Pregnant Rihanna covers her growing baby bump with a white shirt during outing in Beverly Hills as she prepares to welcome her third child
The singer, 37, covered her growing baby bump with a white button-up shirt, teamed with blue jeans and small heels.
She completed the effortlessly stylish look with Valentino sunglasses, a matching bandana, and chunky gold jewellery.
The Savage Fenty founder stepped out of a black vehicle and was joined by an entourage.
Rihanna is currently expecting her third child with her boyfriend, rapper ASAP Rocky, with whom she already shares sons RZA, three, and Riot, nearly two.
The nine-time Grammy winner revealed her pregnancy news when she showed off her baby bump at the Met Gala back in May.
Just last week, she dished on motherhood as she is expecting her third baby.
She told Access Hollywood that her 'two princes' RZA and Riot have a ton of energy that wear her out when she attended the Smurfs premiere in Los Angeles.
She is the voice actor for Smurfette in the new animated musical-comedy film and brought along her kids for the red carpet event ahead of the movie's release.
It comes just days after the singer attended her father's funeral in her native country of Barbados - after he passed away at the age of 70 on May 30 following a battle with pancreatic cancer and accompanying complications.
During an interview with Extra at the Smurfs premiere, she opened up about her little ones joining her at the screening.
'I'm excited for tonight. Tonight is going to be fun. We get to watch the movie together for the first time. I get to watch it in its full completion. So, that should be interesting,' she expressed.
When questioned how RZA and Riot feel about another addition to their growing family, Rihanna said they were 'delighted' followed by laughter.
However, she remained coy when asked if she was possibly going to welcome a baby girl.
'You'll have to wait and see,' the Love On The Brain hitmaker said, but later said that she has 'always wanted a girl.'
And then when asked if the name of her third child could also start with the letter 'R,' Rihanna replied, 'I mean, of course. It's tradition at this point.'
Meanwhile, Rocky appeared to accidentally reveal the gender of their third child while attending the world premiere of her film Smurfs held at Mont des Arts in Brussels, Belgium.
When ET 's Kevin Frazier asked the 36-year-old rapper 'Is that the girl you've been waiting for' he immediately replied: 'It is, man, it is.'
Feeling cornered, A$AP (born Rakim Athelaston Mayers) then held up a plush Smurfette doll and redirected: 'Right here, you know what I'm saying? Right here.'
The star's appearance at the screening this weekend comes after she flew to Barbados to attend her father Ronald Fenty's funeral which was held in Barbados.
A source told DailyMail.com that Rihanna - whose full name is Robyn Rihanna Fenty - has been deeply saddened by her dad's passing.
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Times
10 minutes ago
- Times
This summer men are baring their chests — how low will you go?
It has been remarked many times that the history of women's fashion can be traced through the rise and fall of hemlines — a pendulum that swings from modesty to liberation then back again. Men's tailoring, in contrast, has gone down a more linear path: one towards undressing. In the 1970s men shed their suit jackets in an effort to shake off some of the formality inherent in tailoring. A few decades later they ditched their ties, relieving the accessory of its symbolic labour until it was only seen at weddings and on newsreaders. Now, in this moment of deshabille, men are moulting their dress shirts. Where they once served as cotton backdrops for a bit of patterned silk, shirts now offer a different kind of display: buttons undone, one by one, until the placket becomes little more than a frame for a patch of bare chest. There's no ignoring how men's style has become so intentionally suggestive. Earlier this year the actor Colman Domingo — arguably the best-dressed male celebrity of the moment — appeared at the Baftas in a floor-sweeping leather overcoat, sharp black suit with cigarette-cut trousers and a silk Versace shirt unbuttoned down to his navel. At the Gladiator II premiere in London Pedro Pascal wore an all-black outfit with his shirt's neckline dipping far below his sternum. And then there's Harry Styles, whose fondness for showing his chest has become an established part of his uniform. One suspects he keeps buttons more for decoration than for closure. Men didn't always dress so freely. In the mid-19th century the average bourgeois Englishman encased himself in layers that spoke less of personal style than of propriety. His linen day shirt — a pared-down descendant of the ruffle and frill-fronted shirts worn by his forebears — was plain by design, as it wasn't meant to be seen. The shirt was considered underwear at the time, serving as what the sociologist Elizabeth Shove has called a 'boundary object': a mediating layer between the private body and the public world. It protected the outer garments from the body's secretions, shielded sensitive skin from itchier wools, and conferred a sense of decency in a society uncomfortable with nakedness. This layer disappeared beneath a high-buttoned waistcoat, a tailored suit jacket and a tightly cinched cravat, leaving only the bright punctuation of shirt collar and cuffs to be seen. These dress practices were rigid in both code and structure. By the late 19th century the collar had become a site of exceptional severity — stiff, detachable and often punishing to the