The evolution of the #GanniGirl

It’s the stuff of Scandinavian fashion legend. The year is 2015. Helena Christensen and her pal Kate Bosworth turn up to lunch wearing the very same jacket from then-indie Danish fashion label Ganni. They snap a photo for Instagram, which could very well be a brand-defining moment in and of itself. But then, they add a hashtag. Two little words that would change the trajectory of Ganni forever. And thus, #GanniGirls is born.

In the six years since Christensen and Bosworth uploaded that pivotal image, the hashtag has claimed 62.6K posts and counting. It is a social media-driven success story, complete with charming origins, countless other brands have tried to emulate to various levels of success. Even as the brand has bloomed beyond its under-the-radar roots, opening flagships in both New York and Los Angeles and becoming a top-seller on archetypal online shopping destination Net-A-Porter, it’s still ineffably cool to be a Ganni Girl.

Ganni has more or less stuck to its guns since husband-wife duo Ditte and Nicolaj Reffstrup (creative director and CEO respectively) took over the brand in 2009. Generously cut prairie dresses with empire waists and puffed sleeves, midi-length silk slips, chunky boots and fuzzy cropped knits are all quintessential Ganni. So are leopard, floral and plaid prints. Ruched seersucker is totally Ganni, as are scrunchies.

At first glance, one might call it “girly with bite,” a label that felt appropriate at the dawn of #GanniGirls, but today feels reductive. This is not because Ganni itself has changed. Sure, the brand delivers new designs season after season, but it continues to speak with the same language, expanding its universe without rewriting the rules or following trends (it does, however, often stumble into trends, serendipitously). Ganni has certainly grown, but it has not changed. What has changed, is the Ganni Girl.

It isn’t only the sublime silhouettes and charming prints that endear cool girls worldwide to Ganni. “I find it refreshing how transparent Ganni is about how the brand is run,” says Na Chainkua Reindorf, AKA Chainky, an artist based in Binghamton, New York. “Part of their brand identity, I believe, is striving to be more responsible, accountable and inclusive. They have dedicated a prominent part of their website to providing extensive information on their progress which anyone can access with a few clicks.”

At the dawn of the infamous hashtag, #GanniGirls were rather easily defined. The vibe was very Danish. Hair down and natural. Little to no makeup. Just a dash of boho energy. Dresses were oft styled with sneakers. It was all so effortless. This was quite literally by design. Ditte has said she only makes clothes she’d wear herself; clothes that adapt to bike rides around Copenhagen and chasing after her children. At the time, it wasn’t easy to get your hands on Ganni gear outside of Scandinavia — physical stores existed only in Denmark and the brand had not yet been picked up by the larger online retailers. Most influencers on the brand’s seeding list, a crucial tool in the brand’s exponential growth, were local.

As Ganni went global, so too did its girls. Now, a scroll through the hashtag reveals Ganni Girls in Seoul, Montreal, Amsterdam and Lisbon. Some wear jeans under their prairie dresses and others accessorise them with Gucci monogrammed tights and heels. There are severe haircuts dyed unnatural hues and fire engine red lipstick. Monochromatic fits and power clashing. Best of all, there is racial diversity and women (sorry, “girls”) of all sizes. Turns out the international appeal of Ganni isn’t adopting the total Danish aesthetic but rather taking just a slice — a frill here, a pouf there — and incorporating it into one’s individual style. And, with price points far more accessible than the average it-brand, you don’t need to be a Danish supermodel or an influencer to be a Ganni Girl.

“I think Ganni has no limitations,” Cheri Yun, a Korean artist and stylist who splits her time between Seoul and London, told us over email. She employed the hashtag on a fit that included the Ganni x Levi’s collaboration from earlier this year. “I like how the brand is evolving so fast and collaborating with multiple artists and brands,” she writes, adding, “It also gives a sense of humour to my wardrobe.”

There is no question that Ganni has become a global phenomenon, but there remains a pivotal group in the brand’s success that remain unseen via the #GanniGirls hashtag. They’re the sort of women who are unlikely to participate in a viral hashtag at all: women in their 40s, 50s and 60s who have fallen in love with the brand for its breezy comfort, affordability and unbridled joy. Though the hashtag projects a vision of dreamy youth — even the use of the word girls screams young — there is a demographic of ardent Ganni fans who express their admiration for the brand offline, by buying the clothes and actually wearing them as they go about their everyday lives. I see them on the streets of Stockholm every day, pushing strollers, walking to work in the morning or dashing to grab a cocktail in the evening.

Still, the Ganni tribe is constantly finding new members with no signs of slowing. “I became aware of Ganni during the first few months of the pandemic. I wanted to amp up my style and discover new brands. I immediately fell in love with Ganni for its eccentric patterns, colours and silhouettes,” says Isabelle Allain, a model from Montreal. “No kidding, I felt so in sync with the clothes that it made me want to move to Denmark.”

Now, I wouldn’t necessarily identify as a Ganni Girl in the traditional sense of the hashtag — I have too many tattoos and my hair is often slicked back. Plus, I’m Canadian. But last summer, I popped by the Ganni store here in Stockholm to expand my prairie dress repertoire (I’m the sort who would style one with converse and a well-worn suede duster). As the shop woman handed me my purchase — a checkered number with both puffy sleeves and a frilled collar — she knowingly uttered the phrase, “You’re a Ganni girl now.” And you know what? Maybe I am.