JUN TAKAHASHI | UNDERCOVER

Interview  Filep Motwary

At the dawn of the 20th century, European and American fashion drew profound inspiration from the Far East, with garments such as the Japanese kimono serving as a muse for designs that embraced freedom of movement, elegantly draped the body, and subtly celebrated sensuality. Between the 1950s and 1960s, the structural essence of the kimono inspired “architectural” garments, propelling designers like Cristóbal Balenciaga into the fashion spotlight.

The radical Japanese creators Yohji Yamamoto, Rei Kawakubo, Hanae Mori, and Issey Miyake—who emerged on the Parisian scene in the late 1970s—each uniquely advanced the phenomenon of Japonism, a cultural wave that had previously influenced the Impressionist art movement in the early 19th century. Within the realm of fashion, Japonism ushered in undeniable new aesthetic impulses, reflecting the evolution of Eastern sartorial traditions and their Western appropriation as a liberating medium for gender expression, cultural expansion, and the dissolution of restrictive trends.

Jun Takahashi, a Tokyo-born designer who launched his career in 1990 after graduating from Bunka Fashion College, charted an entirely distinct course from his predecessors simply by doing the reverse. Still a student, he honed in on his own era, founding the brand Undercover—an enduring emblem of bold, street- and punk-inspired fashion that successfully bridged the gap between mainstream and underground cultures. His creative vision integrates diverse forms of artistic expression, featuring collaborations with luminaries such as Markus Åkesson, Cindy Sherman, Michaël Borremans, among others, whom he weaves into his collections in inventive ways.

Once the frontman of the Tokyo Sex Pistols—performing covers of the iconic British punk band—and inspired by the recently departed Vivienne Westwood, Takahashi is now a father of two and a globally influential designer known for his nonconformist aesthetic. Last October, after a two-year hiatus from Fashion Week, he returned to Paris unveiling perhaps his most sensitive collection to date. I say “perhaps,” because every audience leaves profoundly moved by his presentations. The show, held in the packed cathedral on Avenue Georges V, balanced delicately between propriety and rebellion—an enduring formula for Undercover’s success, rooted in contrasts that coalesce into a singular entity.

That afternoon, while awaiting the PR signal to enter backstage, chaos reigned. Stepping inside just thirty minutes before the show, I found the models—each a striking beauty—almost ready, adorned in garments that radiated a spectrum of emotions, including Jun’s yearning to reconnect with Paris. Their eyes sparkled with “frozen tears” tracing down their cheeks, while their hair, styled in two braids that from afar resembled horns, gleamed with brilliantine. The collection featured suits, dresses, and casual outerwear crafted from gabardine, crêpe de Chine, silk georgette, and cotton—each piece seemingly “scarred” by a razor-sharp blade. Some garments bore printed messages like “Love,” “Dream,” “Angel,” and “Sweet.” The quartet of suits in hues of gray, red, lime, and brown that opened the show featured cuts finished with white Chantilly lace and draped details that revealed bare skin. Black, red, and white roses adorned shoulders, busts, lapels, and belts.

With only a brief window of time, I endeavored to photograph as many looks as possible. They were all magical! I thought these could belong to another house—perhaps Chanel—and resolved to tell Jun as much. For now, I bid him farewell, confirming our appointment the next morning at his hotel. Upon arrival, I was informed he was out for a run. I was struck by his continued commitment to habits cultivated fifteen years ago, when he routinely ran 10 to 15 kilometers a day—an ever-increasing distance, as he once confided. When he returned, I warmly congratulated him on the prior day’s triumph. His collection was rightfully lauded by both audience and press, and he seemed genuinely pleased.

“So, what did we see yesterday?” I ask him.
“The starting point for this collection was my desire to create everyday clothing with an unexpected twist,” he tells me. “This time, the defining features are sharp cuts and multiple ways to wear the garments. This approach may once again evoke a punk spirit, yet it also exudes effortless elegance — clothes designed to be worn from morning till night. I wouldn’t say it’s something entirely new; this is the true essence of my work, which has remained consistent for over two decades.”

Indeed, what has defined the Undercover aesthetic from the very beginning is its ambiguity. Perhaps because Takahashi founded his brand just as Japan’s economic bubble was about to burst, his creations revealed, beyond boldness and inventiveness, a sense of precarity. In the uncertain climate we still experience today, this blend of confidence, fragility, and humor feels profoundly relevant.

