What One Year in Berlin, Germany Taught Me About Personal Style
Photo by Valeria Palesska via Pexels
In my phone’s Notes app I have a note titled, “seen on the street,” where I jotted down interesting outfits I saw in Berlin. I started it last summer when I moved to Berlin and had an idea (albeit a fleeting one) of visually creating these outfits to illustrate what I see on the streets here (because I’m often asked). Candidly, there are only so many hours in the day, and that hasn’t happened.
But if you’re curious, here’s part of the note:
That first outfit? The jumpsuit? So cool, even if my description doesn’t sound like it.
And the next one—with the elephant brooch—is particularly interesting to me because, as you might know, brooches are really having a moment. But that was last summer, and if I had to guess, the elephant brooch had nothing to do with what would be trending in spring 2026. I think the woman just liked the brooch.
“What’s everyone wearing?”
As an American expat—who happens to be a personal stylist—living in Berlin, Germany, I’m often asked by friends in the States about the fashion here.
“What’s everyone wearing?”
Because the consensus seems to be that fashion in Europe is decidedly better and/or more interesting than fashion in the United States.
Even my 50-something cousin, who recently visited, remarked on European style, and he’s not even particularly into fashion. Yet, he was so proud of himself for packing all neutrals, which he felt made him look like he fit right in. “European.”
In Berlin, though, it’s not just neutrals. And if you know Berlin, you might be thinking, “No, it’s just black,” which isn’t entirely wrong, either.
There’s more to it than neutrals and black, though.
When we arrived in Berlin last summer, the early days were mostly spent dodging puddles (if you know Berlin summer, you know), hitting “refresh” on the moving company website to find the location of our household goods shipment and becoming BFFs with Google Translate. My daughter and I got out pretty much every day to explore the city in some capacity, too. The latter was obviously the most entertaining pastime of the bunch.
There was so much to see, including what everyone was wearing. Hence the note in my phone. Hokey as it might sound, I felt like my senses were waking up in those early days—hopping on the train or the bus to go see a sight, catching a whiff of döner in the air, discovering sirens really are excessively loud here, and of course, checking out everyone’s sense of style.
For a decade prior, I lived a very vanilla suburban life in Austin, Texas, driving everywhere and seeing a lot of sameness—including when it came to style. (And, zero shade to Austin; there’s a lot I miss about it!) So, to move across the world to a very international city and ditch the car in favor of public transit was an awakening of my senses, in a way.
Anything goes.
In short, when it comes to personal style, it seems like everyone—regardless of age—wears what they want and gets on with their day.
I’m wrapping up an intensive German language and integration course along with classmates in their 20s, 30s and a few of us in our 40s and maybe beyond—people from Ukraine, Russia, Azerbaijan, Poland, India, Nepal, China, Spain, maybe elsewhere that I’ve forgotten—and a few Americans, including me. There isn’t a single style that stands out when I think about my classmates or teachers, even people from the same country or in the same age range.
This isn’t limited to my classroom. It’s true everywhere I go here. People wear all sorts of things. If I had to try to summarize style collectively here, well, it would be very challenging. Yes, there’s a lot of black. Yes, there are a lot of neutrals. But there’s also a fair bit of color. Surprisingly, there are a decent amount of U.S. sports teams hoodies, t-shirts and baseball caps. And there is almost always sensible footwear.
What I don’t often see? Style that’s particularly loud or fussy. For the most part, style isn’t flaunted. A German friend explained that in general, Germans don’t put their wealth on display when it comes to the clothes they wear or the cars they drive. Are there exceptions? For sure. But it makes sense when you think about the simple, timeless style—all neutral—you often see.
“Dress for your age” doesn’t seem to be a thing here, either. I don’t get the sense that women stop wearing things when they reach a certain age. On the contrary, the people whose outfits I often find most interesting are women who are (presumably) older than me.
Small talk isn’t fashion-focused.
At home, in the U.S., it is completely normal to greet a friend or family member and, without missing a beat, comment on what the other was wearing.
“I love those shoes!”
“Where did you get <insert item>?”
And so on.
I don’t ever hear people comment on each other’s clothes here. In fact, the one time a woman referred to my jacket as “schöner mantel,” I was taken aback. I just don’t overhear small talk about clothing or outfits (and yes, my German is advanced enough at this point that I pick up what I hear on the streets—somewhat).
Functionality first.
Things that are common in Berlin:
Biking anywhere and everywhere, no matter the weather
Public transportation (and jokes about its efficiency)
Cobblestone streets and sidewalks
Four distinct seasons, sometimes multiple in a single day
I have no doubt this influences what people wear.
I see it mostly with shoes. Boots of all varieties are wildly popular—particularly Dr. Martens or similar. Naturally, Adidas sneakers are common, but so are big, clunky athletic trainers. My first winter here, I learned the importance of high-quality socks and shoes. And I’m still scratching my head as to why I bothered bringing any of my heels at all. I truly don’t envision them ever coming off the shelf.
Turns out, I still like what I like
That sensory awakening I felt when we moved here? It shook my style confidence a little bit. And as you might imagine, that felt super jarring as someone who’s felt pretty comfortable in her style for years, not to mention someone whose job is helping other women figure out their personal style.
I wrestled with what to wear more often than I care to admit. I even talked about it here, here and here. Despite that, I didn’t make any sweeping changes. I just sat in it and let everything settle in. It wasn’t always comfortable, and I didn’t always like how I looked. And those days still pop up now and again. But I keep going back to what I like and what feels like me (looking at you, white button-ups and, at the moment, all the linen). And that’s when I feel the best.
