Inside the Academy Museum Gala 2025: Sydney Sweeney, Zoë Kravitz & Charli XCX Own the Night
From satin elegance to rock-star edge, Hollywood’s brightest stars brought raw glamour and human charm to Los Angeles’ most cinematic red carpet.
Los Angeles, October 19 EST: It was one of those sticky L.A. evenings that pretends to be fall but really isn’t. Sunset smeared across the sky like paint someone forgot to blend, and down on Wilshire, the line of black cars stretched for blocks. Drivers idled, assistants fussed, and out front of the Academy Museum, a few onlookers leaned over barricades, phones already up.
Inside, everything shimmered. The glass walls threw back the light in a hundred directions. You could hear the faint thrum of a cello somewhere upstairs. The smell of champagne. Someone’s cologne that was a little too much. Nights like this, you half expect the ghosts of old Hollywood to wander through just to check if we’re doing it right.
Sydney Sweeney
Sydney Sweeney showed up early. Smart move the carpet’s calmer then. Her dress, a pale Armani Privé number, looked like it might dissolve if you touched it. She stood for a beat longer than necessary under the lights, not milking it, just breathing. A stylist smoothed the hem, someone yelled her name, and she gave that quick half-smile she does when she’s trying not to.
The thing about Sweeney is she doesn’t play the ingénue anymore. You can see it in the way she carries herself now no flinch, no fluster. That gown wasn’t just a look, it was punctuation.
Zoë Kravit
Then Zoë Kravitz appeared, and the noise dimmed a little. It always does with her. She wore Saint Laurent, black and minimal, like she’d stepped straight out of a frame from some forgotten French film. Her shoulders squared just enough, her hair slick and uncomplicated.
She didn’t smile much. Didn’t need to. There’s this calm she has that borders on defiance like she’s daring the flashbulbs to catch her off guard. They never do. Watching her, you realize how rare stillness has become.
Charli XCX
And then came Charli XCX, because of course she did. You could hear her laugh before she hit the carpet. Same house Saint Laurent again but her version had bite. Black satin, sharp angles, the kind of look that winks while it stares you down.
She didn’t pose properly. The photographers yelled and she just kept moving, turning the whole thing into performance art. You could almost hear her thinking, Fine, get the shot, but it’ll be mine.
The Room Itself
By the time everyone got inside, the museum felt like it was humming. Waiters glided past with trays of something bubbly. Penélope Cruz was at a front table, talking with Bruce Springsteen you could see the easy laughter, the mutual respect. People forget he cleans up well. Someone tripped on a train of tulle and just kept walking, laughing the way you do when it’s not really funny but you can’t stop.
The thing about the Academy Museum Gala is it’s meant to be elegant, sure, but it’s also a fundraiser. For exhibits, education, the stuff that keeps film history from fading into trivia. That gets lost in the glitz. Still, you could sense it in the speeches the quiet gratitude for what movies used to mean, and what they still can.
Later
Close to midnight, the night started to unspool. The crowd thinned. A bit of confetti clung to the stairs out front. One of the catering staff leaned against a pillar, checking their phone. Across the lot, a driver revved an engine, tired of waiting.
Sweeney slipped out first, wrapped in a jacket too big for her dress. Kravitz followed, silent, unbothered. Charli lingered, talking with someone from the press, still laughing, still electric.
From the curb, you could see the museum lights reflected in the glass towers beyondL.A. showing off again. And for all the talk about style, about couture and legacy and whatever else, it came down to a simple truth: everyone there just wanted to feel like they belonged in the movie for one more night.
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Korean-American minimalist living in Hoboken, Ren blends aesthetic writing with deep dives into wellness, home design, urban routines, and the pursuit of the good life. Think Monocle meets MindBodyGreen.
