No nipples, no drama? Here’s why Cannes Film Festival 2025 might be the end of the “naked dress” on red carpets

Nipples are out and decency is in

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Cannes Film Festival 2025 has drawn new red carpet boundaries with a stricter dress code – banning “full nudity” and “excessively voluminous” outfits, according to multiple entertainment and fashion sources.

On the Croisette, where fashion and film have long danced a careful pas de deux, the answer used to be clear: elegance, celebration, cinematic glamour. But the 2025 edition came with a sharp pivot – one that’s turned fashion’s favourite runway into a question of limits. Just hours before opening night, organisers issued a new dress code banning full nudity, sheer gowns, and voluminous outfits.

“For decency reasons, nudity is prohibited on the red carpet, as well as in any other area of the festival,” the official charter now reads, as reported by The Hollywood Reporter. “Voluminous outfits, particularly those with a large train, that hinder guest movement or complicate seating are not permitted.”

The reaction has been swift and divided.

To some, the move feels overdue. For years, the film event’s red carpet has been awash with attention-seeking looks that often overshadow the films themselves. Supermodels Bella Hadid, Irina Shayk and Natasha Poly have become poster girls for ultra-sheer, body-baring gowns – outfits that, as Women’s Wear Daily notes, leave little to the imagination. Hadid’s infamous Schiaparelli lung necklace dress and Shayk’s barely-there lingerie-inspired ensembles have become defining images of recent Cannes seasons.

In 2023, Leila Depina’s thong-revealing chainmail dress only added to the growing trend of red carpet shockwear, prompting fresh debate about boundaries and intention.

And then came the tipping point: as Variety reports, a topless protestor in 2022, and more recently, Bianca Censori’s transparent dress at the 2025 Grammys, have prompted a cultural reckoning, where nudity on the red carpet is no longer read as fashion, but provocation.

For Cannes, a festival grounded in cinematic artistry, this has raised the stakes. Organisers insist the move is not about policing style but about maintaining order and dignity in accordance with French law. Still, the sudden enforcement has left a bitter aftertaste for many in the fashion world. As BBC News reflects, “it’s striking when a red carpet famous for celebrating couture begins to regulate it.”

Halle Berry, serving on the 2025 jury, confirmed that she had to scrap her original Gaurav Gupta gown due to its oversized train. “I had to make a pivot,” she told The New York Post, adding diplomatically, “but the nudity part is probably a good rule.” She eventually appeared in a black and white striped trapeze gown by Jacquemus, featuring a unique bustle detail at the back. 

Still, it’s hard to ignore the double standard. Bare skin may be banned on the carpet, but it remains ever-present on screen, usually on women, and often unquestioned. This raises an uncomfortable question: who gets to be seen, and on what terms?

Critics have also highlighted the irony of Cannes invoking “decency” when the festival itself has platformed problematic figures and, historically, enforced narrow standards of femininity. BBC News and Stylist remind us of 2015’s “flatgate” scandal, where women were turned away for not wearing heels.

Meanwhile in 2022, Indigenous Canadian filmmaker Kelvin Redvers was denied red carpet access for wearing traditional moccasins – beaded by his sister and made of moose hide – despite pairing them with a tuxedo. Different contexts, same pattern: when dress codes defy convention, they risk rejection. Modesty, it seems, can be as offensive as exposure.

In banning volume and nudity, Cannes is attempting to reclaim a sense of red carpet refinement. But fashion is a language. And a red carpet, arguably, is its loudest microphone. Whether it’s a sheer dress or a cloud-like train, these sartorial statements don’t stop at just dressing the body, but they also articulate the wearer’s identity. What kind of glamour is left when women can no longer wear what they want?

Perhaps the real issue isn’t visibility, but who’s visible. Will the rules apply equally to Hollywood royalty, L’Oréal ambassadors and influencers alike? Or will exceptions be quietly made, as they have been in the past?

If history is any indication, those who break the rules (deliberately or not) often win the public over. Think: Julia Roberts, who walked the red carpet barefoot at the Money Monster premiere in 2016, a subtle rebuke following reports that women were turned away the year before for wearing flats. Or Kristen Stewart in 2018, who removed her Louboutins on the steps in protest of the same unspoken rule. “If you’re not asking guys to wear heels and a dress, you cannot ask me either,” she later said. Cate Blanchett also made headlines in 2023 when she removed her shoes on stage at Cannes in solidarity with Iranian women – an act that turned a moment of glamour into a gesture of global empathy. Disobedience, when grounded in authenticity, resonates.

So as Cannes steps into a new era of red carpet restraint, the real test isn’t what women wear. It’s how freely and how fairly they’re allowed to express themselves.

Because if a dress can cause this much disruption, was the problem ever the dress at all?

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