The Weather (And Fashion) Report From Copenhagen-------
When Helena Christensen says go, you go—even, as it turns out, if it happens to be pouring rain. That’s how it went at the so-called “World’s Greatest Catwalk” that closed out Copenhagen fashion week on Saturday. Organizers laid down literally a mile of pink carpet in the city center, and Helena Christensen issued the sendoff to the more than 200 catwalkers, from infants (cradled in mom’s arms) to Denmark’s leading elderly model, all of whom hoofed it through town in looks put together by local merchants.
Rain, as it turned out, was one of the week’s overriding themes. A storm raged during Stine Goya’s show, where models glided through rooms decorated with Victorian-style installations of antique furniture and massive floral arrangements. At Wood Wood (above), the designers actually hosed down their models before sending them into the spotlight at the Den Frie contemporary art museum; with army jackets, shirtdresses, and khakis clinging to their bodies underneath backpacks, they looked like kids caught in a thunderstorm on the way home from school. On the other hand, mother nature luckily held the rain from Henrik Vibskov’s outdoor show at a park known locally as a hook-up spot (despite the swim goggles Vibskov accessorized his looks with, and the two enormous wood boats that burly men pushed into the center of the catwalk for the finale).
But rain or no rain, Copenhagen is about fun more than overly serious, capital-F fashion. Although one of the country’s most established names in womenswear, Margit Bradt (below), showed a strong collection playing on a safari theme (one picked up by several other designers as well), Soulland designer Silas Adler freely admitted that much of the best Danish style is “too basic to put on a catwalk” in Milan or Paris. (Though Adler, whose label grew out of a modest T-shirt project he started with skater friends, did throw some suits into the mix for the first time, below.) The real action in Denmark is at street-level, without the pomp and circumstance that can attend other European fashion weeks. Take Soulland’s after-party, which went down, sans formal invites, at a dive bar called Andy’s—one that the owner had to be roused from a stupor to open that night.
Margit Brandt, Spring 2011.
Soulland, Spring 2011.