Finnish dads are taking more parental leave than ever – let’s take a look

Last autumn, Evert learned to say pappa. He was just over a year old at the time, so the moment itself was nothing unusual. But the fact that he said “dad” before “mum” felt like a small miracle.

His father, thirty-something Eetu Järvinen from Helsinki, knows exactly why.

“It was thanks to parental leave,” he says.

Järvinen spent six months at home with his son after the boy’s mother, Edith, returned to work. He handled the meals, the naps, the nappy changes and the miniature dramas of toddlerhood.

There are places where that might raise some eyebrows. Finland isn’t one of them. It’s more common than ever before for Finnish dads to take parental leave.

A country of fathers

A man pushes a stroller along a residential street lined with a wooden house and a white picket fence.

When Järvinen became a stay-at-home father, it was summer. At that time, Evert was still taking two naps a day.

Finland is home to more than 1.3 million fathers, more than half the adult male population.

Fathers pushing prams have been a familiar sight in Finland for many decades, but parenting has become even more equal in recent years.

In 2022 Finland carried out a major reform of its family leave system, designed to treat both parents as equal caregivers from the outset.

The change increased the number of stay-at-home fathers and reshaped how families divide their parental leave time.

A baby with a soother in its mouth, wearing a blue hat and mittens, lies on a playground slide, viewed from above.

Järvinen has been there for many of Evert’s first moments, such as learning to use the potty, trying new foods, going swimming and attending music performances.

Parental leave is now divided equally between parents, although each can transfer part of their quota to the other.

Both parents are entitled to 160 “working days” of leave, of which 63 days can be transferred. (The definition of “working days” includes Saturdays, but not Sundays or public holidays, so one week usually counts as six days of parental leave.) In addition, the birth parent receives 40 days of pregnancy allowance before the baby arrives.

Taken together, Finland’s parental leave is among the longest in the world.

In addition, fathers in Finland can also make use of “child home care allowance”: If the family has a child under three, a parent or legal guardian can stay home to take care of them. Around 10 percent of fathers utilise this support, typically for five to six months.

Days shaped by small routines

A man in a beige T-shirt and black cap pushes a baby on a swing beneath a tree laden with red berries.

Järvinen’s employer supported his decision to stay home with his child for six months.

When Järvinen began his stint as a stay-at-home father in July, Evert was just under a year old. He could crawl and sit, but couldn’t walk yet.

Järvinen read him plenty of books. Together they marvelled at cars and dogs.

Their days soon settled into a routine. In the morning, father and son would walk Evert’s older sister, Ethel – three and a half years his senior – to daycare. In the afternoon they would pick her up again.

A person wearing glasses gazes off-camera, partially obscured by a grainy filter.

The hardest part of family life, Järvinen says, is sleep – or rather the lack of it. When the children are ill, nobody sleeps. “But somehow you get used to it.”

Between those small journeys the pair filled their time with playground visits, trips to the library, baby music classes and meetings with friends.

They practised eating, sitting on the potty, falling asleep for naps and, eventually, taking first steps. Järvinen baked muffins and omelettes for his toddler and discovered that fusilli pasta was Evert’s favourite meal.

A small child’s hand presses against a window, with a bright green landscape outside.

In late autumn, Evert began practising sleeping in his own bed. When it finally worked, Järvinen felt a real sense of achievement.

Meanwhile, there always seemed to be an ample supply of toys on the floor needing to be tidied up, not to mention pieces of pasta scattered in and around the highchair.

The windows slowly acquired an array of tiny fingerprints.

Learning to walk

An adult wearing glasses gently shades a toddler’s eyes with their hands as the child holds a small toy.

Workplace culture is important when planning parental leave: In Finland, taking leave is widely accepted, even if experiences still vary between sectors.

Evert learned to walk at the end of September. At first, his steps were hesitant. Soon they gathered speed. The world started to open up.

At home Järvinen rearranged the living room furniture so that the sofas formed a safe play area.

