Berlin Doesn’t Ask for Permission
On the stark streets of Berlin, there’s an art to being unnoticed yet recognisable – or noticed yet unrecognisable. The passing of this year’s Berlin Fashion Week once again reminded us that conscious anarchism can loom in the shadow of high fashion, occasionally revolutionising it.
People arrived like declarations. Some in sculptural silhouettes, others in dishevelled layers that looked accidental but weren’t. Outfits clashed: East and West, sharp and soft, mood and intention. Sheer over leather. Tailoring dragged through the dirt. Boots that looked ready to start a small riot.
In a city where loud is the norm, quiet held its own special kind of power. Clean cuts in neutral tones, a scarf tied just right: a treat for those who were looking. Their power lay in calm confidence, in looks that didn’t scream for attention but refused to be ignored.
No matter where your eyes fell, there was an unspoken agreement among the people, a perfectly curated palette that only those in the know understood how to follow. It was a curated chaos that couldn’t be planned. Art school energy met quiet rebellion. Maximalists brushed past minimalists like ships in a sea of mismatched intention.
The runway was alive and well, but the power of Berlin does not lie in its organisation. Here, fashion doesn’t play by the rules. It mutates, resists, reclaims. And it never asks for permission.
