For many years Berlin Fashion Week was so distinctly unfashionable and overtly commercial (in all the wrong ways) that any mention of the event still elicits an eye roll from a large number of the city’s undeniably stylish populace. Launched in 2007 by IMG, BFW was recently subject to a facelift by the Fashion Council Germany (founded in 2015) in an effort to put the German capital on the international fashion map — a position that has, as yet, eluded it. Berlin Fashion Week’s SS19 edition earlier this month, however, was different to past iterations: it felt like the city’s most vehement attempt yet to be taken seriously, marking some milestones in the event’s history, including the participation of a few seriously legit brands, as well as appearances by Wiz Khalifa and Virgil Abloh. But, what did all the bells, whistles and big names equate to for the designers showing, for the crowds attending and for the German fashion industry’s reputation generally? And what signals did it give off in terms of where BFW wants to place itself on an already vastly overcrowded fashion schedule?
One of the most notable moments of BFW SS19 was the return of Hugo Boss — one of Germany’s most commercially successful fashion brands — who quit BFW three years ago only to re-embrace it this season with open arms. Then, there was the securing of LVMH-nominated Antwerp brand BOTTER, who opened the Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week programme equipped with inflatable dolphins. The about-turn in this year’s BFW approach even convinced German Margiela protege Lutz Huelle to hold his first ever show on home soil — he normally presents in Paris but served lit-er-al looks from his last two seasons at a special show held in Berghain’s hallowed halls. All of this aside, there was one vital ingredient missing from BFW’s recipe for success, something that lies at the very heart of Berlin’s inability to secure “fashion capital” status: the city’s most innovative and established brands, from GmbH and Ottolinger to 032C, Nhu Duong and Dumitrascu, who choose, season after season, not to show here.
“You have to ask yourself, what is a fashion week for?” GmbH’s Serhat Isik tells SLEEK of BFW’s obvious attempt to drum up hype this season. “For GmbH, it is to reach international buyers and press, most of whom are unable to come to Berlin in an already gruelling schedule.” It’s steadfast reasoning, and echoes the sentiments of Ottolinger’s Cosima Gadient and Christa Bösch when quoted in Business of Fashion earlier this year. “It is very important for us to show our collections during Paris Fashion Week,” they said, “because the whole industry is present there these days, and some of those people might not come to Berlin.” And, it seems those key players, so vital for that smidge of financial security that keeps struggling Berlin brands afloat, are still not making an appearance.
Instead, this Berlin Fashion Week appears to have been hellbent on attracting Berlin’s younger fashion circuit of Instagram trendies and Highsnobiety sneakerheads, as Virgil Abloh’s closing-party DJ set at 808 proves case-in-point. Meanwhile, Hugo Boss dropping an undoubtedly obscene wad of cash on Wiz Khalifa’s fleeting performance (shy of 10 minutes, we’re sure) was a sure-fire attempt to gain a glimmer of street-cred from the hype beasts they hoped would be flocking to buy their streetwear-inspired SS19 collection.
That’s not to say that the 20-something fashion target is necessarily a bad thing, however, and there are still a string of impressive Berlin-based brands who seemed keen to show to this audience of future buyers, as well as their regular steadfast fans. “It is of great importance for me to offer my loyal German client base a show that abducts them into a new world,” says German-Chinese designer William Fan, who regularly showcases his finely tailored garments at BFW as part of the “Berliner Salon” — a hand-picked curation of rising design talents by Vogue Germany editor-in-chief, Christiane Arp. Fan’s collections are produced in Hong Kong, but he proudly stages his studio as well as his shows in the country where the vast majority of his clients reside. “To follow an anti-cyclical and local direction builds the foundation of the brand and being located here allows me to get to know my client’s needs,” he tells us. “It means I can understand them better and see things from their perspective, which is very inspiring.” Fan does agree that having showrooms in other countries is beneficial commercially, but he is hopeful that by remaining in Berlin — in spite of the increasing global awareness surrounding his chic ready-to-wear offerings — that he will help bolster international interest in the city and its creative scene.
