Around this time every year, accessories designer Stuart Weitzman debuts a one-of-a-kind pair of Oscar shoes festooned with $1 million worth of precious gems. It's a stunt he started in 2002, when "Mulholland Drive" actress Laura Elena Harring pranced down the red carpet in diamond-encrusted sandals. Since then, actress Regina King and singer Alison Krauss, among others, have worn the high-profile "Cinderella" slipper, and the ploy has always garnered lots of publicity.
But this year, with the economy backfiring, Weitzman won't be playing Prince Charming. Many actresses will undoubtedly adorn themselves with plenty of carats at Sunday's Academy Awards, but no one wants to be branded an out-of-touch fairy princess.
The issue of appearance is playing out all over Hollywood this week: How do you deliver the red carpet glamour expected on Oscar night, but also show some sensitivity to the state of the economy? It's a delicate balance to strike in a town not known for its restraint.
Oscar parties such as the Vanity Fair bash and Madonna's annual soiree are being scaled back considerably, but certainly not canceled. (Expect to munch on mini hamburgers instead of foie gras, and don't be surprised to see recycled decor from parties past.)
Lavish gifting suites are on the wane and there are fewer outrageous offerings like the "diamond facial" (in which tiny diamond chips are used to exfoliate the skin). But the red carpet, a factory in itself and the most public spectacle associated with awards season, is having a harder time dialing it back. Picture a prom queen being asked to skip the limo.
"Would you really want to tune in and see a bunch of women walking down the red carpet in black pantsuits?" asked Hal Rubenstein, fashion director of InStyle magazine and an Oscar fashion commentator on "Good Morning America."
"It's a recession, not an apocalypse."
Rubenstein isn't alone in defending the necessity of glamour. Many fashion stylists, jewelers and makeup artists interviewed for this article insist that the red carpet represents escapism. They say that a toned-down parade wouldn't be nearly as transporting for viewers who tune in for the Technicolor thrill of seeing their favorite stars dressed like royalty in borrowed finery.