Julia Fox’s Bloody “Jackie O” Halloween Costume Sparks Outrage and Debate Over Tribute Versus Exploitation

October 31

Instead of just wearing the iconic pink suit, Fox chose to cover it in blood. Andy Kropa/Invision/AP

On the night of October 30 in New York City, actress and model Julia Fox stepped into the spotlight not merely as a glamorous figure in the fashion world but as a provocateur. At a themed Halloween party hosted by writer-performer Julio Torres, Fox arrived dressed in a meticulously crafted reference to the iconic outfit worn by Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis on November 22, 1963 the raspberry-pink tweed suit she refused to change out of after the assassination of her husband, President John F. Kennedy. What turned heads and ignited controversy was the addition of fake blood splattered across the ensemble and hat, a design choice that overtly referenced the violence of that day and the moment of national trauma that followed.

Fox’s costume reenacted not only the visual elements the pillbox hat, white gloves, navy-trimmed bag but also the emotional lodestones of the original moment: horror transformed by dignity, public grief crystallised into an image. She posted the look to her Instagram, captioned: “I’m dressed as Jackie Kennedy in the pink suit. Not as a costume, but as a statement. When her husband was assassinated, she refused to change out of her blood-stained clothes … The image of the delicate pink suit splattered with blood is one of the most haunting juxtapositions in modern history. Beauty and horror. Poise and devastation.”

In her defence, Fox framed the costume as an act of homage, protest and mourning; she described Jackie’s decision to remain in her blood-soaked outfit as “extraordinary bravery” and said her own choice was rooted in themes of trauma, power and femininity as resistance. “It was performance, protest, and mourning all at once. A woman weaponising image and grace to expose brutality,” she wrote.

But the reaction was swift and sharply divided. Among the most vocal critics was Jack Schlossberg, the grandson of Jackie Kennedy, who on X stated: “Julia Fox glorifying political violence is disgusting, desperate and dangerous. I’m sure her late grandmother would agree.” He condemned the visual as not a tribute but a commodification of real-world violence.

Social-media responses ranged from claims of tasteful symbolism to outright condemnation. One commenter captured the tone succinctly: “Tragedy is not a costume.” Another labelled the outfit “disturbing” and “not okay,” questioning the wisdom of turning an iconic moment of national grief into a viral fashion moment.

The stakes extend beyond celebrity spectacle. The pink suit worn by Jackie Kennedy the day of her husband’s assassination has been described by historians as “one of the most legendary garments in American history.” It was never cleaned after the event and remains under lock in the National Archives, preserved as both relic and artifact.

Fox’s decision to replicate that look, diluted into a high-concept costume, draws attention to how historic trauma is repackaged and consumed in pop culture. The fusion of luxury fashion, celebrity culture and real-world tragedy raises real questions about respect, context and boundary. Is it an act of homage, or a spectacle of sensationalism?

For Fox’s brand, the costume aligns with her longstanding persona: blending high fashion with provocation, daring aesthetic choices with layered messaging. Yet the backlash suggests that even art rooted in commentary is vulnerable when it engages recent trauma or tragedy. The line between reinterpretation and insensitivity becomes razor-thin.

Healing and legacy are at the heart of this moment. Jackie Kennedy’s steer through history, her public composure in the face of personal loss, made her image an enduring symbol. Fox’s costume re-activates that symbol but in a modern vein of digitised shock value, social-media fatigue and costume culture. Some see it as a reinvigoration of conversation about gender, image and power. Others see it as disregard for real suffering.

In the end, the conversation Fox provoked is as much about agency as it is about aesthetics. She presents herself not as someone borrowing a famous look but as someone performing a narrative of resistance. But when public memory intersects with personal branding, the outcome is uncertain.

As critics and supporters continue to weigh in, one constant remains: an outfit is never simply fabric, and a costume is rarely just play. In this case the pink suit stands as a reminder that historical images endure and when they’re re-worn and re-viewed, they carry with them the weight of their origin.