Standing Room Only: My First Fashion Week & the Art of Just Showing Up
A firsthand look at Copenhagen Fashion Week—how I barely got in, who actually sits front row, and why this city is about to take over the fashion calendar.
If there’s one thing I learned from my first Copenhagen Fashion Week, it’s that getting in is an extreme sport.
You don’t just show up and hope for the best. You apply, you wait, you refresh your inbox like it’s a full-time job. I applied to 30 shows and got invited to exactly one—a small brand. The bigger brands? Not a chance. If you’re not press, a buyer, or someone with an Instagram following that suggests you influence people’s credit card decisions, you’re not on the list.
Meanwhile, I spent weeks spiraling about what to wear. Copenhagen style is this impossible balance of looking like you put no effort in while also looking effortlessly cool. Minimal but interesting. Expensive but not flashy. A look that says I belong here without trying too hard. Which meant I spent entirely too much time panicking over whether I needed to buy something new before remembering that literally no one was going to be looking at me.
Where the Cool People Are
My first official event was the J.Lindeberg x Euroman event. Euroman’s Editor-in-Chief and J.Lindeberg’s Creative Director were in conversation, and the crowd? Peak Copenhagen Fashion Week energy. Everyone was either in perfect tailoring or had mastered the art of “I just threw this on” but somehow it’s all perfectly proportioned and probably designer.”
Fashion events have this unspoken rhythm—people moving through the space, catching up, slipping into conversations that have clearly been happening long before tonight. I hovered in the background, observing, trying to decode the social hierarchy. The people who walk in and immediately have someone to greet? Insiders. The ones scanning the room, looking for the one person they kind of know? Luckily I had my friend from work to go with me so I didn’t look completely awkward.
From there, I went to Soho House, where things got louder, darker, and felt way more like an actual party. People settled into corners, networking but in a casual, let’s-get-a-drink way. It felt less like a fashion event and more like a gathering of influencers or people who only wanted to talk to influencers. I didn’t walk to one person there, but that’s probably partly my own fault for being shy.
I definitely felt out of my element. I got in trouble for taking a video lol
My One and Only Show
The next day was my first-ever fashion show - a small Finnish brand, Rolf Ekroth.
Copenhagen Fashion Week has this mix of established names and emerging designers, but it’s also unique because it actually prioritizes sustainability. Unlike other fashion weeks, brands have to meet sustainability criteria to be on the official schedule. It’s something that’s setting it apart from the “Big Four” (Paris, Milan, London, New York) and, honestly, is going to turn it into a major fashion week soon. The shift is already happening—more international editors are showing up, bigger models are getting cast, and the industry is paying attention.
The thing is, Copenhagen feels different than the other major fashion weeks. Paris, Milan, London, and New York operate on exclusivity—ultra-VIP guest lists, massive productions, and a clear sense of hierarchy. The whole thing is polished, perfected, almost impossible to penetrate unless you’re part of it already.
Copenhagen? It still feels accessible. Not easy to get into, but not impossible either. The industry is obviously here—the buyers, the editors, the big-name stylists—but the energy is different. It’s less about celebrity front rows and more about the clothes. Less about status and more about innovation.
Unless you have a front-row seat (and I very much did not), you have to show up early. No assigned standing spots, just a free-for-all where you try to find the best view without being in the way. Who gets the front row? The power players—editors, major buyers, stylists, and the select few influencers who actually move the needle in fashion. Watching them take their seats was its own show.
Somehow, I ended up standing right behind the Editor-in-Chief of Vogue Scandinavia, her assistant, and Julia Gilhart (a fashion industry veteran from New York). Which meant that while I wasn’t sitting, I was still in a prime spot to see everything unfold—including their reactions. They barely moved, watching intently, occasionally whispering notes to each other, posting to their stories.
Rolf Ekroth’s collection was futuristic but nostalgic, technical but soft. The kind of pieces that feel conceptual but still wearable. Scandinavian fashion has this way of making things look effortless, and this was no exception. But what really stood out was the strategy behind it. Unlike the big houses that thrive on exclusivity, Rolf Ekroth made the show accessible. No VIP-only guest list, no ultra-guarded doors—just a packed room, standing shoulder to shoulder, experiencing it together. More people means more exposure, more conversation, more relevance. It was smart.
Walking out, I started thinking about how fashion week works.
It’s about access, sure. But it’s also about understanding who’s in the room. Who gets the front row. Who decides what’s important. And while I still have no idea how people actually get on the VIP lists. But I do know that just being there, paying attention, showing up—that’s how you start to figure it out.
Copenhagen Fashion Week is Still A Hidden Gem
I don’t think it’ll be long before Copenhagen officially joins the ranks of Paris, Milan, New York, and London. The industry is already shifting—this is one of the only fashion weeks where sustainability isn’t a marketing buzzword, but an actual requirement. Brands have to prove that they’re meeting sustainability standards just to be on the calendar. It’s not about just throwing a few organic cotton pieces into a collection—it’s about supply chains, material sourcing, responsible production. Copenhagen Fashion Week is leading that conversation, and it’s only a matter of time before the bigger names want to be part of it.
And when that happens? The bigger brands will follow. The major models will walk here. The exclusivity will creep in. The front row will become even harder to crack. But right now, in this moment, Copenhagen Fashion Week still has this perfect in-between energy—influential, but not unattainable. Exclusive, but not impossible.
It still feels like a place where people are trying to build something. And honestly? That’s way more exciting than a front-row seat.
Thanks for reading Copenhagen Moodboard! <3