Danish designer Bonnie Hvillum talks sustainable taste

My personal style signifier is my silver and amber engagement ring, which is almost like a wearable sculpture – I feel empowered when I have it on. My partner proposed on our 10th anniversary in the middle of the street in Edinburgh during Hogmanay. We designed the ring together with jeweller Wette Mille, who has a small workshop in Copenhagen – it was a great process.

The last thing I bought and loved was a book about German-born American artist Eva Hesse. I got it from P3 Annihilation Eve, a book and record shop in Manchester, and I’m totally engrossed. Hesse created these incredible hanging textiles, and her minimalistic approach really resonates with me. I saw some of her work at the Whitney and MoMA in New York last year but didn’t know much about her: it’s been fascinating reading about her background. 

My stomach doesn’t function if I don’t have a raw carrot every day

The place that means a lot to me is a tiny campsite on a rocky island called Bornholm in Denmark, where I’ve been going for the past eight years. It’s fantastic waking up by the water, catching prawns and playing in the rockpools with my kids. There’s live music every evening at the little café by the beach; we often go for a glass of wine with our camp friends while the children play volleyball or swim. It doesn’t feel like summer if we haven’t had our annual trip there.

And the best souvenir I’ve brought home is a set of brown-beige ceramic bowls that I found in a vintage shop on Bornholm. I use them every day. They have a southern feel that’s great in winter. 

I have a collection of chickens. I had eight but a fox caught some in the spring so I’m now down to five. They’re all different colours and characters, and we’ve named them: one is called WALL-E – she’s really bossy – and then there’s Eva, who is very sneaky and steals food from the others. We also have Robin, Batman and War Machine. Having chickens is a win-win because they’re pets but we also get eggs, and we can feed them our leftover food.

An easy way to help change the world is to buy better and buy less. Whatever we buy should be circular, biodegradable or recycled. It’s about being more educated and curious about materials, and more critical about what products are made of. 

A career highlight was my installation at Copenhagen’s 3 Days of Design earlier this year, White Utopia, which resembled the interior of a futuristic home. It was made entirely using a single biomaterial base formula that was developed and produced by Natural Material Studio. The walls were crafted using flexible biotextiles; the seating, bed and sofa were made with soft biofoams; and structural elements such as the tables were created using a solid biocast. It would be interesting to have it installed somewhere so that visitors could book in for the night to experience what it would be like to live with these materials of the future. 

My style icon is my eight-year-old daughter Polly, who has this really free and intuitive way of dressing. She chooses her clothes very carefully in the morning, and changes them throughout the day. One time she woke me up in a catsuit – I wouldn’t necessarily wear the same clothes, but I love the way she combines things in such a natural way.

The best gift I’ve given recently is my homemade wine. I live in a little farmhouse on the outskirts of Copenhagen and there are about 50 vines in the garden. Last year, my partner and I made our first batch of natural wine but had no idea what we were doing and some of the bottles exploded. Six months later, we opened one of the surviving bottles and it actually tasted pretty decent, so we started giving it out and people seem to really appreciate it. The wine has a nice cloudy, peachy colour, but it’s a little bit strong so you have to drink it moderately. 

And the best gift I’ve received is a mother-of-pearl bracelet that I wear on special occasions. It was given to my great-great-grandmother at the end of the 19th century by the brilliant Danish writer Karen Blixen as a thank-you gift for being her personal dresser. My mother gave it to me when I graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Nordic literature and art, which felt particularly special because I had been reading and analysing Blixen’s books. Wearing the bracelet reminds me of the power of gratitude, and I look forward to giving it to my own daughter one day.

The last music I downloaded was by Lana Del Rey. Her sound is unique and her songs are almost like poems. I’ve been rediscovering some of her older albums including Ultraviolence and Lust for Life; she’s one of those artists who grows on you as you dive deeper into her songs.

A material with hidden potential is grass: you can extract a lot of protein from it and it’s very fast-growing. It can be found all over the world, so it doesn’t have to be transported everywhere. The fibres can be used for various things like insulation and reinforcement. I’ve been involved in a few research projects around grass and would love to dig more into it.

The best way to spend €20 is at the fruit and vegetable market across the road from me. On a Sunday I go and get locally made ice-cream – salted caramel or sorbet if it’s hot – or fresh produce that I don’t grow myself like artichokes and lemons, or exciting fruit that my children have never tasted before. I have quite a big kitchen garden and hope to be self-sufficient at some point – but I’m still learning how to do it in the healthiest way for both the soil and insects. 

My favourite room in my house is the kitchen, which is a playground for me. I love making food, inventing things as I go along; I don’t follow recipes. As we’ve been renovating the house for the past few years, the kitchen is sort of temporary, but I’ve been dreaming of having open shelving on the wall and a big kitchen island. For the refurbishment, I’ve been working with natural and breathable materials: the walls are clad with clay and chalk, the roof is slate, and I’ve used Douglas pine that flooring company Dinesen was unable to sell due to small flaws in the planks. 

