ベルリンのOttolinger、日本への待望の帰還

Ottolinger, though conceived and headquartered in Berlin for over a decade, had somehow never staged a show on its own home turf. That changed this season, as the city’s once-sidelined fashion week began to hum with a new kind of relevance. The label, founded by Cosima Gadient and Christa Bösch – Swiss natives who first crossed paths at Basel’s Institute of Fashion Design – has steadily built a following among the world’s more discerning cool-girls: the ones who prefer their tailoring deconstructed and their glamour with a hint of ruin. To know the brand, let alone wear it, is now something of a bellwether for the bratty It-girl taste currently in vogue. And that sensibility is everywhere here. A Berlin debut wasn’t just appropriate; it was overdue.

From the outset, Ottolinger has trafficked in a kind of beautiful disintegration. Bösch and Gadient burn, slash, and reassemble fabrics into sci-fi clubwear and couture hybrids – the results are raw, yes, but punk in spirit and, in the right light, could be mistaken for couture in silhouette. 

A turning point for the brand came early, when the duo secured a spot with VFiles and quietly began ghost-designing for Yeezy – a behind-the-scenes gig that helped bankroll their more uncompromising ambitions. By 2018, they’d landed on the LVMH Prize shortlist, firmly establishing themselves as fashion’s newest saboteurs. That same year, Ottolinger’s sculptural chaos began its march across major runways – to New York, but mostly to Paris. “Every city has their own energy. And every day is different. Every time we show somewhere, it’s different again,” says Gadient. Bösch adds, laughing: “But sometimes in Berlin you just have sweatpants on, and then you arrive in Paris and it’s like – oh, wow. You kind of feel like you packed the wrong things.”

To close out Berlin Fashion Week’s Intervention – a curated series by Reference Studios that aims to reimagine the city’s fashion landscape – Ottolinger led showgoers to the cavernous halls of Messe Berlin. There, amid the industrial grandeur, Gadient offered a strikingly tender take on the brand’s ethos. “The collection is really about Ottolinger being the older sister you never had,” she said (Bösch and Gadient are both older sisters themselves). “Maybe you don’t have one – but we can be that. We give you comfort. We test everything first. You don’t have to fail, because we’ll fail for you. And we’re here for support.”

Slotted between their primary ready-to-wear outings in Paris, the collection marked a rare foray into resort – an opportunity, as they saw it, to refine the visual language they’ve spent a decade perfecting. “That warm, comforting presence,” Gadient added, “is what we tried to channel this season.” Less rupture, more resonance.

That older-sister energy plays out most clearly in the fit – like a wardrobe half-raided and flung across a bed. Jackets come oversized and loose at the shoulder; shirts hang with studied indifference, either exaggeratedly cavernous or pulling at the buttons in just the wrong places. Straps dangle, strings trail, pieces shift and settle as the wearer moves – less polished than possessed. It’s the wardrobe of a cooler, more reckless sibling, repurposed for the night ahead: reimagined as clubwear, already halfway on the stomp to Berghain. Naturally, German pop star Kim Petras opened the show in a skimpy jersey knit two-piece, backed by a pounding remix of Lady Gaga’s Scheiße – its opening lyric, “I don’t speak German but I can if you like”, looping hypnotically.

Also featured is an upcoming collaboration with Nike in a body-conscious, deconstructed silhouette, emblazoned with that legendary swoosh. “We also introduced our reworked line,” Gadient explains. “We take old stock – pieces we’ve made before, even garments from other brands – and rework them. We dye them, distort them, shred them, flip them upside down. It’s about giving new life to what already exists.” In many ways, that ethos feels almost prerequisite now – part of the embedded DNA of the next-gen designer: environmentally conscious, materially restless, unwilling to accept the premise that fashion must begin from scratch. There’s more than enough clothing in the world; the real question is how to make the existing stuff feel new, urgent, desirable again. That, too, feels distinctly Berlin – not the aesthetic so much as the attitude.

“People tend to say Berlin is our inspiration,” Gadient adds. “And yes, in a way it is – but not because of a visual cue. It’s the freedom. The distance from trend cycles. That sense of being outside the system. Sometimes that’s isolating – but mostly, it allows us to breathe.”

