c.2013 New York Times News Service

c.2013 New York Times News Service

What will 2023 look like? Or 2061? If you take your cue from “Her,” Spike Jonze’s cinematic fantasy set in an indeterminate time and place, the future won’t look so very different from the here and now.

In Jonze’s unlikely screen romance between the lovelorn hero played by Joaquin Phoenix and his computer operating system (the disembodied voice of Scarlett Johansson), the wardrobes seem peculiarly current. Save for a few unsettling tweaks — shirts worn one atop the other, an off-kilter color palette of chemically burnt-looking oranges, pinks and greens, and the strangely unsexy high-waist pants worn by most of the men —its sartorial style is as reassuringly familiar as anything that might be picked up at Gap.

“The idea was to create a world that looks a lot like the world we live in,” said Casey Storm, who designed the costumes, “but just different enough to tell you that you are not 100 percent in the present.” To that end, the filmmakers dodged the customary sci-fi clichés — Dr. Evil band-collared uniform jackets, Star Trek unitards, glints of chrome and the like — in favor of a high-function wardrobe that is clearly built for comfort.

That muted vision had a visceral appeal for Humberto Leon, a partner in Opening Ceremony, who collaborated with Jonze to create a line to be introduced in his stores this week, one that echoes the low-key aesthetic of the movie, which opens Dec. 18.

The collection does incorporate a few crafty concessions to Tomorrow World. “Every pocket is meant to perfectly fit a device, a tablet or an iPhone,” Leon said. Other items allow for the passage of the cords and wires typically extending from headphones and other tech totems. But in most ways the line remains the easygoing antithesis of recent ultra-spare, neoprene-imbued, vaguely retro-futuristic runway looks from influential labels like Céline and Calvin Klein.

“It was really important for me to interpret something that didn’t feel costume-y,” Leon said.

Tapered flat-front pants, shirts that appear to be double-layered and T-shirts printed with disorienting images of Los Angeles were all intended to conjure a future that gently creeps up on you; a feeling, he said, “that you are entering a work in progress, a world continually changing and evolving.”

That priority is strikingly in tune with a view expounded by the high priest of cyberpunk, William Gibson. “The future is already here,” Gibson has famously written. “It’s just not very evenly distributed.”