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Robert Wun called his couture collection “Valor: The Desire to Create, and the Courage to Carry On.” The title sounds like it might involve heroic sacrifice, or at the very least existential angst. The show took place at the Lido, the legendary cabaret known for burlesque, lavish French dinners, and champagne à go-go. Naturally, one might expect feathers, sequins, and a little Moulin Rouge chaos. Actually, Wun had other priorities.
“I needed a space big enough for videos of a thunderstorm,” he explained calmly backstage, as if this were the most obvious requirement in the world. He loves thunderstorms. In Hong Kong, where he’s from, typhoons are regular guests, so a little thunder is basically background noise. His idea of fun is staying indoors, watching the storm rage outside: essentially Netflix, but with better sound design.
Beyond his meteorological enthusiasm, the collection explored the emotional rollercoaster of creation itself, unfolding as a three-act story. The opening chapter, “Library,” represented the purest form of dreams, those born quietly between the pages of books, in strict black and white. To find inspiration, Wun revisited his old fashion school sketchbooks, proving that homework can pay off, sooner or later. The result was a series of sculpted monochrome silhouettes: unusually restrained by Wun’s dramatic standards, with precise contours, tightly fitted bodices, huge rounded bolero shoulders, and long, flared skirts.
The standout look was a gigantic circular gown entirely encrusted with micro glass beads. The piece weighed a casual 40 kilos, roughly the size of a small adult human. The model carried it with serene indifference, as if a wearable dumbbell were no big deal at all. Couture, after all, is about courage. And apparently, strong core muscles.
The second act was titled “Luxury: Confrontation of Reality,” which, translated from couture-speak, means: you dream of becoming a designer, then promptly run face-first into a very expensive wall. This is the moment when ideals meet invoices, and your creative fantasies are stress-tested by the world of luxury, where success is glittering, elusive, and rather traumatic.
Here, Wun tackled the notion of the priceless object, and the uncomfortable question that follows: who decides what something is worth, and why does it cost more than a small apartment? On the runway, this translated into a parade of outlandish creatures wearing molded bodices resembling high-jewelry display stands, the kind usually guarded by alarms and intimidating sales associates. Diamond necklaces gleamed ominously, while face masks entirely encrusted in crystals erased any remaining trace of human identity, because nothing says luxury quite like anonymity wrapped in diamonds.
Pointy-breasted corsets, sharp and colored in bright hues, sat atop draped skirts with layered trains that trailed behind like dramatic afterthoughts.
The third and final act was titled “Valor,” and this was where Wun went into full heroic mode. According to him, it celebrated the sheer determination of creators, those usually hidden behind the curtains, fighting battles both external and deeply internal, armed with nothing but persistence, obsession, and very good tailoring. Here, weapons became metaphors, because apparently the bravest act of all is not slaying dragons, but continuing to create fashion when the world keeps asking you: why?
Enter an actual suit of gleaming silver armor, complete with a sword, slightly alarming, carried across the stage by an ominous being who treated this death-by-metal situation with utter aplomb. Just another day at couture, really. A figure appeared in a bodysuit printed like a black-and-white anatomical sketch of a naked body, one that was, it must be noted, impressively muscular. Against a backdrop of flashing lightning bolts, the show drew to a close with a veiled creature wearing an enormous gown entirely sequined in thunderstorm shades. It crossed the stage slowly, then vanished into darkness, because no couture finale is complete without the feeling that something mythological has just left the room.
Wun explained that the collection traced three emotional stages: to be inspired, to be desired, and finally, to summon the courage to move forward. In a world that frequently questions whether couture still reflects who we are, he argued that it survives precisely because it reflects who we wish to be. Couture, in his view, is a dream, along with the ability to dream, and the stubborn determination to keep doing so. All of it exists thanks to the creator’s courage, and that pure, slightly unhinged impulse to create anyway.
In other words: armor on, storm raging, dreams intact. Curtain.
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