August 19, 2025 |
The first thing you need to know about Haus Nowhere is that it isn’t really a shop. At least, not in the way we’ve come to understand shops. You don’t go there, basket in hand, to pick up a serum and a pair of sunglasses and maybe a slice of cake if you’re lucky. Instead, you walk into a sleeping giant’s head, past apocalyptic furniture and insect kings, into a world where commerce looks a lot like theatre. It’s retail, but make it mythological.
Born in 2021 as the brainchild of Gentle Monster, Haus Nowhere bills itself as “a space that exists nowhere.” Which is both very accurate and very on-brand. “We wanted to break away from the formulaic perceptions of traditional retail,” the team explains. “The goal was to create a future-facing platform that asks what retail should aspire to be.”
Offline shopping, in their eyes, isn’t dying – it’s being reborn. “Physical spaces still hold a unique charm,” they tell me. “They shouldn’t just be about consumption, but about storytelling. About communicating a brand’s philosophy.” The result? Spaces where narrative is built as carefully as the shelving.
Haus Nowhere, Dosan, Seoul
So what exactly is Haus Nowhere? Store? Stage set? Gallery? All of the above – and then some. “We define it as a retail platform,” the team says matter-of-factly. Except it’s a retail platform where you’re just as likely to find animatronic bisons as Nudake’s surrealist desserts.
Technology is embraced, but never for its own sake. “Everything is based on purpose. If tech helps us stimulate or inspire visitors, we’ll use it. If not, we won’t. It has to serve the story.”
And those stories are ambitious. Take Haus Nowhere Shenzhen, the brand’s sprawling three-floor, 6,500-square-metre project inside the upscale MixC World development. Here, the design team dreamt up Insect Kingdom – a fictional 10,000-year-old saga in which insect clans, inspired by the Chinese zodiac, form dynasties, clash with animals and giants by artists old and new, and develop their own mythologies. Think folklore meets speculative fiction, all set in a shopping complex. “We wanted to explore something different from our usual futuristic references,” they explain. “Something closer to ancient fairy tales. We asked ourselves: what if the zodiac animals weren’t animals at all, but insects?”
There are no rules when it comes to inspiration. “Films, animations, novels, music, AI-generated images – anything goes,” the team says. “The only question we ask at the end is: is it new?”
And it’s not just about the visuals. Haus Nowhere also acts as a nexus for IICOMBINED’s brands – Gentle Monster, Tamburins (beauty), Nudake (experimental desserts), Attissu (caps) and the newly launched Nuflaat (tableware). Each has its own identity, but together they function like characters in a shared cinematic universe. “They exist both as individuals and as parts of a greater whole,” the team says. “That shared philosophy of novelty and inspiration binds them.”
Haus Nowhere, Shenzen
Up on the top floor of the Shenzen store, you’ll find brands that reside outside of the IICOMBINED umbrella too. One corner hides Amomento and Open YY, another Rarely Alike, with ENG spinning its own carousel of cult favourites: Misbhv, Anomalies Department, Entire Studios and Jaded London. Keep wandering and you’ll stumble across Shanghai streetwear haunt Doe, concept pit-stop Pocket by B1ock, Chongqing’s sleek SND, a caffeine hit from Flow In, a literary fix at indie darling JZZP, a jungle’s worth of greenery from Oasiz and lifestyle trinkets courtesy of Onheon, making it a lot less shop floor and a lot more cultural theme park.
Haus Nowhere has also had a hand in a number of game-changing collaborations with the likes of ShuShu Tong and German sound system artist and curator Nik Nowak. With Tong, the collective unveiled a dreamy line-up of eleven romantic pyjama sets and six ribbon-tied neck pillows – part boudoir, part fairy tale, entirely irresistible. With Nowak, Haus Nowhere traded satin and ribbons for subwoofers and steel, conjuring up pulsing sculptural soundscapes that felt less like an art installation and more like stepping inside a heartbeat.
Haus Nowhere is changing the game precisely because it refuses to play by the usual rules. One moment it’s conjuring up those frilled pyjamas with ShuShu Tong, the next it’s rattling ribcages with Nowak’s monstrous sound machines – and somehow it all feels part of the same dreamy universe. Forget neat categories: for Haus Nowhere, a pillow can be a sculpture, a sound system can be an outfit and a collaboration is really just an invitation to step inside its world. It’s that fluid, hybrid spirit – equal parts boudoir and bass drop – that makes it feel so defiantly, deliciously new.
Haus Nowhere x Shushu Tong
Of course, retail is still the beating heart. “We are a business, not a museum,” they remind me. “Every concept has to serve the purpose of branding and sales.” Yet the lines between art, commerce and culture blur deliberately. Think Loewe’s craft pavilions, Jacquemus’s immersive pop-ups, Dior’s travelling exhibitions. “It’s a positive trend,” the team says. “For consumers, it means more opportunities to engage with culture in everyday life.”
Cultural dialogue is central, too. Each Haus Nowhere adapts to its host city, collaborating with local artists and brands. “Engagement with our environment is one of our core values,” they explain. “We want the spaces to feel embedded in the cultural fabric of the city.”
The work is deeply cinematic in scope – no surprise, then, that collaborations extend far beyond the fashion sphere. “We’ve worked with set designers, ceramicists, comic book authors, glass artists… anyone who can help bring our imagination to life.” The result is something that feels less like retail and more like stepping into a film – or perhaps an elaborate dream.
Naduke, Haus Nowhere, Shanghai
So where does it all lead? Expansion, first of all. Another Seoul space is on the way, with more cities under review (Haus Nowhere has already set up shop in Seoul, Shanghai and Shenzen). But the long-term ambitions feel broader. “Although Haus Nowhere is technically a retail platform, we don’t want to limit ourselves. It could evolve into films, animations – even a hotel or a restaurant. If it allows us to present something truly new, it’s worth pursuing.”
The name may be “nowhere,” but Haus Nowhere is already everywhere: in fashion, in culture, in the shifting ways we think about the act of buying itself. Shopping, reimagined as story and spectacle with just a touch of strangeness. And perhaps that’s the future of retail – less about things, more about worlds.
Photography courtesy of Haus Nowhere.
Haus Nowhere, Shanghai
