Breaking away from his traditional runway format, Juun.J presented a compact offering along with life-sized photography of each look. At the conclusion of the show, each model — again an evenly distributed cast of men and women — took their place in front of the picture representing their outfit.
An all-white shirt, grown to gown-like proportions, was the first look to appear, worn by a female model. It gave the point of departure of a collection in which poplin was used by the yard, in masculine favorites such as white, gray and pinstripes. The palette barely deviated from there: it was white and a skeleton crew of dark neutrals, save for one pleated dress that appeared in a stark orange-red.
The overarching idea of expansion and contraction hinged on these giant shirts being pulled in — by a belt bag, a pencil skirt, a sweater or slipped into trousers — or being left free. For men, it was cigarette trousers and sweaters used to contain those expanses of crisp shirting. On their female counterparts, pullovers were off-the-shoulder and the look was paired with heels.
Quite often, the shirts were simply left free.
Being less belted and buckled in than previous seasons, the collection came off as less utilitarian, with a zen mien. His famed outerwear was barely present, represented by bomber jackets that could be layered on top of each other, with different messages embroidered along the back — likewise on trenchcoats and flight blousons.
For devotees, there was plenty to appreciate: poplin coveralls, oversized suiting, the aforementioned outerwear. “Life opportunities expand and contract,” proclaimed one of his block-letter slogans. This iteration was the latter in Juun.J’s work: an all-too-quiet outing from this master of volumes.