Bird + Wolf sits comfortably in the growing space where fashion stops chasing the new and starts interrogating what already exists. The brand works with garments that have lived before , ex-army jackets marked by use, time and purpose and instead of wiping the slate clean, it leans in. Scuffs, creases and fading aren’t corrected; they’re curated. In a culture obsessed with polish, Bird + Wolf treats wear as a form of truth.
This is circular fashion without the buzzwords. Not a neat sustainability slogan, but a quiet refusal of the linear model that dominates the industry. Clothes here are not born disposable. They are repurposed, re-entered into the world, and allowed to keep evolving with the body that wears them. The result feels personal, almost intimate — no two pieces quite the same, no story fully finished.
The name itself feels symbolic in a way that resists over-explanation. The bird suggests movement, release, the instinct to look forward. The wolf grounds things, loyal, resilient, protective. Together they speak to a tension that feels very now: softness paired with strength, vulnerability worn as armour.
Bird + Wolf isn’t trying to reinvent fashion. It’s asking why we ever decided it should be disposable in the first place.
