our leading man—Denzel. There’s quiet power in consistency, and no one embodies that more. He showed up in a classic black tux with satin peak lapels, crisp white shirt, and patent leather shoes polished enough to reflect your insecurities. No gimmicks. Just presence.
That’s what Denzel brings. And it’s why the crowd lost it when he stepped out like cinema royalty returning to his throne. His look wasn’t the flashiest, but it didn’t need to be. It was grounded. Timeless. “I don’t need to try hard—I am the standard.”
And then there was Jason Momoa. A walking contradiction in the best way—towering and rugged, yet soft in the gaze. He arrived with Adria Arjona, and the two of them? Pure cinematic chemistry. Jason wore a crisp white three-piece suit: double-breasted blazer, tailored trousers, matching waistcoat. The summery French Riviera vibe met old-school Hollywood glamour.He kept it relaxed with an open neckline—no tie, no collar—just chest and charm. Burnished brown leather double monk straps grounded the look. Accessories? Minimal but distinct: oversized tinted sunglasses, signature rings, groomed beard. His long hair pulled back into a weave let his chiseled features shine.
Adria, by his side, stunned in a strapless sage green satin gown with a flowing train and ruched bodice. The gown’s subtle sheen played beautifully against Jason’s white, making them a perfectly styled duo—romantic and modern. This look? A masterclass in balancing tailored elegance with bohemian ease. Clean, confident, commanding.
And of course—Spike Lee. The man behind the moment. He didn’t just walk the carpet; he owned it. While most played it safe in muted tuxes, Spike Lee said, “Let me remind y’all—I’m here to make a statement.”He wore a bold orange and electric blue pinstripe suit that felt like Harlem Renaissance collided with NBA streetwear—and it worked. The vertical stripes were loud but structured, classic in cut but wild in spirit. And the flair with which he wore it? Undeniable. His whole stance said, “This is my carpet.”
Underneath: crisp white shirt, buttoned up. On top: a royal blue fedora that pulled the look together like punctuation at the end of a jazz solo. His signature round spectacles? Check. Chunky black sneakers grounded the whole look with that essential Spike Lee energy: unapologetic, comfortable, cool.
What I love most about this look? It was so him. Spike Lee never shows up trying to fit anyone’s mold. He brings history, art, and unapologetic Blackness into everything he wears. That outfit wasn’t just clothes. It was a thesis. A mic drop. A vibe.
What made the fashion at Highest 2 Lowest so exceptional wasn’t just the star power or designer labels—it was the energy. A synergy between storytelling and style. Every outfit had intent, from textures to tones. Everyone knew they were entering a Spike Lee moment—and they dressed accordingly.
There was a boldness that felt like a nod to Spike Lee himself: his use of color theory, love for symbolism, refusal to ever be boring. The fashion told its own story—loud when it needed to be, restrained when it mattered, personal at every turn.
Even the lesser-publicized looks held weight. International press, rising filmmakers, stylists in the crowd—many wore avant-garde Balmain, Jacquemus tailoring, archival Margiela. It was a collective elevation. People weren’t just attending—they were participating in the moment.
Spike Lee reimagined a Japanese classic through Brooklyn soul. The fashion reimagined Cannes through fearless self-expression. Unapologetically Black. Boldly American. Undeniably global. It was storytelling meets spectacle, with everyone arriving as their most authentic, elevated selves.
Cannes has always meant glamour—but this felt like a cultural checkpoint. A reminder that fashion isn’t just stitched fabric. It’s identity. It’s protest. It’s history. It’s joy.
And this premiere? It was all of that—wrapped in silk, velvet, and diamonds, delivered with a swagger that can’t be faked. I may not have been there physically, but my spirit was front row, heels off, popcorn in hand, edges gone. Highest 2 Lowest didn’t just debut a film.
