I have been very inspired by the Danish style here; people ooze aura. They wear sunglasses—even in cloudy weather—and lots of bandanas: around the waist like belts and on their heads. People walk in pleated skirts, tailored jorts, wide-barrel jeans. They traverse the old cobblestone streets in ballerina flats or colorful-cool sneakers. I have been silently, and hopefully imperceptibly, staring at them walking past me on the crosswalks or having their morning bolle med ost outside a local cafe.
I made it my mission to immerse myself in the fashion part of culture, but how? Copenhagen is not known for being the most affordable city. It is a good thing that Copenhagen has an abundance of thrifting spots. So, these past few weeks I have found myself walking up and down Nørrebrogade, a central street decorated with many thrift stores, second-hand boutiques and vintage shops.
I was walking into shops with hundreds of clothes and accessories to choose from. There was a great assortment of colors as well as textures and designs. There were “2000s-style” racks, but also graphic tees and sections dedicated to all types of funky sunglasses—the kind I could not find walking into any regular chain store in the Inner City. Every article of clothing had a story to tell, it seemed. There was so much character in that sequin shirt and those cargo capris. I took my time walking around the aisles to find that there were also staple items: quality jeans, brown boots. All of these items were also much cheaper than I anticipated, too.
Nørrebro itself is an interesting neighborhood. It is rich historically: Graffitied buildings bring color into the neighborhood, and the mix of new and old buildings creates architectural contrast. Nørrebrogade serves as a melting pot of cultures; restaurants from all types of cuisines fill spaces in between ethnic grocery shops and studios. Almost one out of every six people living in the neighborhood has a non-Danish passport. It has also always been a place that attracts a young audience. In 1982, a building called Folkets Hus (The People’s House) and later Ungdomshuset (The Youth House) became a dedicated spot for young people to gather and discuss labor movements and political advocacy and action. However, in 2006 and 2007, riots between the youth in Ungdomshuset and the police ensued as the police attempted to demolish and sell the building. Ungdomshuset does not stand anymore, but the neighborhood is still bright with political advocacy.
At the end of my trip, shopping around Nørrebro, I came back to my kollegium with a fire pair of sunglasses and lots of inspiration of what I would keep an eye out for. When I ask Danish people my age where they are getting their clothes from, many say thrift stores and vintage shops. It is common to first look for the article of clothing you want in a more sustainable place. It is also common to have places around the city and within our kollegiums where people can give away their clothes, accessories, appliances and other miscellaneous items in a singular shared space where others can then peruse and pick out anything they need or want for free. It is a concept that closely mirrors our Stop Waste and Promote Reuse (SWAPR) efforts back at Vassar that take place at the end of the year. However, it was so refreshing to see this as a common community incentive. In fact, the rug in my room, which adds so much hygge to our otherwise barren abode, came from one of these sites.
I am not surprised to find myself back at Nørrebro time and time again. Even though what first drew me into the neighborhood was its vibrant vintage presence, it became so much more interesting to walk though having learned about its history and significance in the sociopolitical culture of Copenhagen. Furthermore, I cannot help but notice how ingrained the efforts of sustainability are in the community and how important this mindset is to bring back to the United States when I come back from being abroad.