Austin Butler and Zoë Kravitz Are Dressing Like a Freaky Y2K Power Couple
With his tousled hair and aviator shades, Butler looked ruggedly handsome at the first photocall in London last week, where he sported a cocoa-brown work jacket, a white tee with a torn neckline, bleach-stained green corduroys, and scuffed Red Wing boots. Next to him, Kravitz wore a semi-sheer, pale yellow Saint Laurent tea dress with black ballet flats, red lipstick, and oval cat-eye sunglasses. Both looked artfully bedraggled, as though they’d each enjoyed a blissed-out catnap in the car en route to the event.
They maintained that glamorously relaxed aura when they dressed up for a red-carpet screening in London that evening. Each wore Saint Laurent, the sexy French luxury label for which they both happen to be brand ambassadors: Butler in a strong-shouldered, double-breasted black suit with a scoop-necked white tank; Kravitz in a va-va-voom black satin V-neck gown with bareface makeup, her hair worn long and loose. In a less-calculated world, they could have been a gussied-up Jolie and Thornton at the 2002 Golden Globes, where both actors honored their respective freaks with painted-on Elvira eyebrows and a backwards cap with tinted shades.
When the Caught Stealing tour traveled to Paris two days later, Kravitz and Butler kept up the routine: For a daytime photocall, she wore a skimpy white tank and long black silk skirt, with slingback Manolos and Trinity-from-The–Matrix shades. He wore a dove-gray (and, per the brand, sun-faded) silk dress shirt by ERL over a ribbed white tank, with drawstring dress pants and hefty leather boots. That evening, she switched into a lace-trimmed Saint Laurent slip dress and strappy heels; he into glossy brown leather pants with two knit shirts layered on top of each other. Per the Daily Mail, the co-stars were later spotted “drinking, hugging and leaning in close to one another” that evening.
Make no mistake: Kravitz and Butler look hot, and there are few things better than alleged tipsy canoodling. But they’ve hardly reached the same echelon of freakiness as Jolie and Thornton, who famously wore vials of each other’s blood around their necks and walked onto every red carpet as if they were ready to literally tear each other’s flesh apart. Any contemporary attempt to emulate the OG’s freak would be a fool’s errand; no playful banter about the meaning behind Pearl Jam’s band name can convince me otherwise.
And sure, the apparent Kravitz-Styles sighting in Rome might throw a wrench in things—or it’ll stir the pot just enough.
