When we ask Fumina where she would imagine her first love in Copenhagen, she laughs softly before saying:
“Since I moved to Copenhagen five years ago, my first love happened in Japan. But if I were to fall in love with someone for the first time in Copenhagen, it would be cute if it happened at Tivoli Gardens.”
You can almost see it — the neon lights, the music, the feeling of something innocent and unguarded.
You can almost feel the stillness of a city that teaches you to love through silence.
IIn that vision, her Burberry cardigan becomes the heart of the story — draped over her shoulders like a secret she isn’t trying to hide. The knit is soft but precise, a quiet contrast to the noise of the carousel spinning nearby.
Burberry, here, isn’t about elegance — it’s about tenderness. The cardigan moves like a memory, holding warmth even when the wind turns cold. It’s the kind of layer that makes you feel seen — intimate, familiar, slightly nostalgic.
As the night settles over the city, her Burberry layers become a metaphor for the first moment of connection — that instant before words, when love feels both possible and unreal.
She doesn’t chase it. She simply lets it happen — the way light happens, or rain.
When we ask her what song feels like Copenhagen, she answers without thinking:
“If Copenhagen were a song, I think it would be Aliens by Kirinji — it feels gentle and calm, but also a little lonely.”
That loneliness — beautiful, quiet, intentional — lives inside her Chopova Lowena layers. The pleated skirt, the clash of textures, the attitude in motion — they speak of freedom and fleetingness, of the way love burns brightest when it’s brief.
Later, she adds:
“The kind of love I imagine in Copenhagen is something that sparks intensely in a small, intimate space, then quietly disappears as the seasons change. If I were to describe it with a movie, it would probably be Call Me by Your Name.”
And suddenly, everything about her look makes sense — the skirt moving with the wind, the knit still holding the echo of warmth, her eyes carrying that same softness of someone who knows love is temporary but chooses to feel it anyway.
Chopova Lowena becomes her emotional armour — chaotic but sincere, sharp yet full of heart.
It’s not about being perfect, it’s about being alive.
About loving like it’s both the first and the last time.
