Bianca Censori and the Politics of Being Bare

When Bianca Censori stepped onto the 2025 Grammys red carpet effectively nude—wearing a sheet nude slip—public reaction oscillated between shock, voyeurism, and fascination. It was a look that existed somewhere between couture provocation and calculated exposure, instantly absorbed into the digital churn of reaction videos, reposts, and outrage. People expressed outrage over the nudity, some called for criminal charges, while others expressed concern over Censori and her perceived manipulation at the hands of husband Kanye West. Regardless of what they were, everyone had opinions. The more media attention this attained, the more people began to realize that this was not an isolated incident. A multitude of paparazzi photos feature Censori and Kanye out in public as she wears practically no clothing; a candy lingerie set, completely sheer tights, or a strategically placed pillow. Many people have expressed disgust at this public display of nudity, but the real question that lingers is not what she was wearing, but rather was who the outfit was serving. Was this an expression of personal style, or a gross objectification?

Bianca Censori did not enter public life as a celebrity in her own right. Before her marriage to Kanye West, she was a relatively private architectural student in Australia and owned her own jewelry brand, with a strong interest in creative and artistic work. Described as a posh, party-girl, her fashion was revealing but in an Instagram model way: form-fitting dresses, glam makeup, and athleisure. Now, barely a year later, she is a fixture of disturbing paparazzi pictures as a fully dressed Kanye accompanies his nearly nude wife—silent, enigmatic, and styled with an almost uncanny extremity and nakedness. Her sudden transformation raises the stakes of the conversation: when a woman’s fashion becomes her only voice, what happens when that “voice” seems engineered by someone else?

Kanye West’s history of styling the women in his life has been extensively documented. Kim Kardashian herself has spoken about how deeply Kanye directed her wardrobe, evolving her from reality-TV glam to a minimalist, Yeezy-inflected silhouette. While Bianca Censori’s exact stylist remains unknown, it isn’t a stretch—given Kanye West’s history and creative control in past relationships—to assume he may be shaping her current fashion direction. Censori rarely speaks publicly. She does no interviews, offers no commentary, and seldom engages on social media. Her silence becomes part of the styling strategy: the clothes speak on her behalf, or perhaps the person choosing the clothes does. In the absence of her voice, her fashion begins to feel less like expression and more like a branding tool for Kanye as he parades his nearly naked, silent wife around for his majority male audience, selling his image through her objectification.

This curated nude aesthetic also aligns seamlessly with Kanye’s long-standing artistic preoccupation with the female body as display. From the Famous music video—with its tableau of hyperreal nude replicas of celebrities—to the Vultures album artwork which features a scantily clad Censori, Kanye has consistently used women’s bodies as symbols, props, or provocations. With Censori, the line blurs between muse and material. Her near-nudity is not just visible; it is branded. It mirrors the stripped-down, skin-as-costume visuals of Vultures, and feeds directly into Kanye’s audience, a demographic in which male fans and cultural spectatorship heavily intersect. In this sense, Censori becomes a commodity within the Kanye industrial complex—an aesthetic object that enhances the spectacle of his public persona.

While revealing fashion is not new, celebrities have long embraced sheer gowns, naked dresses, and body-conscious designs that play on the tension between empowerment and exposure. Yet Censori’s fashion feels categorically different from, say, the controlled sensuality of a runway naked dress or the deliberate glamour of a Mugler revival. Typically, a sheer dress suggests autonomy, artistry, or even rebellion. In Censori’s case, the styling reads less as empowerment and more as erasure—her individuality subsumed beneath someone else’s aesthetic vision. The repetition of nude, the extremity of exposure, and the consistency of silence create a fashion narrative that feels more like stewardship than self-expression. Censori’s voice is repeatedly taken from, by Kanye and also by the public who continually speculate on her relationship and her appearance. Her body becomes the garment, and her identity becomes secondary to the spectacle of being seen.