Unquiet
Things

Robert Wun’s Fall 2025 couture collection felt like stumbling into someone else’s fever dream about getting dressed for a funeral that might also be a wedding that might also be a fundraising gala for surrealists in a parallel universe. In the pitch-black Théâtre du Châtelet, models drifted out like sleepwalkers draped in the remnants of interrupted morning rituals—quilted coverlets stained with phantom blood as if breakfast in bed had been a cannibalistic affair, handbags sporting formal wear, prosthetic limbs offering assistance where none was needed, one model adorned with what looked like a high-end Korean face mask infused with something like fermented eel placenta and pickled starfish extract and imprinted with Dr. Who’s Lady Cassandra.

Wun turned the act of getting dressed into a gothic haunted house attraction complete with the uncanny body horror of disembodied hands and shadow people adjusting hemlines and smoothing imaginary wrinkles, while veils were held up by tiny figures perched on heads like Ralph Wiggum chirping, “I’m helping!”

It was like watching someone get ready for prom or the Kentucky Derby in an avant-garde horror film directed by Klaus Nomi and the Brothers Quay—otherworldly elegance and operatic theatricality mixed with stop-motion surrealism and decaying beauty.

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