Two days ahead of the Lu’u Dan showroom visit, I was walking down rue Saint Martin when I spotted founder and designer, Hung La, seated at a table outside playing mahjong—his well-acknowledged pastime. Later that afternoon, I began seeing Lu’u Dan campaign posters in different parts of the city, featuring two portraits from some underworld. Finally arriving at our official appointment, I was no longer surprised to find La back outside, this time playing with his models, whom he introduced as, “little gangsters—should I call you that?”
All these interactions provided a prelude for the latest designs, which La revealed with a disclaimer. “We have been on such a positive arc; I wanted a tinge of darkness this season. I felt kind of alone in my struggle and journey. It’s an uphill battle all the time, trying to push something different,” he said, adding descriptions such as angst and alienation.
The collection’s central idea goes back to his style as a fashion student in Antwerp, deliberately “digging into something disheveled, a little grimy” assembled from ripped-up and salvaged garments. Cue his little gangsters, one of them outfitted in nylon wadded “sleeping bag” pants with tearaway snaps worn over a long track jacket tied with a rubber tube belt. All covered up, yet alluding to a new strain of fetish spotted elsewhere this week.
It’s not often you hear a muse described as “a vagrant, [someone who] loves Asian gore films, he is probably homeless…” But let’s be clear that La’s vision rests on a strong brand foundation of respect and representation towards Asian men. His two-meter jeans that bunch tightly on the leg are hardly the stuff of Derelicte. “I feel like fashion can be really powerful when it connects with the outsider and that’s what I wanted to touch on,” he explained.
The collection also stood out for its wildly saturated, apocalyptic prints—a combination of hand-drawn and AI that nods to film posters, animation, street graphics and more. Spot the tribe of raging goblins! The total look in nylon had an extreme, music video vibe. “I think people are playing it safe right now,” La said. “I wanted to dig into creativity.”
After the Yohji show, I passed by one last time for the showroom cocktail. La was wearing a varnished leather coat and extra-wide pants that evidenced his years at Balenciaga and Celine. He looked perfect—and perfectly aligned with the brand’s Instagram bio, “The Sheisty Asian Dude in all of Us” (their words, not mine). “The responsibilities of a creative director and the person, it’s all one—I have to represent the brand, wear the clothes.” Contradictory as it seems, this grimy angst has woken up a new and exciting side of Lu’u Dan.