What does it take to be a Ganni Girl? Is it the effortless cool? The offbeat-meets-classic wardrobe? The ability to make even the most outlandish layering choices look like a stroke of genius? Or maybe it’s just the sheer audacity to show up to a five-star hotel in Paris wearing shorts and a hoodie. Arriving in Paris with a leopard jacket and a dream, I was about to find out.
When Ganni invited me from London to Paris for their Fall 2025 show, I was already halfway to convincing myself that this was my moment. In my lifelong pursuit of manifesting the It girl—that bitch—within me, this felt like an appropriate social experiment. Sinking into my Eurostar Premier seat, I thought about what lay ahead. Paris Fashion Week. The thrill of embodying the ultimate Ganni Girl—even if, technically, I’m a boy. (A minor detail, really.)
Ganni had sent me an outfit for the show—a black hoodie with the brand emblazoned across the front, a leopard print jacket with a contrast collar, and dark blue jeans. I had requested an oversized Hobo bag, which never came. Instead, they offered me a green mock croc version with gold hardware—honestly, more fabulous. In the styling suite (my hotel room), the jeans were swapped for Comme des Garçons gingham shorts and the shoes decided upon by my stylist (me) were my trusty Louboutin loafers.
Here’s the thing—being a Ganni Girl isn’t just about wearing Ganni. It’s about a certain je ne sais quoi—or, in this case, jeg ved ikke hvad. It’s the ability to throw together an outfit that looks like madness on a hanger but like magic in motion. It’s an energy. A state of mind.
On the way to the show, I shared a car with Vogue’s Emily Chan and Isabella Rose Davey, COO of Copenhagen Fashion Week. As we cruised through Paris traffic, Rose Davey summed up Ganni’s appeal with a single line: “They packaged the Danish thing really well and put a leopard print bow on it.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.
It was a gloriously sunny afternoon, the kind that makes everything feel a little more cinematic. Light poured in through the venue’s arched windows, casting soft golden hues onto the runway. The music was ambient—ethereal, pulsating, almost meditative.
And then, the models. Serene, effortlessly poised, almost floating as they walked. The entire room seemed to exhale as the first look appeared—a slouchy suit in a deep chocolate brown corduroy, cinched just enough to give the illusion of structure without losing that signature Ganni ease. I caught more than a few girls smiling—smiling hard.
Ditte Reffstrup, Ganni’s creative director, had spoken to me earlier about the collection’s theme: protection. “We started thinking about where we feel safe,” she told me during a preview. “It’s about home, friends, and family. But also about how your experiences and surroundings shape you.” And it showed. The collection was filled with voluminous coats that felt like chic, wearable embraces, slouchy tailoring that walked the line between polished and playfully undone, florals and tapestry-inspired jacquards that looked like they had lived full lives before making it onto the runway.
I sat between Georgiana Huddart, founder of Hunza G, and a Korean influencer named Yeii. Huddart and I bonded over Ganni’s ability to create a sense of aspiration that extends beyond just clothing. She nodded in agreement, noting that Hunza G follows a similar philosophy within the swimwear space. Yeii, meanwhile, was all about the aesthetic. “Everything is so cute, and so lovely,” she gushed, looking impossibly fab in head-to-toe Ganni.
Elsewhere in the room, I spotted an entire roster of Ganni Girls: my friend Tish Weinstock, serving all-black Ganni realness save for a chocolate Bou bag; Julia Sarr Jamois; Camille Rowe; Pernille Teisbaek (OG Ganni Girl); Blanca Miró (another OG Ganni Girl); Dree Hemingway; Cora Corré; and Ming Xi. A true show of Ganni Girl solidarity.
As it all ended, I found myself reflecting on my transformation—or lack thereof. Had I truly become a Ganni Girl? Or had I simply arrived, as I was, and discovered that maybe that was enough?
Going in, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel—Ganni has never really been my style. But their world is undeniable—rooted in wholesomeness, authenticity, and an innate joy so many brands try (and fail) to manufacture. It’s a strategy worth noting. And their move to Paris? Bold. But maybe one to watch. If nothing else, it proves their commitment to evolution, pushing beyond their Copenhagen roots into something bigger.
Right after the show, I took the Metro to the Undercover show. People stared. As I stood on the platform, getting my picture taken, an older gentleman stopped to tell me I looked “nice.” Later, as I bought Marlboro Golds at the bureaux de tabac, a woman praised my bag.
Not a single homophobic or racist slur. Just compliments.
I may not be leaving Paris with the bag I originally wanted, but I’m leaving with something better: the realisation that the Ganni Girl isn’t about a wardrobe—she (or he) is about the vibe.
And that? That, I hope I nailed.