Nothing reminds me that my Pomeranian, Snowball, descends from wolves quite like reading Scandinavian history. A millennium ago, the Vikings were the bane and terror of Christendom. Tattooed giants berserk on mushrooms, storming the monasteries of England, the ramparts of Constantinople, and the gates of Paris. Nietzschean blond beasts of prey, crazed with bloodlust, pouring from the boreal fringes of Europe like sea-borne hellspawn. “God deliver us from the fury of the Northman.”
In place of a battle-axe, the modern Dane wields a brushed suede messenger bag and a cappuccino. Whereas the medieval Swede braved the frigid seas clad in crude furs, his present-day counterpart bikes stately avenues sporting cable-knit sweaters, cashmere scarves, and a tailored overcoat. The centuries have tempered the feral Northman into the Nordic gentleman—urbane, cosmopolitan, and above all, devastatingly debonair.
I sat down with Edwin Nenzell, a designer at Rose & Born, a Stockholm-based luxury menswear house, for a deep dive into Scandinavian style. “The long winters and soft light naturally lead to muted palettes and a focus on layering,” Edwin explained. Form follows function, with designers keeping in mind comfort on, say, snowy strolls through Oslo or blustery gondola rides along Stockholm’s waterways. Clean lines, elegant minimalism, and an aversion to flashiness are hallmarks. “I rely on understated touches to beautify my garments—herringbone textiles, horn buttons, tonal stitching,” Edwin told me.
From the fires of Iceland to the golden halls of Stockholm—harken, ye sons of Odin! A saga of glorious Scandinavian menswear.
Rose & Born
My friend Elis Montén, a young Turk among Swedish designers, calls Rose & Born “the Loro Piana of Scandinavia.” A Stockholm icon since 1989, Rose & Born sources premium fabrics from the U.K. and Italy’s Viale district. Their flawlessly stitched blazers, overcoats, and trousers epitomize gentility—luxury whispered rather than shouted.
Rose & Born’s suede overshirt, cut from Italian goat suede, is as soft and sumptuous as Freya’s golden tresses. The front pockets are large enough to hold a paperback, a pack of smokes, and a flask. Rock it with a button-down and chinos for the office, or a T-shirt and jeans for the public house.
66°North
Named for the latitude that marks the Arctic Circle, 66°North originally outfitted Icelandic fishermen—men who worked in conditions so unforgiving that survival often came down to proper gear. Their cold-weather attire is technical enough to brave the Arctic tundra, yet dapper enough to conquer the cocktail lounges of Manhattan.
The Tindur Technical Fleece makes Patagonia or North Face look like the JV squad. The elastic drawstrings at the hem and collar seal in heat. With a crimson logo and solid black shell, the fleece looks fly as hell with denim or khakis.
Montén
Fashion wunderkind, bon vivant, and international man of mystery, Elis Montén launched his eponymous menswear label in his early twenties. His collections—spanning clothing, eyewear, and footwear—marry the serene restraint of Scandinavian aesthetics with the hedonism of Burning Man.
I am particularly fond of Montén’s eyewear, which I’d wear even if I had perfect vision. Made from Japanese acetate, the bold frames sharpen the jawline and lend a cinematic edge to the profile. The tinted frames scream Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas but with a fashionista’s flair—Hunter Thompson meets Helmut Lang.
Fjällräven
Fjällräven backpacks—those colorful little satchels with the fox logo—are as ubiquitous in Brooklyn as septum piercings and Zohran stickers. Founded in 1960 in Örnsköldsvik, Sweden, Fjällräven also purveys superb menswear staples.
Flannels are my winter uniform, but the trick is finding one that doesn’t make you look like a strung-out lumberjack. Fjällräven’s Skog Shirt, soft as the driven snow and enlivened with eye-catching colors, nails it. I relish mine so much I started listening to ABBA, curing gravlax in my apartment, and reconsidering Nordic socialism.
Mads Nørgaard
With its brooding weather, elegant architecture, and soft, melancholy light, Copenhagen has inspired artistic giants from Shakespeare to Kierkegaard and H.C. Andersen. Mads Nørgaard distills Danish sauveness into its purest essence, designing sleek menswear known for Breton stripes, monochrome knits, and pared-down elegance. If Hamlet, literature’s most famous Dane, had sported Mads Nørgaard, he might have found the confidence to charm Ophelia.