An adult sits holding a baby on their lap in a room with chairs lined against the wall, while another person’s legs appear in the foreground.

When Eetu Järvinen and Evert started baby music classes in the autumn, only a few fathers were in attendance. Six months later, every parent in the group was a dad.

Most of all, the toddler enjoyed emptying the contents of the cupboards onto the floor or pulling books from the shelves. Then he discovered climbing.

“That’s when the chasing really began,” Järvinen says, laughing.

For his first birthday, in October, Evert received a toy car.

“He’s completely fascinated by anything with wheels.”

A bundled-up baby sits on a forest floor surrounded by moss-covered tree roots and fallen leaves.

Evert spent the autumn and winter outdoors in the snowsuit that came with the Finnish maternity package.

When he sees a vehicle on the street, he says brr brr. When he sees a dog, he says hau hau. (These are the sounds Finnish children learn, equivalent to “vroom vroom” and “woof woof.”)

Järvinen describes his son as cheerful and easy-going.

“He accepts his fate,” he says with a smile – perhaps a classic second child.

Like many parents, Järvinen sometimes wonders how much of a child’s personality is innate and how much comes from the parents themselves simply becoming more experienced.

A gradual cultural shift

Inside a lift a man holds a baby who stretches an arm out curiously toward the control panel.

Parental allowance in Finland is earnings-related and paid by the Social Insurance Institution of Finland, with a guaranteed minimum for those without income. For many families, that makes staying home a realistic option for both parents, not just mothers.

Järvinen had taken parental leave before. When Evert’s older sister was born, he stayed home for three months. At the time, though, her mother was also at home, finishing her studies, and the coronavirus pandemic limited most activities.

A child holds a bowl of toys while another child lowers a whisk into it.

Although the parental leave reform is designed to treat both parents as equal, most of the transferable days continue to flow to mothers. This suggests that equality remains, for now, a work in progress.

While on parental leave with Evert, Järvinen was alone with the child.

“Everything was 100 percent my responsibility,” he says. “It created a different kind of bond.”

That experience is more common than ever in Finland.

Before the parental leave reform, 57 percent of fathers took their leave separately from the mother. Among children born after the reform, that figure has risen to 73 percent.

Fathers now utilise an average of 68 days of parental leave, equalling a time period of almost three months. Before the reform, the average was only 33 days.

A man adjusts a child sitting on his shoulders in a park with autumn leaves.

“We’ll have to see what kind of little speedster Evert turns out to be,” Järvinen says.

Even so, mothers still use most of the leave. Three out of four fathers shift all transferable days to the mother.

Change, it seems, comes gradually.

The bond that remains

A child in an orange hat sits on a swing in a snowy forest while another person stands nearby, partially hidden behind a tree.

Many of Järvinen’s friends are fathers as well, and some were on parental leave at the same time. “Our conversations have become very child-focused,” he says.

In November, father and son attended a music concert together. Evert was delighted.

In December, they visited the local swimming pool for the first time.

And when January arrived and it was time for Evert to begin day care alongside his sister, Järvinen joined in the orientation visits just as actively as Evert’s mother.

A young child stands on a kitchen floor beside an adult wearing slippers.

Sometimes Evert gets mischievous and pulls his sister’s hair. He also enjoys stealing and hiding his little brother’s socks.

Finnish fathers are also spending more time per day with their children than before. In 2021, they devoted an average of one hour and 43 minutes a day to caring for preschool children – about 40 minutes more than at the start of the 2000s.

Step by step, parenting is becoming more equal.

A toddler plays with colourful toys on a patterned rug while an adult sits nearby watching.

Evert has been fascinated by vehicles from a very young age. He gets excited if a toy has wheels.

Järvinen looks back fondly on his months at home.

“It was a lovely stage of life,” he says. “And my employer was very supportive and positive about the leave.”

That support matters now more than ever: The family recently welcomed a third child into the world. Järvinen already plans to spend another six months at home with the new baby, Elis.