Laos-born, Berlin-raised designer Hien Le, who is usually an esteemed mainstay of Berlin Fashion Week but didn’t show this season for “personal reasons”, shares Fan’s viewpoint. “I’ve been showing in a Paris showroom since forever,” he says, “because I think no matter where you are based, if you want to sell you have to have a showroom or do another fair somewhere besides your own city — especially if your city is Berlin. But, I am so happy and really thankful that we have a German fashion week; I think it is a good opportunity for us German designers and Berliners to show.” As such, Le laments the fact that many of Germany’s biggest designers don’t present their collections here, or that many of those who did at one stage no longer do. “It’s sad for the fashion scene in Berlin; I felt like there was something missing this season,” he says, “even though it’s great that Boss came back to their roots and that Lutz (Huelle), who has a big international reputation, also showed.”
Isik of GmbH disgrees. “Any hype for BFW will not help designers in Berlin trying to build a business,” he says. “Antwerp does not do a fashion week, but has produced some of the world’s most influential designers. Forget about a local fashion week, but support local talent, and help them reach an international audience abroad.” It’s certainly true that there are more direct and effective ways to help German designers to succeed than by attempting to conform to the traditional, and increasingly problematic, fashion week structure, but as Jörg Ehrlich and Otto Drögsler, the designers and founders of Austrian-German luxury brand ODEEH point out, BFW does have strengths it can play to. “The good thing we always forget about Berlin Fashion Week is that it’s at the beginning of the season,” the duo, who continue to present their collections during BFW, expands. “Paris, Milan, New York are pretty much at the end, and are still very much stuck in a general schedule that has changed dramatically. Retailers are spending their budgets earlier — in June and July — and this ‘early approach’ could theoretically make Berlin more relevant in terms of the basic decisions buyers have to make. Berlin should probably exploit this special advantage more significantly.”
Lutz Huelle, speaking to SLEEK before his Berghain show, appeared to share the same opinion — that, during this time of considerable upheaval to the fashion week structure, now is the time for Berlin to position itself according to its strengths. “I think it’s actually an amazing moment for Berlin right now — and also for fashion in general; everything is so open, anything seems possible. Berlin is such an amazing place — it just needs openness, enthusiasm and passion to succeed and the city has that in spades. So here we go!” BOTTER’s Rushemy Botter and Lisi Herrebrugh feel equally optimistic, telling SLEEK, “We love the fact everybody is supporting each other and lifting the fashion week up. Being a small part of that makes us feel really honoured!”
Although this optimism might be a little premature, perhaps there is a case to be made for BFW capitalising on this sense of community and the unique spirit of the city. Berlin is a radical city — one that promotes an alternative lifestyle and boasts dynamic artistic communities, and one that prides itself on its everyday rebels and revolutionaries, not least in a fashion context. This is a city where it’s cooler to be dressed in eclectic second-hand finds than top-to-toe designer labels, and the German capital’s fashion week should in some way reflect that. Why should Berlin try to emulate long-established fixtures in Paris, Milan, New York and London, if it has never sought to emulate them in any other way?
By dismissing the fashion cognoscenti and focussing on the fashion-forward public instead, BFW has the potential to subvert the traditional fashion week structure, and carve out a space for itself all of its own. Although the absence of buyers and international fashion press proves BFW a non-viable option for up-and-coming brands without the means (financial or time-wise) to invest in it solely, what the most recent edition showed is that there is room for an alternative model that demonstrates a more democratic approach to fashion. It’s something that Germany already excels in — bearing the success of fashion e-commerce behemoth, Zalando, in mind, whose impressive, consumer-driven model has made it one of Europe’s most profitable online retailers, and it seems BFW has taken a leaf from this book. By drumming up excitement for potential consumers, and stirring demand from the ground-up, rather than copycatting its prestigious counterparts, BFW is leaving any delusions of grandeur at the door, seizing its democratic potential and engineering a fashion week befitting of a city that has never played by the rules.