Unlocking Scandi Style Secrets from Copenhagen Fashion Week That Could Transform Your Wardrobe and Wellness Routine!
What exactly is Scandi girl style? Is it the no-nonsense, utility-driven minimalism with sharp lines and rugged kicks? Or maybe it’s the bold, personality-packed patterns and free-spirited shapes? Honestly, I’m still scratching my head after walking into Copenhagen Spring 2026 Fashion Week for the first time, hoping to pin down this elusive identity. Instead, I found something way more intriguing—a shared mindset rather than a cookie-cutter look. It’s like peeling an onion, layer by imperfect layer, where every fold reveals a quiet strength and effortless elegance wrapped in fabric. That unexpected unity in diversity? Now that’s a heavyweight lesson in style—reminding us that sometimes, it’s the approach, not the outfit, that packs the real punch.
There’s a lot of talk around Scandi girl style, but I’ve never been exactly sure what it is. On one hand, you could argue a certain breed of utility-fueled minimalism with simple, sculpted shapes and gorp-y footwear. On the other, you could claim a trend-setting breed of personality-driven patterns and effusive silhouettes. I went into Copenhagen Spring 2026 Fashion Week, my first time in attendance, looking to define this identity, but instead I found more of a unity in approach than expression—and I had to peel back a few layers to find it.
Amidst a parade of sweet, wearable separates at Skall Studio’s Spring 2026 show, one model came down the runway wearing not one, not two, but three shirts. The first layer was a greenish-greyish blue button-down. The next was a striped shirt. The third, yet another striped shirt, was tied haphazardly around her waist. The sleeve cuffs of each piled-on shirt were rolled at different lengths, and collars looked like stacked pieces of paper.
Through their collection, designers and sisters Julie and Marie Skall hoped to “evoke the spirit of the off-duty dancer—one who dresses with presence, not performance. There’s an intimacy and quiet strength in the way dancers dress when they’re not on stage—often in layers, often undone—with an elegance that feels entirely unforced,” the designers explained via email. So, many looks featured various states of layering—sweaters or scarves tied at waists, pants beneath dresses, T-shirts over T-shirts.
Maria Heilmanns, designer of the label Aiyu, also heaped fabric upon fabric for her spring collection. It would be reductive to say that Heilmanns creates elevated basics, a term so hackneyed today that it’s lost most of its meaning. But she does make very wearable pieces with utility and craftsmanship at their core, letting the composition of material shine over flashy gimmicks. In folding those simple pieces together, whether it was two shirt dresses worn over one another, or a tank over a long-sleeved shirt of the same knit in another, she created a new texture for what would otherwise be quite minimal outfits.
“Every season, we create building blocks designed to be layered and combined in countless ways, creating a feeling of renewal. Our layered styling is a celebration,” she continues, “a natural embrace that feels like a hug.” So many shirttails hung from beneath one T-shirt hem, it felt like a swaddling of fabric.
If models were enveloped in swaths of material at many of the week’s collections, Cecilie Bahnsen made us consider the act of disrobing at her 10th anniversary show, where sheer sheaths revealed the bodies beneath in sequin-embellished briefs. As the models passed, they turned to reveal Banhsen’s signature plumed dresses tacked to the backs of the sheer ones. It looked as if the wearer was caught in the act of undress, the original garment hanging behind like a cape. The Danish designer proved it’s hard to shed your clothes and, subsequently, the memories they hold.
Taus, who presented their Spring Summer 2026 collection under CPHFW’s New Talent Ones to Watch program, let the fabric of an upcycled nightgown slip off the model’s shoulder to reveal a lace bra (the dress comes like this; it wasn’t just a styling trick). “We talked a lot about the literal act of dressing when working on the collection and wanted to portray that moment of undressing in a garment,” says co-founder Juho Lehiö. You’re immediately drawn to consider what’s underneath, because if you don’t think about what’s underneath, you might misunderstand.
This was the premise of their larger collection: exploring the lives of misunderstood women from the past, like Sinead O’Connor. Another misunderstood reference? “Little Edie of Grey Gardens and her way of using fabrics tied in a knot as a skirt,” continues Lehiö. That idea came through in the many layers of their collection, deconstructing what makes clothing clothing. Why isn’t this just a piece of fabric?
CPHFW was founded on the principle of sustainability. In order to participate, brands must adhere to strict environmental and social standards requirements, spanning material choice to working conditions, to participate. Consciousness of what we wear goes hand in hand with the longevity of a garment. And many of the strongest collections this week, the designers behind them emphasizing a slow way of making and a deeper connection to clothing itself in their brand ethos, put fabric at the forefront in some way. And in doing so, these designers made us consider what it means to wear something—and then discard it later on.
Nowhere were those tendencies more evident than at Stem, another of CPHFW’s Ones to Watch, who titled its fourth collection “Over and Under and Over and Under and Over and Under.” Inspired by the repetitive motion of basket weaving, founder Sarah Brunnhuber created garments whose construction was evident in exaggerated, unraveling weaves of oversized thread. In one bulbous, gathered dress, you have to wonder where the thread stops and the cloth begins. (Danish brand Mkdt exhibited a similar basket weave design, exaggerated with strips of fabric instead of thread.)
“This collection started with me using scraps from the studio to weave a basket,” says Brunnhuber. “In the process, I recognized that it represented weaving at a truly tangible scale. At its most elemental, it’s over and under, over and under, over and under.” In the larger journey towards sustainability, it’s good to remember that all clothes start here, thread moving up and down, in and out, by the grace of someone’s hand.
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