In my fridge you’ll always find a lot of eggs because of the chickens, plus kimchi, rye bread and some sort of fish. 

The last item of clothing I added to my wardrobe was a pair of black vintage Maison Margiela heels. They’re simple at the front, but the heel resembles a plastic cup turned upside down. I’m a huge fan of the brand because it’s playful and material-orientated; it makes us reconsider what fashion is – a type of art rather than just a commodity.

The things I couldn’t do without are carrots. My stomach doesn’t function if I don’t have a raw one every day, so I always carry them in my bag with me. 

An indulgence I would never forgo is a morning cup of black, slightly fruity coffee from Coffee Collective or La Cabra. I live close to the sea and a few times a week I go for a swim before work; when I get out, I sit in the sun to warm up and drink coffee – it tastes 10 times better. 

The objects I would never part with are a collection of handblown glasses that I made with my friend Alexander Kirkeby in his workshop about four years ago. He’s become really successful, so it’s fantastic to have some of his early glasses that aren’t fully defined. They’re all sorts of shapes and quite organic-looking, with different textures and movement to them. 

The beauty staple I’m never without is Maison Margiela’s Replica Jazz Club fragrance, part of a collection of scents based on memories. I also have When the Rain Stops from the same line. Another is Typology’s Firming Night Serum Botanical, which really brightens everything. I worked with the brand this year on its first physical space at Printemps Haussmann in Paris, creating display pieces using a bio-textile made from reishi mushrooms. Maison Margiela Replica Jazz Club and When the Rain Stops, both £120 for 100ml EDT. Typology P63 Firming Night Serum Botanical Blend with Nopal, £57.90 for 30ml

And my beauty and wellbeing gurus are the founders of three Danish skincare brands: Andrea Elisabeth Rudolph of Rudolph Care, Marianne Tromborg of Tromborg and Mette Skjærbæk of Karmameju. Their products are created with the vision of eliminating toxic chemicals from skincare, proving that natural products are not a compromise.

My favourite app is secondhand clothing platform Vestiaire Collective. I love the thrill of finding something really good, so I do more hunting than purchasing. I try not to buy anything new but it can be hard, especially when it comes to things like shoes for my children. 

The works of art that changed everything for me are by the artist Anselm Kiefer. I was introduced to him through Karl Ove Knausgård’s book Skoven og Floden (The Forest and the River), in which he struggles to explain Kiefer’s work, concluding that we can’t really put visual art into words. I first experienced Kiefer’s pieces for myself at the Finnegans Wake installation in London’s White Cube; the scale and range of materials were just incredible. I get this bodily experience whenever I see his work, and it makes me see the world in a renewed way; it gives me the feeling of being set free.

The podcasts I listen to tend to be about creative processes and problem solving – like Design Emergency and How to Fail – but lately I’ve started listening to a lot of political podcasts. It’s a heavy subject to read about, but hearing different perspectives from experts is really interesting. Some of my favourites are Stjerner og striber (Stars & Stripes), Genstart (Reboot) and Damerne først (Ladies First). 

My children make me laugh. The two of them – Polly and my six-year-old son, Viggo – are just so funny. They come up with silly things all the time: I wish I had a little notebook to write down all their quotes.

I keep rediscovering myself, finding new things that I can do in my studio, or that I’m curious about and want to explore further. I’m always open to new experiences and am eager to learn, which feeds into my practice: I’ve invented my own materials and keep discovering different ways that they can be used. 

My favourite buildings are in east Berlin. I like the rawness and unpretentious feeling of them. Berlin is one of my favourite cities: I love the culture and the electric energy, and it’s also where I met my partner, so it means a lot to me. 

On my Instagram “For You” page you’ll find videos of people making ceramics. Watching artists create repetitive patterns is really meditative, and the craftsmanship is crazy – sometimes I’ll see people from Japan making all these engravings in clay and then suddenly it transforms into a teapot. I try not to use social media too much but I can get drawn in – it’s a rabbit hole. 

I do believe in life after death. I have quite a fluid, holistic understanding of life; when I pass away, I think I’ll keep living on through my children and other people, so I’ll somehow still be here in the air that we breathe. I believe that the spirit becomes part of the universe, almost like matter. 

In another life, I would have done it all again. I don’t want to sound corny but I really try to live the life that I want to live. I’m good at being in tune with myself, and if there’s something missing or that I’m more interested in and want to move towards, I act on it. That’s the fortunate thing about being self-employed; I’m the boss and can decide where I want to go tomorrow and what direction I want to go in. 

I receive the best advice from my partner, who tells me to “keep going” when things are tough. The field that I work in is difficult – it’s complex inventing completely new materials that nobody knows anything about. I need a bit of encouragement.