A person pulls a red sled across a snow-covered field during heavy snowfall, with tall lamp posts and trees in the background.

In winter, Evert discovered the joys of sledding. “He didn’t seem to mind the cold or the snow at all,” Järvinen says.

Still, the best part of his time with Evert is simple: the bond they built.

“If he falls or something goes wrong,” Järvinen says, “he wants to come to his dad rather than his mum. That feels pretty special.”

By Emilia Kangasluoma, May 2026
Photos by Jonne Heinonen

Torilla tavataan: Where Finns meet when the country triumphs

Literally meaning “see you on the square” or “meet on the market square,” torilla tavataan captures the idea that everyone should gather to celebrate together. It’s a phrase Finns use when something of national significance happens. Sometimes they shorten it to torille – “to the square.”

Online, the phrase often appears in comment sections when Finland is spotted abroad – for instance, when TV host Conan O’Brien filmed an episode of his show in Finland. Finns will post “torilla tavataan” in response, echoing each other in a kind of shared, tongue-in-cheek celebration in the comments.

But at a moment of true national significance – like a major ice hockey victory or a Eurovision win – the phrase is meant quite literally. And it often turns into an exuberant display of pride, with people dancing, singing, waving flags and climbing on statues – some even swimming in fountains.

In Helsinki, the roads heading to Market Square may become blocked by the sheer amount of traffic, with people stuck in their vehicles honking horns and playing music in celebration.

Heading for the tori

A shirtless man raises his arms in celebration while standing in a fountain on Helsinki’s Market Square, with a crowd and a Finnish flag in the background.

Swimming in fountains has become a tori staple. This guy is celebrating Finland’s first-ever world championship in ice hockey in 1995. Photo: Matti Björkman / Lehtikuva

Although the ancient Greek agora held significance as a place of public assembly, Finland’s tori gatherings are part of a younger tradition. It all started in 1995, when the Finnish men’s national ice hockey team won its first-ever World Championship gold medal and fans gathered to celebrate on Sergel Square, in Stockholm, where the match took place.

The win came against Finland’s friendly rival Sweden – in the Swedish capital, no less. It has been described as a defining moment for Finns at a time when a deep economic crisis was putting the country under strain. The day after the final, as the team returned home, huge celebrations were also held on Market Square in Helsinki.

The following year, the team’s official slogan was “Tavataan torilla,” which later morphed into “torilla tavataan” (both versions have the same meaning, thanks to the flexibility of Finnish word order). Although the team came back empty-handed, the phrase endured.

A crowd of young people gathers at an outdoor celebration, with one person in monster-style face paint raising their hands.

When Lordi won the Eurovision Song Contest in 2006 with their monster costumes and horror-inspired style, some fans joined the celebrations in matching face paint. Photo: Pekka Sakki / Lehtikuva

Another major tori celebration took place in 2006, when monster-metal band Lordi won the Eurovision Song Contest with “Hard Rock Hallelujah.” Since then, further hockey victories have brought people together, to the point that newsrooms are often prepared to send photographers to their local tori whenever there is a chance of a big win.

Sharing in the celebration

Four fans in Finnish sports jerseys and novelty hats cheer and wave Finnish flags on a square in Tampere at dusk.

Tori celebrations, like this one in Tampere in 2022, give people permission to let loose and celebrate in the middle of the city. Photo: Jussi Nukari / Lehtikuva

Torilla tavataan is far from niche. It’s even included in Finland’s official national emojis, described as “the feeling when something so great happens, you just have to share it with somebody.”

In 2019, the men’s ice hockey World Championship final took place on the same night as the European Parliament elections. Based on media coverage, ice hockey clearly dominated: team captain Marko Anttila was mentioned almost twice as often as Eero Heinäluoma, the most visible election candidate.

