The challenge of transforming costume design in a way that defies expectations and redefines beloved characters is a story worth exploring—and in the case of the 'Wicked' franchise, it's about pushing creative boundaries while honoring iconic originals. But here's where it gets controversial: shifting away from familiar visuals like Glinda’s signature pink wardrobe or Elphaba’s traditional green look can evoke strong opinions among fans and creators alike. Let's delve into how costume designer Paul Tazewell has navigated these creative choices, what's new, and why some decisions might spark debate.
For context, Paul Tazewell made history last year when he became the first Black individual to win an Oscar in the costume design category. That achievement marked a significant milestone, and for him, it was a feeling of being recognized in a moment he describes as a 'pinch me' experience. Seeing his work resonate deeply with audiences and become part of the vast 'Wizard of Oz' cultural tapestry was transformative for his career—and it added a new chapter to this legendary story.
This year, Tazewell’s talents are front and center again with the release of 'Wicked: For Good.' This sequel continues to follow Elphaba, played by Cynthia Erivo, as she fights to protect animal rights and unmask the Wizard, played by Jeff Goldblum, as a con artist. The film opens with Elphaba sporting a commanding new silhouette—crafted with a coat, trousers, and striking boots that serve as her new signature look. Tazewell explains that the cape she wears in this scene is an evolution of the one from the first 'Wicked,' now grander and more dramatic, reflecting her character’s growth and exile life amidst the forest trolls.
Interestingly, her iconic hat has been enlarged to mirror the one used by the Wicked Witch of the West in the 1939 classic film. Elphaba adopts this accessory as a symbol of her newfound power, strengthened by her broom, creating two core visual elements that define her superhero persona. This subtle but deliberate evolution of her costume signals her transformation from a misunderstood outcast to a formidable activist.
Regarding Glinda, the character famously associated with a pink wardrobe, Tazewell estimates he’s crafted about seven pink dresses per film. However, the most notable departure occurs in part two when Glinda receives a special gift from Madame Morrible, a magical bubble. Instead of sticking with the conventional pink, Tazewell chose a lavender and iridescent blue palette, inspired by Glinda’s original Broadway dress, as a visual nod to her roots. This shift also symbolizes her character’s gradual evolution—from a somewhat naive girl into someone more mature and powerful. The bubble itself is not just a costume piece but a pivotal symbol of her authority and transformation, as she steps inside it to address the citizens of Munchkinland, showcasing her most powerful self.
The film also saw the creation of a wedding gown for Glinda, a piece developed through close collaboration with Ariana Grande to capture Glinda’s emotional state leading up to her marriage with Fiyero, played by Jonathan Bailey. The design was intentionally simplified—featuring bare shoulders and arms—to highlight vulnerability and emotional openness. The gown is crafted from luxurious silk organza and tulle, decorated with delicate spirals of butterflies along the hem and a 25-meter flowing veil adorned with animated gold butterflies. As Glinda walks during the wedding scene, the butterflies seem to come alive, floating around her—a truly magical visual that underscores the fairy-tale quality of the moment.
But perhaps one of the most fascinating changes involves Fiyero. When Elphaba casts a protection spell, Fiyero’s costume undergoes a dramatic transformation from a noble soldier’s attire to a scarecrow-like appearance. Originally, his costume featured rich wool fabric, gold braid, and embroidery inspired by 15th- and 16th-century Hungarian cavalry uniforms. After the spell, the aristocratic elements give way to rougher materials like sackcloth and straw embroidery, visually signaling his transformation into a scarecrow. This shift was not just costume change but a visual storytelling device to depict the spell’s impact and his character’s evolution.
Tazewell’s goal was always to create costumes that feel authentic to the magical world of Oz—yet fresh and original enough to surprise the audience. His designs aim to make the fantastical believable, as if this enchanted world has always existed but has just now been glimpsed anew.
And this is the part most people miss: costume design isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s about storytelling. Every stitch, fabric choice, and accessory carries meaning and character development. Do you agree that shifting away from iconic looks enhances the story, or do you think it risks diluting what made these characters so beloved? Share your thoughts below—are these reimaginations a brilliant evolution or a betrayal of the classics?
