Come inside beloved stylist Camilla Larsson's eclectic Copenhagen apartment

The apartment of Henrik Bülow and Camilla Larsson signals a full life – one that has certainly not been boring. Situated on the fourth floor of a building in the Copenhagen suburb of Frederiksberg, the loft rolls out from under the eaves into a deliciously romantic space. Entering through the kitchen to an open living and dining area, which snakes around a central cast iron fireplace, one finds a home deep set with paintings, sculptures, books and mementos. Each item comes with a tale behind its presence in their home.

Bülow and Larsson are the sort of creative couple that truly live their work. As a renowned fashion photographer, Bülow has had stints in New York and London, spending stretches of time in Copenhagen here and there. “I always somehow had a place in Copenhagen when I was abroad – I never gave Denmark up totally,” he says. “I was always attracted back to here. The roots were too deep.” Actors, models, musicians – Bülow has shot them all, often twice, contributing to the world’s most celebrated fashion publications. However, it took meeting Larsson, a celebrated stylist, to anchor his perspective.

While studying in Denmark, Bülow’s work was “organic and also historical.” By the time he settled in London, things had drastically changed. “I wanted to do money shots. I had an apartment in New York and a house in London, so there was this pressure to be earning,” he says. “It was a relief to meet Camilla – she took me back to where I came from, back to the organic.”

Larsson, whose career in fashion has been long, reputable and respected, works with a plethora of beloved fashion titles, including Vogue Scandinavia. Having reconnected on a shoot, Larsson and Bülow started dating. Initially it was strictly romance, but their entwining thoughts and conversations about the past and its potential to inform the present grew into an ongoing creative partnership.

“When we started seeing each other I thought it was too cliché if we worked together – it would be too obvious,” Larsson says. “But then all of a sudden it made sense. Our styles just evolved and moulded together.” They’re a natural duo, whose visual language is an instinctive fit. “What we found we had in common was the vintage look – a lot of nostalgia, the analogue feel that Henrik has always had,” says Larsson. “It is felt in the apartment too.”

Bülow and Larsson have filled their home with potential moments of inspiration. A line in an artwork hanging on the wall or the way the light hits a glass in the kitchen can spin out into an entire project. As Bülow shows me around the space, he points out pieces that have played a role – both small and mighty – in his work. “In all the art pieces we have bought, we have used it somehow in our projects,” he says. “It could be a hairdo, a makeup thing, a colour. It could be something like a line or a shadow or a shape that could inspire us.”

The Nordic habit of stripping back one’s surroundings until you are barely left with a rug under your feet has no place here. Instead, a sturdy antique armoire and a well-worn leather chair sit in conversation with antique curiosities – the watchful stuffed owl, the bell jar protecting a porcelain flower pillar. Stacks of hardback art books line the floor. Larsson admits they aren’t the sort of couple that considers how things might “go together.” “That’s sort of the key to the home feel,” she says. Recently there’s been a new addition: the couple’s son, Matteo.

Neither Bülow nor Larsson grew up with the strictness of minimalism. Bülow notes that his mother’s home was “so crowded – there was not a single space anywhere.” Larsson describes a similar experience when she would visit her grandparents, recalling warmly how each item in their home had a story to tell. Larsson praises her Swedish grandmother as her “guiding start in how I see and appreciate all things beautiful – from antiques, the poetry of dried flowers, and the unmatched elegance in sun-faded colours.”

Standing in the Bülow-Larsson household, there are no immediate signifiers that I’m even in Copenhagen. It is a trait so rarely found in well-curated Danish apartments, in which young creatives strive to find a personal flair, yet often lean back into established design codes of conduct.

“What you see in our home and in our images is that we don’t work with trends,” says Larsson. "We try to be contemporary, if the contemporary is interesting, absolutely, but when I style I don’t pick it because it’s a trend, it’s because it’s beautiful or has some other interest in my mind. I think that is very telling for our home and the images that we do.” Bülow agrees: “We do a lot of research when we do a project in all kinds of ways. We look into old films and old pictures and books the like,” he says. “How we work is an extension of ourselves,” Larsson concludes. I ask if their home, too, is an extension of themselves. “Definitely,” she says. “There is humanity behind it all here in our home. There is a spirit in everything.”

By now we’ve settled in the kitchen, drinking coffee and taking turns holding baby Matteo. “A lot of people asked us if we wanted to move when we had this little guy but we just have to find a way to live here and I love it,” Bülow says, acknowledging the need for things to be shuffled around when Matteo starts to crawl, and then to run. “Many of the pieces in this home hold a personal connection, whether through the artist or otherwise. Some of these pieces are the results of a swap between us and the artist or us saving up for it. I would give my right hand for a piece I love.”

There is a sense of democracy to the items in their home, each piece equally cherished regardless of worth or prestige. An Eames armchair and footrest sits in the corner, primed to catch the afternoon sun. Nearby, a dusty peach bouquet of roses is arranged in an antique glass vase. Moody oil canvasses grace the walls – images of a bygone era. Everything about this place is lived in and loved.

“Our images, our home and our personal style are a reaction towards mass production,” says Larsson, smiling, as Bülow leaves to put Matteo back in his antique crib, a seamless addition to the landscape. If home is where the heart is, their heart is full to bursting.