Torilla tavataan celebrations may be joyful, but they can also be hard on Helsinki’s most famous fountain statue. Havis Amanda, dating to 1908 and known locally as Manta, was recently renovated, and nowadays a special fence is installed every time a large celebration is anticipated.

And although fans might be disappointed, Havis Amanda probably lets out a sigh of relief every time the opponent scores or the Finnish Eurovision competitor doesn’t bag a maximum score.

By Anne Salomäki, May 2026

Can Finland win Eurovision again? Meet the musicians everyone is watching

A full-scale replica of the Eurovision stage has been built inside a studio at Yle, the Finnish national broadcasting company, in Helsinki. Linda Lampenius, 56, and Pete Parkkonen, 36, are in a good mood.

They’re in demand – not just in Finland, but increasingly across Europe. We ask them about their first impressions of each other, and about what it feels like just before you step onto the stage. The Eurovision Song Contest is one of the world’s largest live music events.

Tell us about your first meeting.

Linda: One day I was in a studio with a team working on a song, and we needed the best male singer. The producer called you.

Pete:  Antti Riihimäki called and asked if I was interested in making a song with Linda Lampenius. I was like, “How about tomorrow?” And it actually happened the very next day.

What were your first impressions?

Pete: It was fun. I was like, “This song needs to be about ice and fire.”

Linda: And my team said, “Hey, we just said that!”

Pete: It kind of clicked very fast.

Linda: We started talking about dogs, because we both have dogs. And then we went back to the song.

Linda Lampenius gestures while speaking to Pete Parkkonen in a studio setting.

Linda Lampenius cites violinist Itzhak Perlman and pop stars Prince and Michael Jackson among her influences.

Linda Lampenius and Pete Parkkonen face each other on an empty stage, talking with theatre seating and equipment in the background.

The duo practised their stage show in Helsinki in April ahead of the Eurovision Song Contest in Vienna in May.

Pete Parkkonen and Linda Lampenius smile while talking together during an interview.

Pete Parkkonen is a fan of Dave Grohl of Foo Fighters and Lenny Kravitz.

Both artists were already well known in Finland before joining forces. Lampenius is internationally recognised as a classical violinist and became a global media personality in the 1990s, even appearing on the TV show Baywatch.

Parkkonen rose to fame in 2008 after becoming a finalist on the Finnish version of the TV singing competition Idols and has since released several successful albums.

They had never met before writing “Liekinheitin” (Flamethrower) together with Vilma Alina Lähteenmäki, Lauri Halavaara and Antti Riihimäki and entering Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu (New Music Competition), the contest that decides who will represent Finland in Eurovision.

How would you describe the song “Liekinheitin”?

Linda: Fire and ice. Lots of feeling and emotion.

Pete: It is an amazing song.

Linda: It is very strong.

Pete: Straightforward.

Linda: Like a rollercoaster.

What’s your earliest Eurovision memory?

Linda: For me it was in the 1970s. We watched it at home. Even if my parents were at the theatre in the evening [both parents were in show business], I always watched Eurovision.

Pete: I don’t remember the first one, but I remember my dad loving Modern Talking – even though they didn’t make it to the finals.

Linda: Which year was that? In 1984?

Pete: Can’t be. I was born in 1990.

(They laugh.)

Pete Parkkonen gestures while talking with Linda Lampenius backstage.

“Have you tried archery?” Lampenius asks Parkkonen. “You look like you are from Robin Hood, you know, a champion or older knight.”
“Okay let’s do that,” Parkkonen says.

“Liekinheitin” combines virtuosic violin, pop vocals and stage effects, including real flames.

Eurovision brings together performers and fans from across Europe and beyond. The 2025 edition attracted 166 million viewers worldwide.

What makes you most nervous about Eurovision?

Pete: Nothing about the song. I’m excited when we are about to go onstage, one or two minutes before the show. We know it’s going to be fully booked; there’s going to be 10,000 people there. I’ve heard the audience is loud.

Linda: There will be so much love. So many different people, but everybody loves the same thing.

