Sometimes pastel, sometimes masculine, always funky and stylish as hell. Designer, mom of two, and all-around cool human Helene Vetik opens up her technicolor wardrobe for us today. We talk itchy childhood knits, the secret to growing into a cool person, and which clothing item we should all collectively erase from memory. Dig in, get inspired and prepare to re-think your sock drawer.
I have this memory from a kids’ illustrated Bible – how ashamed Adam and Eve felt when they realized they were naked. So I kind of got a clue that being without clothes was okay until you knew it wasn’t. Which means wearing something is more a matter of self than a matter of others.
One of my earliest clothing-related memories is of my mom stitching flowers, cut from old stockings, onto the torn knees of another pair of old stockings. I remember liking that there were flowers now, but hating how uncomfy the stitches felt against my knees. I also remember rough wool hats, scarves, socks, and gloves rubbing me raw in the winter – always itchy. I remember the frustration of getting gifts in the wrong color, and the joy of discovering second-hand shops where I could find something special for just a few cents.
Vintage sunnies from the Netherlands, biker shorts from Amazon, Iris Apfel jacket and shoes, Bowie shirt from Reserved men, bag from personal archive, Lidl socks. Pink plexi ring is a relic from '90s childhood.
I think I developed a sense of style very early on, and it started with wishing I lived in different decades. During preschool, we watched a lot of Beatles movies as a family, so I wanted to look like a girl – or a boy – from the '60s or '70s. Then I had a full-on obsession with the color orange and sometimes dressed head-to-toe in it. Later, when I was 12, I went to see some of Europe – Stockholm, to be specific – for the first time and saw people wearing nose rings, platform boots, torn bell-bottom jeans, and girls with short hair. As soon as I got home, I shaved my head and got a nose ring.
Vintage Baltika wool suit, vintage shirt from Hiiumaa, glitter boots from personal archive.
Around that time, I also got into anime, so looking like a manga character became inevitable. Then I discovered the Estonian punk scene, and my early teenage style became a blend of grunge, anime cuteness, and punk. I guess I’ve always felt a need to express myself by any means possible – be it a poem or a look. I wore my heart on my sleeve, very literally.
Cbetka store sunnies, Erdem sweatshirt, Crocs from Zalando, dress from personal archive.
I think some people are just lucky enough to have a support system that encourages self-expression – or at least family members who are too indifferent to intervene, treating style experiments as a harmless phase. But honestly, raising two very different, very stylish toddlers right now, I see how early on the society starts trying to dry us out. The simple key to growing into a cool person is – and always will be – not giving a fuck what others think about your looks. And comparing yourself to others is poison.
Dress and shoes from H&M Studio, vintage leather bomber from Hiiumaa.
Clothes give us a sense of belonging to the herd or the opposite: living out our main character syndrome. But not just clothes – tattoos, hair, jewelry, implants, and everything else. Whenever I see someone with an Adventure Time tattoo, I know they’re my kind of person. When someone recognizes the Sailor Moon symbol on my hand, their face lights up. Or when I spot a boy with pink hair or a girl with hairy legs, I know they’re already swimming against the current – and that sparks my interest.
Ennos suit, green Even&Odd boots, H&M Studio bag, Christian Dior glasses from Viuu.
I used to love hunting for special pieces, but I lost interest a few years ago. At some point, even the coolest vintage shop couldn’t excite me. Maybe it was the constant drops of clothes I didn’t even choose, sent for social media photoshoots, that drained the joy out of it. Fashion became work, not play. I felt conflicted about working with fast fashion brands and tried to make up for it by making those clothes last as long as possible – and not shopping at all. Plus, constantly shopping for two growing kids takes a wild amount of energy.
Adidas socks, Monki sheer dress, H&M Conscious Exclusive heels, vintage Louis Vuitton x Takashi Murakami bag, jacket from personal archive.
Fortunately, I’ve been fast-collab free for a while now. This spring, I finally walked into a second-hand store and bought five things just for me. It may sound small, but it was a big deal – my newest sneakers were already eight years old. So I wore all of my new pre-owned items in the same week and finally felt like me again. I guess special pieces make me feel special, and I’m learning that feeling special doesn’t require a special occasion.
Arket jeans and T-shirt, sheer Light On Mars skirt, Camper shoes.
Clothes do carry memories. Especially low-rise skinny jeans, which we can all collectively agree to forget.
Cubus dress from Aarete Laegas, Ida Tau harness, Fila sneakers, hat from personal archive.
Do I miss any of my old clothes? Honestly, I mostly feel relief when I let things go. It’s like anti-hoarding therapy. I’ve sold almost all of my silk bombers – and you always need a silk bomber – so sometimes, when I see old photos of me in one, I think, “Ah yeah, that was a good one.” But I’ll probably find it again somewhere.
Vintage pregnancy dress, Paavli second-hand blazer and shoes, Kenzo coat. Christian Dior glasses from Viuu.
In my everyday wear, I’m a comfy slob. I often throw on a cool hat to hide hair that hasn’t been brushed in days, and a huge pink T-shirt that’s so worn-out you don’t know if the stain is a statement or just ice cream. I like wearing shorts – I kind of feel like they make my legs look long and lean. For footwear, my latest obsession is a pair of brown Derby shoes from Camper, paired with sports socks. They’re super comfy but also make any look a little more formal and pulled together. So what matters is feeling soft and cozy, but still being ready to step into an event the moment Google Calendar rings. And yes, a red lipstick in the pocket is a must.
Whose style has caught my eye? My friend, director and photographer Eva-Liisa Orupõld, has an absolutely off-the-hook sense of style. She puts together feral pieces in ways I adore. My young friend Otto Savi is also someone to watch – his mind works in mysterious ways, and there are no limits to what he’ll wear. He inspires me to be the same. Another man-inspo is Dave from Lunacy of Flowers, who you can often see at Biit Me Record Store. He’s basically a walking style museum – a breath of unfiltered self-expression.
Then there’s local artist Sarah Nõmm, who channels this effortless, natural anime-girlie energy I love. And finally, Rebecca Künnis aka Beccu – she’s the total opposite. So refined, so deliberate in her choices. She makes me want to do better.