In a stifling vintage furniture warehouse in Alt-Treptow—its air thick with humidity and history—Haderlump unveiled a collection that did more than withstand the heat: it transcended it. With Johann Ehrhardt at the helm, the SS26 presentation unfolded not as a spectacle, but as an intimate ritual of rediscovery, rooted in memory, craftsmanship, and the silent poetry of forgotten things.

At the heart of the show stood a cuboid monolith cloaked in thousands of antique ex libris bookplates—each a quiet emblem of private ownership and timeless beauty. This centerpiece set the tone: one of archival reverence and symbolic storytelling, a yearning for the tactile in a world of swipe and scroll.

The garments followed suit—voluminous, thoughtful, and emotionally complex. Haderlump’s tailoring continued to impress, with bias-seamed sleeves, cotton drill, and glazed leather jackets offering a study in controlled movement. The iconic greatcoat reappeared in distressed, embroidered wool—part soldier, part prophet—its presence mythic and magnetic.

And yet, there was softness. Ehrhardt took a bold step this season, turning to draping techniques inspired by toga-like illustrations in the very bookplates that began the journey. Flowing silhouettes, cinched waists, and gossamer gowns introduced a new lexicon: one of spiritual elegance, almost monastic in restraint, but rich in emotion.

Gender was fluid by design, not declaration. A pleated skirt over tailored trousers, a hooded blouson shaped like a monk’s cowl—these were not just garments, but narrative devices, each look whispering a story of duality and coexistence. There was street and sacred, masculine and feminine, structure and dissolve—an exquisite tension held in every seam.

Haderlump SS26 was not about chasing trends or shouting themes. It was about listening—to history, to craftsmanship, to the fragments we carry forward from the past. The sweltering conditions of the venue may have echoed global anxieties, but the collection itself chose lyricism over alarm, memory over spectacle, and fragility as strength.

This season, Johann Ehrhardt wrote a love letter to forgotten artistry, filtered through Berlin’s streetwise lens and softened by a gentle, intellectual grace. In doing so, he expanded the soul of Haderlump—rooted in grit, but now flowering in quiet beauty.