Words by Didder Rønlund I fell head over heels for all Henrik Vibskov‘s quirks and curious ideas – indeed, for the entire energy and atmosphere of the collection, inside Carlsberg’s large bottling hall. And yet again, I fell for the man himself, and his stone face as he shuffled in, and took his bow. That is, what it is called, when the designers enter the podium, after the finale, and receive their applause. I saw men in many kinds of trousers and even more colours, girls who did not hold back, and everyone wearing the same odd shoes, which probably could achieve some health labelling. Some of Vibskov’s distinctive hats, with a tall, round crown, actually cheered you up. Use them with anything, even with a nice fur coat, if you have one. A special addition to this – plus vests, jackets, backpacks, shirts, dresses and blouses in provocative congestion – was Henrik’s sharp eye for commercial clothing, for stores and target groups, who neither want to own tailor-made suits or ties. You need a formidable talent to contain all that. And Henrik Vibskov has that talent.