Bianca Censori has once again demonstrated her unwavering commitment to sheer fabrics, this time enlisting fishnet for a date night with husband Kanye West.
The Australian architect, 31, was spotted leaving the Living Room Club in Los Angeles with the controversial rapper after a night out partying with friends.
And while most people might consider a fishnet top something to wear over or under another item of clothing, Bianca evidently believes layering is for cowards.
Opting for a bright red, completely see-through mesh tube top with absolutely no bra underneath, she paired the daring number with a silky red skirt and matching heels.
Kanye, 49, meanwhile, appeared to be attending an entirely different event.
The rapper opted for a denim ensemble and chunky, Stormtrooper-style boots, looking decidedly stone-faced as he held hands with his wife.
While Bianca looked dressed for a risqué Valentine’s Day party themed simply ‘Nipples’, Kanye looked ready to break in a stallion on a Colorado ranch after returning from active military duty.
The couple made their exit hand in hand, with Bianca navigating the paparazzi while also helping her top perform one of a top’s traditional duties.
Of course, there will always be people who look at Bianca’s risqué outfits and sneer, accusing her of objectifying herself, setting feminism back several decades, or participating in some elaborate humiliation ritual.
And indeed, it’s an interesting design choice when your outfit requires you to become part of its structural engineering.
But have the naysayers considered that perhaps there’s a deeper artistic statement at play? That maybe we’re simply not reading enough into what Bianca is trying to communicate through her sartorial choices?
No, of course they haven’t.
No worries: I’ve done it for you! Thinking and writing about Bianca Censori is a professional hazard for me, so it seems only right that I should take your hand and lead you through this dark, tangled forest, dear reader.
Perhaps the strategically placed arm in this latest outfit suggests the Madonna-whore paradox is an ever-evolving dance, a living, breathing piece of performance art that every woman must endlessly negotiate, caught between the competing demands to be desirable but never too available, provocative but never immodest.
Perhaps the arm is the art. Perhaps the fishnet is merely the canvas upon which the contradictions of modern womanhood are laid bare! See Mom, I told you minoring in gender studies at an American uni wasn’t a waste of money!
Perhaps Bianca is an underrecognized genius of performance art, afterall, not even Marina Abramovic has managed to get quite so many people staring at her work while simultaneously insisting they’re offended by it.
But perhaps we’re still not reading deeply enough, dear reader!
Perhaps this red fishnet look is an elaborate homage to Susan Sontag, a meditation on the female body as both spectacle and prison, with Bianca’s strategically placed arm representing Sontag’s idea:
‘For the ideal of beauty is administered as a form of self-oppression. Women are taught to see their bodies in parts, and to evaluate each part separately… each in turn is submitted to an anxious, fretful, often despairing scrutiny.‘
Perhaps we’ve leered and laughed at Bianca’s outfits for far too long, missing the searing feminist subtext beneath the mesh.
Perhaps we all owe her an apology for failing to recognise one of the great artistic provocateurs of our time.
Perhaps I had to write something to fill the space between these photographs, and this was the best I could come up with.
We may never know.
Most likely, she just wanted to get her knockers out and dance with her husband in a sexy outfit.
More power to her!!!
Of course, this is hardly unfamiliar territory for the woman whose breasts I have seen and written about more times than I have seen the sun rise or heard my mother’s laugh.
Over the years, Bianca’s wardrobe has included transparent bodysuits, barely-there ensembles, and outfits that look like the result of a Project Runway challenge in which contestants were given one pair of tights to share, 20 minutes on the clock, and instructions to work in the dark with their non-dominant hands.
Most famously, Bianca rocked up to the 2025 Grammys in a completely transparent dress, prompting people worldwide to ask, ‘Is she going to sit on soft furniture in that?’
At this point, Bianca wearing a jumper would probably generate more headlines than Bianca walking down Hollywood Boulevard wearing nothing but perfume and a smile.
There is, however, something to be said for her dedication to the aesthetic. Can even the most daring of fashion’s innovators claim to have stuck by their personal brands with such commitment?
Plenty of celebrities have flirted with the naked-dressing trend, but Bianca has made it a full-time occupation, seemingly determined to prove that modesty is as dead as shame is in American politics.
And perhaps there is a method to the madness. As she continues to desensitise the public to the casual sight of her naked body, might women everywhere reap the benefits? Have you considered that, dear reader?
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Might we one day emerge into a glorious post-nudity world in which no woman ever regrets wearing a slightly short skirt after a man leers at her on the train, or is asked what she was wearing when she recounts a handsy date to a male friend?
Perhaps Bianca is, in her own entirely unconventional way, inoculating men against the sight of the female body, in the hope that one day they might learn to behave normally around it. Think of it, dear reader, as exposure therapy for the male gaze, a way of visually vaccinating the penis-having masses.
Unfortunately, if I come down from the caffeine high of my post-lunch Diet Coke and get honest with myself and you, I suspect the clinical trials would be disappointing.
Men have had thousands of years to get used to women’s bodies, and are still behaving reprehensibly towards them.
Bianca’s clothes may be ridiculous. They may be brilliant. They may be a carefully considered artistic statement, or they may simply be what she fancied wearing to dinner. They may be, as her many critics believe, attention-seeking behaviour in a world that’s taught her her body is her only value.
Until something changes, women will continue to be held responsible for what men do with their eyes, their hands, and their imaginations, regardless of how much—or how little—they happen to be wearing.
So wear whatever you want, Bianca; why not? They’d criticise you regardless. It’s as simple and as complicated as that.