Something subtle like a shiver of fear took the spectators’ throats, already filled with adrenaline pearls.

Jun Takahashi’s vampire court left its castles plunged into the Scottish moor, to invade the rococo setting of Salle Wagram, Paris, with visions of decadent kings and queens showcasing what we could call a royal street-style. The pale demons came into the room walking slowly, with a kind of creepy elegance in the way of carrying themselves, as night walkers driven by a sort of wicked force. Projecting their tremble shadows into the sea of flaming light, they stared at the surrounding darkness through their red contact lenses. Fur stoles, embellished capes and scarves weaved in and out the deconstructed outerwear pieces wrapped their bodies into an opulent obstructive grasp, while the flow of silk floating cloaks relieved a certain romantic energy. The splendor of baronial uniforms sashed with striped silks and gold brooches conveyed the idea of a past glory, translated into the underground language of patchwork tartans and motorcycle jackets. Maharajas-like silk turbans suddenly replaced the elaborated crowns of tiny braids, pushing the heritage of this witched empire to East, towards the great China. In the nursery of an Indian princess porcelain dolls gracefully popped out an old music box. Their dresses are like Chinese vases decked with small UFO and blue flowers, holding in their hands electronic apples as cybernetics Snow Whites. A red rain closed UNDERCOVER’s magic carousel, remembering that fashion shows can be spectacles of a delicate beauty.

The moon reborn creating a flow of silent wonder.