Dubai is a special city. Not just because of its scale or ambition, but because of the way it makes people imagine bigger versions of themselves once they arrive. Founders especially seem to tap into that energy quickly. They come here for one thing and end up wanting to become part of something larger. The city is made for dreamers, but driven by doers.
That’s the difference. Because being part of something means more than opening a store. It means belonging somewhere. Or at least being willing to earn your place there. Which is where Soulland comes in.
When the Copenhagen label opens its first Middle East store this summer in Dubai Hills Mall, it won’t be arriving like a brand trying to conquer a new market. Dubai has seen enough of that already.
Instead, Soulland feels more interested in understanding the city, finding its place within it, and seeing what that exchange could become over time. For founder Jacob Kampp Berliner, that way of thinking doesn’t come from strategy decks or expansion plans. It comes from instinct.
Before the Brand, There Was Energy
Long before Soulland was showing on fashion week schedules or being labelled “Scandinavian menswear” by people who love a neat category, it was something much messier than that. A little chaotic in the best way.
“When we started out, I was still very much shaped by the environments I grew up in; graffiti, music, youth culture,” says Berliner. “At that time, I wasn’t necessarily thinking about building a ‘brand’ in the traditional sense.”
“It was more about creating a language that could translate that energy into something more lasting. Something that carried the attitude and spontaneity of youth culture, but with a level of care and intention that allowed it to evolve over time.”
That push and pull still sits at the centre of Soulland today. The tension between impulse and precision. Between wanting things to feel raw, but still thought through. Like someone who knows exactly what they’re doing pretending not to.
“Soulland really started from that tension, wanting to express something that didn’t yet have a clear space within the Danish fashion scene.”
The Value of Not Explaining Yourself
Berliner didn’t come up through traditional fashion circles. No polished luxury pipeline or romantic atelier backstory. His education happened elsewhere – in graffiti, music, youth culture, all the spaces where people make things first and explain them later.
“Energy, everything we do is from energy,” he tells MOJEH MEN. “Graffiti teaches you to do things in your own way at the same collaborating with the people doing the same.”
And that mentality still sits underneath Soulland now. The instinct to create without waiting for approval first.
“You create without asking for permission, and you learn to rely on your instinct more than external validation. It’s shaped a lot of my youth to be part of something that was not talking to the broader society.”
Which maybe explains why Soulland has never really felt desperate to be instantly understood, and in the age of the algorithm – thats something unique.
“Today, that still influences how I approach both design and decisions. You have to be comfortable with the fact that not everything will be immediately understood, and that some things only reveal their value over time.”
And in fashion – where brands are usually busy screaming for attention before they’ve even figured out who they are – that patience feels surprisingly refreshing.
Dubai as a Conversation, Not a Market
Fashion brands usually come to the Middle East with a rollout plan and a very polished idea of who they think they’re going to be once they get here. Soulland feels a little different from that.
“There are many cities we could have chosen, but Dubai felt different in terms of timing and energy,” says Berliner. “It’s a place where different cultures actively shape each other.”
That seems to be the thing pulling him in most: the fact that Dubai still feels culturally in motion. Not unfinished, but open. A reason why many of us feel so connected to it.
“What interested me was that sense of openness. It feels like a city that is still defining parts of its identity, especially culturally, and that creates space for dialogue.”
That word – dialogue – comes up a lot when Berliner talks. Which makes sense, because Soulland doesn’t really operate like a brand interested in broadcasting. It’s much more interested in exchange. In communities. In what happens when different creative worlds collide a little.
“We’re not looking to enter a market just to be present, we’re interested in engaging with what’s happening locally, and seeing how our perspective can exist within that exchange.”
Unlearning Dubai
One of the things that stands out about Jacob Kampp Berliner is how openly he admits when his first read on something was off. Dubai, by his own account, was one of those moments.
