The Art of Coziness: A Look at Fashion In Pursuit of Hygge
By Sierra Cameron
Cover image by Sierra Cameron
Linen pants, cardamom buns, bicycles gathered on every cobblestone street corner, Joe & the Juice, funky jewelry, cocktails on the canal, and classic yet colorful Adidas. Danish style extends beyond an outfit: it’s an aesthetic, it’s a lifestyle, it’s a state of being.
When I arrived in Copenhagen last July for a month-long study abroad program, I was eager to explore my new home. During the first week, I did all of the picture perfect things one must do while in Copenhagen over the summer: I ate Thai noodles at Reffen, laughed late into the night with new friends at Kayak Bar, tanned on the docks of La Banchina, and wandered the halls of the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art with as much sophistication as I could muster.
I quickly became obsessed with Danish culture and tried my best to assimilate through fashion. I figured that if my outfits weren’t too “American,” my tall stature and blonde hair might help me blend in with the locals. So I thrifted a light blue floral Ganni top and wore my hair in a low slicked back bun. I bought pastel pink and navy Adidas sneakers and even toyed with the idea of a Carhartt Work in Progress sweatshirt. By the second week, I was both flattered and embarrassed when store clerks assumed I was Danish by asking if I wanted a receipt in their native tongue. My European life was a facade. I knew, and I feared the Danes knew, that I was simply a tourist from the land of McDonalds and guns.
With a reputation entirely opposite from the United States, Denmark is said to be home to some of the happiest people in the world. Spend a day in Copenhagen and you’ll believe it; heartwarming scenes are not hard to come by. Groups of friends just about my age gathered around bottles of wine and hors d'oeuvres on the bank of the canal that snakes through the city. Elderly couples shared a pizza in the back corner of a cozy candlelit restaurant. Students studied amongst roses and chirping birds on park benches. Families built sand castles and played mini golf near the beach. Everyone appeared comfortable and at ease. From what I observed, Danes treated time as though it was precious, but not fleeting.
In the Philosophy of Happiness course I took while in Copenhagen, I learned how to label what I was observing. Hygge. There’s no direct English translation of hygge, but it’s essentially a state of being derived from a combination of coziness, satisfaction, warmth, humility and togetherness. Used widely by the Danes, practically any object, experience, or trait can be considered hygge. The Little Book of Hygge: Danish Secrets to Happy Living by Meik Wiking describes it as “about an atmosphere and an experience, rather than about things. It is about being with people we love. A feeling of home. A feeling that we are safe, that we are shielded from the world and allow ourselves to let our guard down.” Hygge can be the sound of a crackling fire, the soft smell of tea steeping in a ceramic mug, the feeling of throwing on a sweater as rain falls outside, the taste of mulled wine, or the sight of candles flickering on a windowsill. In his book, Wiking distills hygge into ten elements which he calls “The Hygge Manifesto.” These include atmosphere, presence, pleasure, equality, gratitude, harmony, comfort, truce, togetherness and shelter.
My time in Copenhagen was precious and limited, but once I acquainted myself with the pursuit of hygge, it didn’t feel fleeting. Towards the end of the program, my classmates expressed anxiety around the remaining activities on their tourist to-do lists. There were plenty of things I also hadn’t done, but I figured that if I hadn’t yet crossed it off my list, it probably didn’t actually matter to me all that much. Instead, I spent my time with the people I had grown to love — myself being one. While traveling in a foreign place with people who had initially been strangers, I got good at appreciating my own company. For example, solo meals, which I once would’ve perceived as embarrassing, became empowering. I also learned to slow down. Every sip of coffee, every word on a page, and every face on the train became resonant. Finally, my fashion changed again as I aimed to prioritize authenticity over assimilation. In some instances, that meant opting for Lululemon leggings, an American athleisure staple.
If American fashion culture can be defined as trendy, then Denmark’s is stylish. Even so, Danish fashion isn’t just one style, but rather a manifestation of every feeling, place, smell, object and moment that creates hygge. It’s quality over quantity. It’s comfort with an air of confidence. It’s casually elegant and classy yet approachable. It’s the chichest “I just threw this on” you’ve ever seen. In Denmark, fashion meets hygge at the intersection of intentionality and effortlessness.
All images by Sierra Cameron