Ottolinger, though conceived and headquartered in Berlin for over a decade, had somehow never staged a show on its own home turf. That changed this season, as the city’s once-sidelined fashion week began to hum with a new kind of relevance. The label, founded by Cosima Gadient and Christa Bösch – Swiss natives who first crossed paths at Basel’s Institute of Fashion Design – has steadily built a following among the world’s more discerning cool-girls: the ones who prefer their tailoring deconstructed and their glamour with a hint of ruin. To know the brand, let alone wear it, is now something of a bellwether for the bratty It-girl taste currently in vogue. And that sensibility is everywhere here. A Berlin debut wasn’t just appropriate; it was overdue.

From the outset, Ottolinger has trafficked in a kind of beautiful disintegration. Bösch and Gadient burn, slash, and reassemble fabrics into sci-fi clubwear and couture hybrids – the results are raw, yes, but punk in spirit and, in the right light, could be mistaken for couture in silhouette. 

A turning point for the brand came early, when the duo secured a spot with VFiles and quietly began ghost-designing for Yeezy – a behind-the-scenes gig that helped bankroll their more uncompromising ambitions. By 2018, they’d landed on the LVMH Prize shortlist, firmly establishing themselves as fashion’s newest saboteurs. That same year, Ottolinger’s sculptural chaos began its march across major runways – to New York, but mostly to Paris. “Every city has their own energy. And every day is different. Every time we show somewhere, it’s different again,” says Gadient. Bösch adds, laughing: “But sometimes in Berlin you just have sweatpants on, and then you arrive in Paris and it’s like – oh, wow. You kind of feel like you packed the wrong things.”

To close out Berlin Fashion Week’s Intervention – a curated series by Reference Studios that aims to reimagine the city’s fashion landscape – Ottolinger led showgoers to the cavernous halls of Messe Berlin. There, amid the industrial grandeur, Gadient offered a strikingly tender take on the brand’s ethos. “The collection is really about Ottolinger being the older sister you never had,” she said (Bösch and Gadient are both older sisters themselves). “Maybe you don’t have one – but we can be that. We give you comfort. We test everything first. You don’t have to fail, because we’ll fail for you. And we’re here for support.”

Slotted between their primary ready-to-wear outings in Paris, the collection marked a rare foray into resort – an opportunity, as they saw it, to refine the visual language they’ve spent a decade perfecting. “That warm, comforting presence,” Gadient added, “is what we tried to channel this season.” Less rupture, more resonance.

That older-sister energy plays out most clearly in the fit – like a wardrobe half-raided and flung across a bed. Jackets come oversized and loose at the shoulder; shirts hang with studied indifference, either exaggeratedly cavernous or pulling at the buttons in just the wrong places. Straps dangle, strings trail, pieces shift and settle as the wearer moves – less polished than possessed. It’s the wardrobe of a cooler, more reckless sibling, repurposed for the night ahead: reimagined as clubwear, already halfway on the stomp to Berghain. Naturally, German pop star Kim Petras opened the show in a skimpy jersey knit two-piece, backed by a pounding remix of Lady Gaga’s Scheiße – its opening lyric, “I don’t speak German but I can if you like”, looping hypnotically.

Also featured is an upcoming collaboration with Nike in a body-conscious, deconstructed silhouette, emblazoned with that legendary swoosh. “We also introduced our reworked line,” Gadient explains. “We take old stock – pieces we’ve made before, even garments from other brands – and rework them. We dye them, distort them, shred them, flip them upside down. It’s about giving new life to what already exists.” In many ways, that ethos feels almost prerequisite now – part of the embedded DNA of the next-gen designer: environmentally conscious, materially restless, unwilling to accept the premise that fashion must begin from scratch. There’s more than enough clothing in the world; the real question is how to make the existing stuff feel new, urgent, desirable again. That, too, feels distinctly Berlin – not the aesthetic so much as the attitude.

“People tend to say Berlin is our inspiration,” Gadient adds. “And yes, in a way it is – but not because of a visual cue. It’s the freedom. The distance from trend cycles. That sense of being outside the system. Sometimes that’s isolating – but mostly, it allows us to breathe.”