I just got back from a whirlwind trip—four days in hilly Norway that included two nights in Bergen, half a day in Stavanger, and a day and a half in Oslo. Along the way, we hopped on planes, trains, buses, and ferries to meet with some of Norway’s leading fashion brands—not just any brands, but those working closely with land, animal, and history, to craft some of the most impressive wool garments I’ve ever seen.

It was a hectic schedule. Beyond just the fashion brands, we got a taste of what the land has to offer by eating at some of the finest restaurants (my favorite was Cornelius). Working at odd hours (thankfully, 4:00 a.m. jetlag helped) and in odd places (scenic bus rides, long ferry crossings), the seasick nausea was a small price to pay for the chance to see how Norway approaches slow fashion in a way that feels entirely different from the States.

This trip couldn’t have come at a better timing. I’m personally in the midst of overhauling my old shopping habits in favor of purchasing high quality, long lasting items. Chasing cheap thrills and ephemeral trends has put me face to face with a pile of clothing that I now only see as trash. It’s sad, but it’s the truth. It’s what inspired my Worth The Splurge series, where I highlight investment-worthy finds that could last for generations.

Seeing how the Norwegians worked hand-in-hand with their land, their animals, and quite frankly, their competitors was awe-inspiring. Using wool sourced directly from alpacas grazing the hillsides, they spun each thread into thick yet surprisingly soft sweaters and blankets that I longed to get my hands on.

We talked over meals sourced from the neighboring farmlands while a 3D knitting-machine worked hard on some last minute items for the Spring/Summer ‘26 collection, to be showcased a few days later at Oslo Runway. It felt like a 360-degree experience: Everything I was eating, seeing, and wearing could be traced back to its origins in just three simple steps.

Visited the National Museum in Oslo to learn more about the history of Norwegian fashion

It may have been my ignorance, but all of this work seemed to come completely naturally to the women running these businesses. Perhaps it’s because working with wool has been a part of Norwegian tradition for millennia, as evidenced by our trip to the National Museum in Oslo. They really weren’t making a show out of their sustainable practices, the way some brands do here. If a US-based brand is eco-conscious, then it’s all over its marketing lingo. I don’t think I heard the word “sustainability” uttered once during this press trip, and yet, it was in every step and in every garment. I’ve seen 100% polyester pieces sell for $900 in America. But in Norway, a 100% home-grown wool sweater would retail for roughly $400. It’s an honest and fair reflection of the work and material that goes behind producing the cozy knit.

It was also interesting to see how none of the brands badmouthed one another. No sly comments or attempts at one-upping each other. No matter how you look at it, these wool-focused brands are clearly competitors to one another. And still, they spoke of each other as friends, complimenting their designs, offices, practices, etc. This wasn’t the winner-takes-it-all capitalistic approach I knew so well. Weirdly enough, it made me love their pieces even more—they were spun out of love, not out of greed.

Since I was already on my way to purchasing only sustainably-made clothing, you can bet that I’ll be investing in more Norwegian-made clothing in the future. I invite you to do the same, starting with some of the brands I visited, below.