I ask him about his evolution from 1990 until now.
“I never saw my development purely through the lens of Tokyo. I showcased my work in Paris, convinced that was its natural home,” he responds. “It was there I also realized something crucial: the absence of sexuality and refinement in the clothes I presented in my country. This forced me to redefine my identity, working diligently. I became more receptive to influences to create new designs that eventually became the foundation of my evolution. It was something I had to do to move forward — not just in my career, but in my life. Regarding our clientele, I can say it is now steady, especially among men who buy our clothes with the same enthusiasm, unlike women, with whom our relationship continues to evolve. Since we began showing in Paris, the women’s collection has matured, becoming a luxury category, thus even more desirable to those who can acquire it. The differences from the beginning of this journey are more than apparent,” he believes.

Speaking of image as a fundamental facet of human existence, I ask him to clarify the distinction between “Japanese” and “European” elegance and what it means to him.
“Japanese people don’t usually go out dressed in elegant clothes,” he explains. “To my eyes, Japanese fashion is somewhat ‘messy.’ So when I talk about elegance, I separate it into two types: one that arises from simplicity and one that derives from choices combined with the individual’s personality. The secret to my own elegance, the one I create as Jun, lies in blending elegant and inelegant elements — if that makes sense.”

Returning to his current collection, I notice that some proposals for the coming summer include oversized T-shirts, reminiscent of his connection with sneaker geeks and the genius behind the brand A Bathing Ape, the fellow Japanese NIGO®. Together, Jun and NIGO® created the legendary Nowhere in Tokyo — the boutique launched in 1993 that became the first showcase for their talents. Before me is a photo of the effortless Nowhere storefront, which two decades later once again serves as a starting point for the second wave of Japanese fashion’s global influence. It’s as moving as a candid youth photo of Jun in London, hair bleached, making faces at the camera.

Indeed, the term “punk” is embedded in Undercover’s philosophy, but alone it’s limiting compared to the breadth of Takahashi’s darkly enchanting, revolutionary, and often strange imagination.
“Since childhood, I have been inspired by punk culture and things that oppose the establishment,” he admits. “I want to believe that’s evident in my creations. Designing clothes is the source from which I draw energy for my existence. It’s the only thing I can do, regardless of circumstances. Therefore, everything I present reflects the purpose I was born for. I’m not interested in mass-produced ‘urban’ fashion. For me, the definition of ‘street’ is the power and freshness of youth — city skaters and young people dancing in clubs until dawn. From them, I draw inspiration and always will.”

Listening to him, I recall his first runway collection in 1994, where he reinterpreted basics into distinctive elements that, through layering, culminated in surreal silhouettes with haute couture outlines. Over the years, Undercover collections evolved, leaving behind their initial obsessions to explore other imaginative expressions of femininity and savoir-faire. Like Rei Kawakubo and Junya Watanabe, Takahashi’s classical path to garment creation transformed, culminating in genuinely contemporary results. Following his brand’s trajectory reveals the cinematic scope of his work, with recurring motifs explored through changing eras.

I met Jun many years ago in Paris. I immediately sensed a connection — two people engaged in a continuous creative quest, trying to define the intangible, the emotional, and spiritual fulfillment through material form. I still remember that at the turn of the 2000s, in a gallery in Saint-Germain, Takahashi exhibited a collection of dolls he designed and hand-stitched, soon known as Grace Dolls. It was never entirely clear whether these fascinating and somewhat eerie beings were hostile or friendly — beyond belonging to a secret organization called “Gila.”

Inspired by these, I ask him about the human body — a question I pose to all designers — because I’m intrigued by their perceptions of it. Why do we keep trying to redefine it through the centuries?
“If indeed there is a new type of human body, I am very interested in designing clothes for it,” he tells me. “As you know, Grace dolls have four arms, and their bodies are very different from ours. I enjoy making them and imagining clothes for them; it’s fun for me. The truth is, however, that there is no body type I consider ideal when designing. Because if what I create ignores the X body, much of it will end up in the trash. I want my clothes to be practical and realistic.”

Before I say goodbye, I ask him about the importance of being romantic.
“In my case, I think it has to do with my timidity. I wish I were much bolder,” he reveals. “I am far from being optimistic. Romance, at the end of the day, is how I find my balance in this unbalanced world. For me, romance is the clothes I make, and within them lies the balance I need to carry on.”