jawline — a starched band that operated, quite literally and figuratively, as a cultural chokehold. There's something telling in the story of John Cruetzi, an American man found dead in Baltimore one evening in 1888. Having had too much to drink, Cruetzi nodded off on a park bench and, as his head tilted forward, the starch-bound collar pressed inward, constricting his windpipe and cutting off the blood flow to his brain. The coroner ruled it death by asphyxia, but one might say he died from his fidelity to decorum. • Read more fashion advice and style inspiration from our experts As cultural codes loosened, the stiff, armoured layers of Victorian respectability eventually fell, one by one. The first casualty was the waistcoat. By the interwar years men had embraced the two-piece suit, revealing the once-invisible shirt beneath. Soon garments once confined to the realm of underthings began migrating outward. Chief among them was the T-shirt, a humble descendant of the calico undervest worn by labourers. Initially meant to warm the torso and absorb sweat, the garment slipped into public view aboard US naval decks, thanks to conscripted sailors, before landing in cinema. There it became the calling card of the disaffected youth: Marlon Brando brooding in A Streetcar Named Desire; James Dean adrift in Rebel Without a Cause. This current wave of male exhibitionism fits within a longer history of changing dress norms, but it doesn't emerge directly from such distant pasts. Instead, it's the product of cultural shifts that have brought sexual display to the forefront of menswear. For much of the past 20 years, men's fashion has favoured restraint, often drawing on the cultivated taste of old-money elites or the heroic look of mid-century labourers. But with changing taste and shifting cultural norms, designers and style-conscious consumers have begun taking inspiration from the lush decades of the 1970s and 1980s. Consequently menswear has become increasingly louche and libidinal. To understand this shift, we have to go back to the early 2000s, when designers such as Raf Simons, Hedi Slimane and Thom Browne shrank men's silhouettes as a counter-reaction to the oversized silhouettes of the previous two decades. For a time men squeezed themselves into clothes that seemed to have been put through a hot wash and tumble-dry: shrunken jackets with narrow lapels, suction-fit shirts with diminutive collars and hip-hugging, low-rise trousers that clung to calves. Twenty years on, the clothes that once telegraphed youth now feel irredeemably middle-aged. To distinguish themselves from the mass market, cutting-edge designers have revived the voluminous styles that earlier designers rebelled against: broad shoulders, deep pleats and billowing fabrics that set sail in the wind. The overall aesthetic recalls Richard Gere's Armani swagger in the 1980 film American Gigolo. • The 'wonderbra' for men, and nine other new menswear trends This shift in proportions has come at a time when gender norms have loosened. Thus, it's no wonder that the flamboyant, expressive styles of the 1970s and 1980s — originally provocations against the bourgeois — have become relevant again. Brands like Bode and Kartik Research tap into the period's bohemian spirit through patchwork and embroidery, while Saint Laurent and Husbands Paris channel the glamour of the era's padded tailoring. As old anxieties around flamboyance recede, a new kind of straight male exhibitionism has emerged: Jeremy Allen White in a mesh tank top; Aimé Leon Dore normalising lace shirts. Shorts are routinely cut with thigh-baring 5in inseams; silky shirts are barely buttoned. If there's any cover at all, it's often in the form of chunky, glamorous eyewear from Jacques Marie Mage, which has muscled out the minimalist, geek-chic frames once associated with intellectualism. While this new style is openly suggestive, it's not always aimed at women. Just as many women dress for the appreciation of other women, straight men now often dress for a discerning male gaze, such as fashion-savvy friends and Instagram followers fluent in the same visual language. The look is sleazy, yes, but sleazy for the boys. A touch of good sense is required when venturing into unbuttoned territory. If you're wearing a standard office shirt with chinos and dress shoes, keep the buttons fastened (no one wants a call from HR). But when away from fluorescent lights and cubicle walls, unfastening a few shirt buttons brings summer comfort and telegraphs ease. A deep, open placket works best with casual shirts, such as chambray work shirts or denim western button-ups. When paired with bootcut jeans and a denim trucker — or, better still, with casual tailoring in linen or a wool-silk-linen blend — the look has a certain roguish charm. For some style inspiration, check out the Instagram accounts for Mark Maggiori (@markmaggiori), Ben Cobb (@bengcobb), Kamau Hosten (@kamauhosten) and Peter Zottolo (@urbancomposition). Or revisit the tousled masculinity of a 1970s Robert Redford. A bit of facial hair — maybe even some chest hair — helps sell the look. For those unsettled by the sight of so many bare sternums, it's worth remembering that every stage of male undressing has been met with discomfort. The T-shirt was once considered improper; tielessness seemed too casual for serious men; even the visible shirt itself was, in Victorian times, akin to showing your underwear. Today's bare chests may raise eyebrows, but they belong to a long lineage of men loosening up. Ultimately there's nothing wrong with any style move, as long as you know what you're expressing.
