My Love is Alien

This story is my tribute to Split Enz—the weirdest, most visually fearless band ever to emerge from Australasia. I grew up watching them in the ’70s and ’80s, hypnotized by their painted faces, angular suits, and art-school theatricality. They weren’t just incredible musicians; they were performance artists, turning every stage into a surrealist playground. For Pan & The Dream, that early imprint came roaring back. Thom Browne’s immaculate sculptural tailoring and graphic precision became the perfect contemporary echo of the band’s eccentric wardrobe—a kind of modern haute-couture hallucination of the Split Enz universe. So the characters here are not models but avatars: high-hair misfits, monochrome jesters, sharp-shouldered dreamers caught between fashion and fever dream. The checkerboard sets, exaggerated silhouettes, and kabuki-like faces nod to the band’s own bold visual language—part cabaret, part new-wave delirium.