āChimeā is a rural reverie in silver and stillness
- Photography:
- Ines Bahr, Andreas Hofrichter & Wout Vloeberghs
A Show That Begins in a Murmur
On the morning of July 1st, Berlin Fashion Week slows its pace as Milk of Lime unveils its third runway collection at Fürst. The venue is hushed and minimal ā more forest clearing than fashion stage. As the first model walks, silver bells sewn into garments whisper through the space. ChimeĀ begins, and for a moment, the industry holds its breath.
Designers Julia Ballardt and Nico Verhaegen build their collections in rural southwest Germany, away from the urgency of fashion capitals. Their vision is grounded, tender, and intentional. With Chime, they continue to craft clothing that isnāt just worn ā itās lived in. Time, memory, and tactility are the fabric of their process. Many pieces are made from deadstock, naturally dyed, and shaped by hand. But sustainability here isnāt a marketing layer ā itās an embedded rhythm.
This season, Milk of Limeās recurring character, the poetic rural punk, returns. Garments float, drape, cling. Lace frays, hems unravel. These are clothes for someone whoās been out in the weather and come back changed.
Youāve described the Milk of Lime āmain characterā as a rural poetic punk. What does that character feel, see, or fight against in SS26?
JULIA BALLARDT & NICO VERHAEGEN: The poetic rural punk sees and feels beauty, especially in its duality, that includes not only the pretty but also harsh and brutal things, as both sides of the medallion. They also rather fight for sincerity, honesty and whole-heartedness rather than against something.
Garments That Ring, Root, and Reveal
Silver bells dangling from hems or bundled into leather bouquets form the collectionās sonic spine. With every step, they ring, barely above a breath. The effect isnāt theatrical. Itās ancestral. Collective. Movement becomes sound; fabric becomes a score.
Can you tell us about the role of sound in this collection? The silver bells made the clothes not just visual, but almost musical.
JB & NV: The bells brought something archaic to the collection. In their sound, but also in their symbolism as this is an ancient artifact that is found in many cultures throughout human history. At the same time it also can be sweet and charming, especially when the fine sounds whisper through the air. In a way they make us more aware of our movements. And additionally there is something ritualistic about a whole bulk of people who wear bells here and there, that suddenly chime in unison, when walking closely together, almost like a tribe.
That sense of collective softness threads through the collection. Accessories are not afterthoughts, but central to the story. Sculptural belts in soft, weathered leather curve around torsos like memory or armor. The designs speak in dualities ā delicate but grounded, decorative yet utilitarian.
The accessory workāespecially the leather piecesāstood out for their softness and sculptural quality. How do accessories play into your storytelling?
JB & NV: Accessories are an essential part of our storytelling. Already from the beginning, we are weaving them into our designs. An early designed belt might define a later sketched jacket, but also the other way around. We are designing our accessories as carefully as our garments and pour a lot of love to detail into them.
Florals reappear throughout the show ā not as decoration, but as provocation. Here, they sting. The plants referenced are poisonous, wild, sharp. Theyāre not soft metaphors, but agents of tension. Like much in Milk of Limeās world, they operate in ambivalence.
The use of poisonous floral motifs is visually beautiful but conceptually unsettling. What drew you to that duality?
JB & NV: We embrace the whole natural scope and are willing to look into areas that are often left out. Poisonous plants can still be visually beautiful, some are only poisonous to our species in particular, and others are not just dangerous but healing, depending on the dosage. Isnāt it fascinating that nature is both, giving and taking?
Names Stitched, Stories Folded
Language doesnāt just appear in show notesāitās stitched in. Hidden among the looks are studded anagrams referencing Eva Weinkƶtz, a German poet and draughtswoman whose contribution lives quietly, almost invisibly, in the collectionās visual logic.
Eva Weinkƶtzās name appears as a studded anagram. Can you speak to the connection between her work and yours this season?
JB & NV: Eva Weinkƶtz is a draughtswoman and lyrical writer from Germany, who often connects those two worlds in her work: word and image. This collaboration started small and tender, just as a small contribution for our newspaper show notes. When Eva showed us her rich poem that evolved out of an anagram of a single sentence, we felt the need to project sections of it back into the visual work. With her permission, we extracted words from her work that resonated with our colour palette and mood. The result is a deeply connected work that does not reveal itās origin that easily, but rather makes each other better.
This kind of layered storytelling of threads becoming language, accessories shaping silhouettes, and garments ringing in step is where Milk of Limeās power lies. CHIME doesnāt push toward visual climax. Instead, it softens into stillness. A sense that something had been shared, not shown. That a place had been made, if only for a moment.
And that’s the thing with Milk of Lime, they donāt chase headlines. They write in margins. They leave space. And in that space, they offer not a story thatās finished, but one thatās ready to be remembered.