Daily Mail
an hour ago
- Daily Mail
CAROLINE GRAHAM: She was so kind to me at my lowest point - so I'm delighted that tortured Versace heiress Allegra has never looked better
Glowing with health and looking tanned and relaxed, she could be any young woman enjoying a summer holiday on the beautiful Italian Riviera. But these are the first pictures of billionaire heiress Allegra Versace in more than three years – and show how the shy heir to one of fashion's biggest fortunes has seemingly put her demons to rest. Allegra, 39, is the daughter of Donatella Versace, who announced earlier this year that she is stepping down as the luxury brand's chief creative officer after nearly 30 years in the role. The company has announced it is in the process of being taken over by rival Prada in a £1.08billion deal. For Allegra, photographed last week in the picturesque Italian fishing village of Portofino alongside a man who appeared to be her bodyguard, inheriting 50 per cent of Versace when her uncle Gianni was brutally gunned down in 1997 proved to be a poisoned chalice. The spotlight it shone on her – she is now worth a reported £1.1billion – caused a spiral into an eating disorder which, at its worst, saw her in hospital weighing less than five stone. Allegra was 11 years old when Gianni was brutally slain in Miami by serial killer Andrew Cunanan, a murder that stunned Versace family friends like Princess Diana, Madonna and Elton John and spawned a slew of books and shows including The Assassination Of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, which drew record viewing figures. Her mother would later recall the impact her brother's murder had on the child Gianni called 'my little princess'. Donatella said: 'Gianni was murdered in July and Allegra stopped eating in September.' By the time she was 20 and studying drama, art history and French at UCLA in Los Angeles, her mother and father, former model Paul Beck (who divorced Donatella when Allegra was 14), released a joint statement saying: 'Our daughter Allegra has been battling anorexia, a very serious disease, for many years. She is receiving the best medical care possible to help overcome the illness and is responding well.' Seeing the pictures of a happy and healthy Allegra last week brought back my own memories of a sensitive young woman who showed me extraordinary kindness at one of the lowest points in my life. In 2007 I was being treated for stage three colon cancer at UCLA Medical Centre and would roam the corridors, pushing my IV pole full of morphine and a cocktail of other drugs. I would often notice a painfully thin young woman also pushing an IV pole, hers holding a bag of what looked like liquid nutrients which went into a feeding tube. We would strike up conversations, mostly about the types of things patients discuss in hospital: What are you being treated for? How long have you been in here? Have you watched any decent TV shows recently? The soft-spoken girl introduced herself as 'Allegra' but the penny did not drop. It was only when a 'vision' appeared stomping down the corridor towards me – a woman with long blonde hair wearing tight leather trousers and vertiginous heels – that I thought: 'I must be hallucinating from the morphine because that looks like Donatella Versace.' The Versace name was iconic. Elizabeth Hurley's 'safety-pin dress' at the premiere of Four Weddings And A Funeral had put the design house on front pages worldwide and Gianni's murder made the name infamous. Allegra was portrayed in stories as a 'poor little rich girl heiress' and was rarely seen in public, preferring to remain behind the gold-leaf gates of the Milan mansion where she was raised – or surrounded by guards at one of the other Versace homes, including a sprawling villa on the edge of Lake Como. As Donatella walked past me I saw her go to a room at the end of a long hospital corridor. A massive armed bodyguard stood outside. And I realised who the young woman I'd befriended was. Later that day Allegra appeared in my room with a stack of glossy fashion magazines, including Italian Vogue. I told her I'd seen her mother earlier and she smiled and said: 'Ah, yes, isn't she something? She's a force of nature.' I was struck by how sweet Allegra was. I had just turned 40, twice her age, but she exuded kindness, stopping by regularly to see how I was doing, chatting to my mother, bringing gifts of flowers and even more magazines. Before long I was on my way home to begin the next stage in my cancer journey. Hugging her goodbye, I remember being shocked by how thin she was under her baggy sweatshirt. Over the years, I often wondered how she was getting on. In 2011, Allegra gave a rare interview to Italy's La Repubblica newspaper, saying she preferred to stay out of the limelight: 'I've spent time working with