Models prepare for a dystopian football field staredown, or the queue at the döner shop after Berghain.
Yesterday, Glamcult was backstage at Han Kjøbenhavn’s show during Copenhagen Fashion Week, and things were looking dark. This isn’t your usual CPH fare (read: whimsical, floral, Ganni-core).
The line-up looked like the 4AM queue outside that kebab shop next to Berghain: armored-up, weirdly sexy, and slightly scary. Or maybe like a dystopian football pitch where everyone’s dressed for a ceremonial standoff, except this time the team is not only wearing their shoulder-padded jerseys, but also bark-like boots, rave gear. It’s the moment just before the ball is thrown in the air, and we’re tensely waiting for that whistle to blow.
The models moved like extravagant introverts, hiding themselves in massive silhouettes. Kjøbenhavn’s suburban gladiators are padded, protected, obscured: big boots, bigger shoulders, hoods up, heads down. Important themes seem to be exaggeration while cocooning. The way they’re all clad in sunglasses and have their hands in their pockets feels eerie, like they’re not entirely innocent; perhaps they’ve seen things not meant for this realm. Importantly: they dont want to talk about it.
The styling threads a line between street and ceremony, where bodybuilder bravado clashes with fragility. The collection features banal “Doner House” branding on simple oversized tees, paired with excessive draping and intricate construction – padding twirls up the legs like baroque twines. A matte black football jersey pairs with sculptural gloves. The standout look feels like a raven, face and torso fully covered in synthetic feathers. Padded bombers feel like suburban armor. The only thing missing? A dramatic return of the full bush, because why stop at bark boots when you can go full forest?
Anyhow – in a fashion week still dominated by pretty, playful Scandi minimalism, Han Kjøbenhavn’s ravey darkness is ready for that on-field collision.
Words by Pykel van Latum
Images by Kasper Jernhag
