Floating high above Manhattan, Sofia Carson (a vision, honestly) brought old-world glamour and a whisper of cinema to the Empire State Building.
There is a certain kind of magic that belongs exclusively to the Empire State Building. It’s not the view, not really—it’s the cinematic promise, the lingering ghost of classic Hollywood romance. A place for grand gestures. And who better to channel that legacy than Sofia Carson, a woman who understands the drama of a moment?
Stepping onto the observatory deck, she wasn’t simply wearing a dress; she was embodying a feeling. The look is a cascade of off-white pleats—chiffon, perhaps, or a gossamer-fine crepe—that seems to float around her with every gust of wind. It’s an homage to a bygone era, a look that feels plucked from the 1970s and given a clean, modern restraint. I am obsessed with the details: the high neck, the delicate pussy-bow collar, the long, elegant sleeves that billow out like a whisper. The dress itself feels like a protagonist.