“To be honest, my expectations weren’t very high at first. I assumed Dubai was mostly a place people moved to for practical reasons, but from the moment I arrived, it completely shifted my perspective.”
What changed wasn’t one specific thing, but the feeling of the place once he was in it.
“What struck me was how diverse, creative and multicultural the city is. There’s a very clear sense of structure and ambition, but also these moments that feel more genuine and unexpected.”
That balance – between structure and openness, ambition and ease – is part of what stayed with him. And it fed directly into how the store was approached.
“When approaching the store, it felt important to keep it grounded in our Copenhagen DNA; the simplicity, the restraint, but also to leave space for it to be shaped by its surroundings over time. Not something fixed, but something that can evolve.”
What the Middle East Gives Back
If Western brands once expanded outward to export, Soulland feels more interested in absorbing than exporting.
“I think one of the most interesting aspects of the Middle East is the relationship to heritage, it feels present and active, not something that sits in the past,” says Berliner.
It’s not just an aesthetic observation for him – it’s something more grounded than that.
“There’s a strong tradition of beautifully made fabrics, and a way of telling stories through details and patterns, which I find very compelling and would love to understand more deeply.
For Soulland, it’s an opportunity to reflect on how you can build something contemporary while staying closely connected to where it comes from, and how that connection can remain visible and relevant over time.”
The Risk of Slowing Down
Expansion today is usually about speed. More cities, more stores, more presence, faster.
Soulland isn’t really playing that game in the same way.
“There’s a risk in everything you do; I want to explore the opportunities Dubai offers.”
But for him, the bigger risk isn’t moving slowly – it’s pretending you already belong somewhere the moment you arrive.
“For us, it’s important to approach it with a certain humility; to listen, to take time, and to build relationships rather than move too quickly.”
It’s less about acting like a brand arriving in a new market, and more like someone figuring out how to actually be part of what’s already happening.
“That might not be the fastest approach, but it’s the one that allows something meaningful to develop. Otherwise, it just becomes another form of expansion without depth.”
Clothes as Code
“There are pieces in the collection that appear very minimal at first, but are built from quite specific references, it could be a traditional garment, a workwear detail, or something rooted in a particular subculture.”
The storytelling is embedded.
“Often, those references are embedded in the construction or the development of the fabric rather than being immediately visible. It might be the way something is cut, or how a material has been treated over time.
It’s not always about making the story obvious. It’s more about the piece carrying that depth, even if it’s not fully understood at first glance.”
When a Brand Becomes a Place
For Berliner, the most meaningful shift in Soulland hasn’t really been about how it looks. It’s been about how it behaves.
“There have been moments, especially around collaborations or events, where the brand becomes more of a meeting point than a product.”
That’s the shift that interests him most – when something stops being just an object and starts becoming a place.
“What we’ve built has come through countless parties, runs, dinners, collaborations, shows, travels, and new friendships. You start to see people from different backgrounds; artists, musicians, people from different cities, connecting through something you’ve created, and the conversation moves beyond the clothes.
One of the most inspiring parts has been seeing the people who have worked with us go on to build something of their own. That sense of continuation, of ideas evolving beyond the brand, is something I value a lot.”
What Success Looks Like Here
A year from now, the Dubai store won’t be judged – at least not by Berliner – on numbers.
“For me, success wouldn’t be defined only by numbers or performance.”
What he’s actually interested in is harder to measure. And a lot harder to fake.
“I would love for the store to feel like a natural extension of our studio in Copenhagen, a space with its own flow.”
Nothing overly designed. Nothing forced.
“Walking into it, I’d want to feel that it has developed its own flow, that people are spending time there, engaging with it in a natural way, and that it feels connected to the city.”
If that happens, the store has done its job.
“If it becomes a place where something can happen; conversations, collaborations, unexpected interactions, then it means we approached it in the right way.”
Because for Soulland, expansion isn’t really about geography. It’s about what happens between people.
And in Dubai, that version of the story is only just starting.
