The collab’s temporary retail space reminds us why minimalism and moderation—in dress and demeanor—will never win

For most days since it opened on 4 January, the Louis Vuitton X Murakami Singapore Pop-Up has been rained on. This day was no exception. It drizzled in the morning, but just before noon, when the store opened, it started to pour—cats-and-dogs pour. Images of the Joo Chiat Place shophouse, where the bombastic retail exercise takes place, that have been shared online show a cheerful façade in Doraemon blue under similarly-hued skies. But standing at the intersection of Joo Chiat Place and Everitt Road, and looking at the building, likely built in the 1920s, we saw a three-sided corner trying to beat the grey of the forlorn sky. The teasing blue was at odds with the presence of staffers in off-white and security personnel in black, mingling outside the entrance, giving the impression that a funeral service could be held within. Guests with no appointment had to queue to the right of the store. Despite the rain, there were easily more than two dozens visitors in the line. We were told the wait could take “up to 30 minutes”.
Inside, the tiny space quickly explained the need for the line. Almost everything and every activity can be seen in a glance. The area for the main event was no larger than the hall of a three-room HDB flat. It was painted gleaming white. The crowd size was larger than what is typically allowable in an LV store, which meant taking selfies that included the flashy merchandise would be a challenging endeavour. The retail exercise, in fact, comprised four components: the aforementioned shop; the Cinema, really a small—“cozy”, according to LV—room with a huge screen playing Takashi Murakami’s animated shorts, 2003’s Superflat Monogram Film and 2009’s Superflat First Love, both now remastered; a Care Station, where your old LV X Murakami bags could be rejuvenated (note: some services are chargeable), and the Café, which, as it appeared, was the most popular spot—no exaggeration, it was really tiny, with about five tables than can comfortably seat ten, but the cafe was crowded to every corner, totally packed.
That’s all there is to it: the surprisingly small retail centrestage
The collaborative merchandise are displayed in small alcoves
Most people, we observed, were in the pop-up not to purchase, but to take selfies or have the staffers take photos of those who came in pairs or more. Family photos were shot here too. When we asked a sales chap if we could buy and bring home the products on the day itself, he told us cheerfully, “Not everything can be bought. Only the fragrances and the footwear.” Then he added helpfully: “The bags you have to pre-order.” Which can be pre-ordered? “Which one are you interested in?” We have not decided. “Actually, don’t look at the bags.” Oh, why? “They are all not available for pre-order, accept this one…” He wielded a tablet with the deftness of a magician, swiped on the screen, and showed us an image of a Petite Valise and said: “This one you can pre-order, but it’s pretty expensive, lah (we spied the S$15,000 asking price).” We appreciated his honesty. LV has marked out certain dates and hours for “private events”, which is understood to be occasions for their high-spending customers. It is not unreasonable to assume that they were able to buy whatever their hearts desired.
The Louis Vuitton X Murakami re-issues—or “re-editions—are, to us, tired commercial merchandise. This collaboration first appeared in 2002, when then creative director Marc Jacobs showed the pieces during the 2003 spring/summer collection. It is not clear what LV’s strategy is, kicking off 2025 with the “20th anniversary” of a collab in it’s 22nd year. Two decades ago, the bags with the colourful monogram and other cutesy flora and creatures of the Murakami universe—as Financial Times recently noted, “the It bags of the 2000s”—were perhaps fascinating, but with the collab never quite erased from public consciousness and the presence of dupes till now, their rebirth is arousing no real fascination. And what does it truly say about LV that midway through the 2020s, they are so short on creativity that a collab of the past has to be brought back? Or does the slowdown in the luxury business necessitate another money-making grab, reported to amount to US$300 million in just the collab’s first year?

The quietest space is the Care Station—about the size of a toilet
Standing-room only café at the rear of the pop-up
There is admittedly nothing we wanted from the collaboration. We visited the pop-up to experience what we thought would be an event of pop-cultural significance. But the nothingness of the event meant disappointment quickly set in. We thought we’d have a cup of coffee before we leave. But that turned out to be even more a blow on expectations. To go to the café, you’d have to join a queue (another!). But you couldn’t really stand in line, undisturbed. There was a wall next to the entrance with the LV logo reimagined by Mr Murakami on it, which attracted possibly every visitor and prompted them to whip out their smartphone to put the built-in camera to good use. A guy was heard telling his female companion, “forget it. Let’s go. I would not even queue for chicken rice, I am not queueing for kopi.” Assuming you have more patience than the chap, you would be finally allowed to enter a totally pink space that served only coffee (no pastries, as had been reported). The black brew was S$12.50 a (paper) cup. Seriously.
We have such a weak fashion calendar here that we’d go to any fashion event for a photo op. Louis Vuitton knows that and happily offers a scale-down version of their event of the year (as the only city in Southeast Asia to get one, it’s tiny compared to, say, the Tokyo pop-up on Sibuya’s Cat Street), and we lap it up. The real eye-opener was what took place in the line outside. Until this day, we had never joined a queue at an LV store, here or anywhere in the world, so it was quite the experience. People were yakking audibly away as if they were at a vegetable wholesale market. The exterior wall along the pavement was wallpapered with the colourful LV monogram, and most felt the need to use it as a glamorous photo backdrop. One woman took out two different phones to selfie herself and her companion and her one prized possession, saying, “wait, wait, have to take with my LV bag.” A family of five from Germany holidaying here decided to brave the rain to come “to have a look because all the attractions that we could go to, we went.” LV knows that, too.
Louis Vuitton X Murakami Singapore Pop-Up at 72 Joo Chiat Place ends on 19 January. Photos: Chin Boh Kay


