News__ Copenhagen Fashion Week III
Maia Wojcik, NYC-based DJ, Brand and Fashion/Design Talent Scout, takes us to Copenhagen Fashion Week in a three part diary. In this edition, Bryan Boy, blondes, the impossible-to-get-in-to Henrik Visbkov show (and afterparty), and more blondes.
By yours truly, forever and always: Maia Wojcik
FRIDAY, 5 AUGUST:
Ahh, Friday. The Final Day of CPH Fashion Week. My first show of the day was at 10am, and it was Hugo Boss. I made it just in time.
Read more Diary: Copenhagen Fashion Week III below.
Did I mention everyone is blonde?
After Hugo Boss I had a little free time, so I did what any fashion obsessed tourist would do--I shopped. And damn it, I shopped hard. I found an amazing store called Pede & Stoffer, where I picked up some men’s inspired flats with zippers, by Won Hundred. U lykke? (Scandinavian humor.)
Always proud to be an American. Please note the shelves packed with Doritos and Fritos.
It was the last night of CPH Fashion week, and the biggest show of all, Henrik Vibskov, was at 10pm. But before that, and also exciting, we had Minimarket at the Royal Danish Academy of Music. The crowd was looking fresh to death. This is JP, known as Mister Pretender and that’s me! Remember, taking an outfit pic during fashion week is no laughing matter.
Here are two boys from clothing brand Le Hype, and their friend in the middle, all looking fly.
Two friends I made from Bast Magazine.
The one, the only, Bryanboy! This day was all about a hair story.
A couple of pictures from the Minimarket show.
After the show. Love her shoes and socks.
A suede jacket with fringe worn well. Not an easy look to pull off. I also enjoy her hand stockings.
This “taxa” driver almost killed me on the way home! If you see this man, run in the other direction!
At last, it was time for the grand finale--Henrik! I decided the Henrik Vibskov show is the “Alexander Wang After Party” of Copenhagen Fashion Week. There is an intensity in the air, a mob mentality, a sense of desperation. It’s the climax of the entire week, and people will do anything to get in. They will climb through bushes, scale fences, and crush each other to be there. After all, Henrik Vibskov is the King of Copenhagen, and if you’re not there, well, you probably. Don't. Exist.
Making my way, centimeter by centimeter to the entrance, there was a moment when I thought to myself, “If I die in a stampede in the name of Henrik, at least it would be a poetic ending to my hearty magazine photo diary.” I tried to snap a picture at that moment, when I was sandwiched between a 6 ft tall blonde model and a chain link fence with shrubs poking out, gouging me in the eyes. It could’ve possibly been the last picture I would ever take, but I couldn’t move my arm in order to reach my phone, so that was that.
Similar to the A-Wang A.P., once you do get in, you experience a feeling of euphoria that is undoubtedly greater than the party or event itself could ever evoke on its own. On top of that, I was greeted by a tall blonde with a tray of tall boys, I felt utterly exhilarated just to be alive.
Henrik’s show, always one for theatrics and spectacles, did not disappoint. His team created a four-walled rotating structure, with doors that stood in place while the walls rotated through them. The models had to not only walk down the runway, but walk through four doors and rotating walls before walking back to exit. Opening and closing doors! Rotating walls! What difficult and thrilling challenge for a model, right?!
After the show, I was led across the street to the secret after party location, where they were blasting “Where the Party at,” by Jagged Edge ft. Nelly and shit started hitting the fan.
This pic was not photoshopped.
And finally, there I am, looking rightfully embarrassed that I just asked my friend Maja to take a solo shot of me, so that I had something to close out the diary.
It’s 3am and time for bed. Goodbye Copenhagen. I don’t like to see you go, but baby I sure love to watch you walk away! Tak for reading, hej hej!