a non-Italian designer, helping him organise fashion shows, the advertising, also helping with the creative part. The great part about this work is that I am no one. I think you can get used to everything, if you feel free, if you are yourself and not what others want you to be.' Discussing her well-publicised battle with anorexia, Allegra said: 'I was lost in other thoughts and couldn't confront reality with my eyes shielded from everything. Above all, I wanted one thing – to be no one, to not be recognised, not be hunted down.' In 2016 she attended the Met Gala in New York alongside her mother and Lady Gaga, telling reporters: 'Unlike my mother, I hate celebrity.' She became a billionaire in 2018 when the Versace family (her mother and surviving uncle Santo owned the other 50 per cent) sold their shares to Capri Holdings, which also owns Michael Kors and Jimmy Choo. Donatella and Allegra remained on the board of the company. With the impending sale of Capri Holdings to Prada it is not known how closely the Versace family will be involved in day-to-day activities, but Donatella will remain a brand ambassador. Little is known about Allegra's private life. She has never been photographed with a romantic partner. But judging by the way she looks in these new pictures it seems she is now at a positive place in life and has found the peace she always craved.
Daily Mail
2 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Brady Bunch star Susan Olsen doesn't look like this anymore as she is spotted on rare outing in LA
The Brady Bunch star Susan Olsen was seen on a rare public outing in LA recently - more than five decades after shooting to fame in the show. The 63-year-old actress - who played Cindy Brady from 1969 to 1974 - looked nearly unrecognizable when she stepped out to pick up her mail. Olsen put on a casual display in a black, graphic T-shirt with burgundy red shorts. Still sporting platinum blonde hair with bangs, she was spotted driving her white SUV. Her outing comes shortly after she revealed she almost died while filming the pilot episode for The Brady Bunch in the late 60s. She also recently opened up about the one gripe she had with playing the character of Cindy, the youngest Brady child of the bunch. Appearing on The Real Brady Bros podcast earlier this year, where she also revealed she was gravely injured while filming the pilot, she said she didn't appreciate playing a dumbed down character. Chatting with former co-stars Barry Williams and Christopher Knight, who played her TV brothers, she looked back on a scene from the pilot episode that illustrated Cindy's dense mind. In the episode, Cindy and sisters Marcia and Jan talk to their mom Carol ahead of her wedding. Carol says she feels butterflies, to which the youngest Brady replies, 'Are you sleeping with your mouth open, mommy?' 'That's just how my career was and it was something I had to accept,' Olsen said about her tendency to play dull roles. Williams, 70, weighed in: 'Do you understand that you were the cutest person in the world? You're just adorable.' The 63-year-old actress looked nearly unrecognizable when she stepped out in Los Angeles on Tuesday morning And 67-year-old Knight added that the former child star Susan had a 'doll face.' Williams also said that he and Knight were aware that Olsen was 'a little bit uncomfortable with the nature' of her character. 'You're so much smarter than the character and you're so much edgier than your character. But here it is right there. You're saying the most idiotic thing imaginable,' he observed. During the same interview, Olsen also has revealed that a grave accident could have killed her while she filmed the pilot for the iconic series in the late 1960s. She recounted being left with a swollen face after lighting equipment fell directly onto her. 'My eyes were black. I mean, I had two black eyes. My nose was swollen. My face was swollen,' the actress said on the rewatch podcast. The incident happened the day before the cast gathered to film the pilot episode in 1969. Just seven years old at the time, Olsen had been getting her makeup done when she was struck. She shared the story with former costars Barry Williams and Christopher Knight, and she noted that she wished her family had sued the studio for the accident. 'The saddest news is that we didn't sue Paramount, because I would have made more off of that than the show,' Olsen said candidly. 'But I came to work the next day. Florence [Henderson] was the first one to see me. She's like, "You make sure everybody sees her." And my mom was like, "Oh, yes, I will." Because everybody was trying to say, "It didn't really hit her. She's fine."' The actress continued, 'I looked like I was in a horror film. And then everybody knew, yes, I had gotten hurt, and I had gotten hurt very badly.'