Do you have a pre-show ritual?

Pete: For me, it’s breathing. Concentrating on breathing.

Linda: Usually, if I play in a concert, I like to be by myself. I hope we have some privacy.

Pete:  We hype each other up – tsempata in Finnish.

Linda: But a more calm, Finnish [type of] “hype it up.”

(Both laugh again.)

Linda Lampenius rests an arm on Pete Parkkonen’s shoulder as they pose together during an interview.

Pete Parkkonen has a background in pop rock music while Linda Lampenius started her classical music career as a child.

The duo have spent months rehearsing the song and its choreography. What began as a first meeting in the studio in August 2025 has turned into a close working partnership.

Any last-minute warmups?

Pete: Trying to get my heartbeat down before it gets really fast again.

Linda: Warming up is the most important thing. For the body, for breathing and singing, and for me because I have to run in high heels. Otherwise, it might not end well.

Who’s the better runner?

Linda: Him, of course.

Pete: But in high heels, her.

Linda: Because I have been rehearsing.

(Laughter.)

What if you swapped roles? If Linda had to sing and Pete had to play the violin?

Linda: Oh my…

Pete: She could sing! But when she tried to show me how to play [violin], my body was very sensitive to the sounds. So, it was kind of hell for me when I was trying to play. It hurt.

Linda: It wasn’t really beautiful, no.

Pete: I would need a room to practise for ten years.

Linda: But I would not dare to sing, either.

Pete Parkkonen and Linda Lampenius sit close together, smiling at each other.

If Pete Parkkonen and Linda Lampenius win the Eurovision Song Contest, they will go wild with joy – and so will the rest of Finland.

Finland has seen strong Eurovision results in recent years, with Käärijä finishing second in 2023 and Windows95man drawing international attention in 2024. Many still remember Lordi’s 2006 victory with “Hard Rock Hallelujah.” Could this be Finland’s moment again?

How would you dance if you won Eurovision?

Linda: We have a cool one. What was it?

Pete: Two-stepping around.

Linda: If we win, we might not do that.

Pete: I would explode.

Linda: If I do it here, my children will kill me. But if we win, I’m going to go nuts. That’s a deal.

Text and photos by Emilia Kangasluoma, May 2026

 This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Finnish contemporary circus piece Tempo tours Venice, Singapore and more

The two-week dance programme of the Venice Biennale in summer 2026 consists of more than 60 new works, with Kalle Nio’s Tempo the sole Finnish representative.

Tempo features text, movement and hypnotic stage illusions where time runs backward, gravity disappears and the laws of nature dissolve. In the piece, created together with Brazilian choreographer Fernando Melo, Nio combines visual theatre, cinematic expression, contemporary circus and new magic.

Tempo premiered last autumn at the Helsinki Festival. It has garnered significant international interest, and starting in spring 2026 it tours a range of countries, from Singapore to Portugal.

Finnish artists have not often been seen in the performing arts programme of the Venice Biennale. Tero Saarinen’s Hunt was featured previously in the dance lineup, in 2002.

Finnish entrepreneurs’ innovative office pods mix tech and design

Samu Hällfors and Vesa-Matti Marjamäki were annoyed at their boss. He had a habit of making loud phone calls in their company’s open plan office, disturbing everyone as they worked.

“Vesa-Matti complained about the noise and our boss said, ‘Well, I have to call our customers, so build me a phone booth to use.’ Vesa-Matti and I decided to do exactly that,” says Hällfors.

The pair had an entrepreneurial mindset and realised this could be a great business opportunity. They founded the company Framery in 2010 to build the modern equivalent of a phone booth. From such humble beginnings, the company now has almost 500 employees and is listed on the Nasdaq Helsinki stock market. But it hasn’t been easy.

“Creating a pod was 100 times more challenging than we expected,” says Hällfors, CEO of the company. “Our first version was barely acceptable. It took us five years to get the product right.”

A product with conflicting requirements

Framery CEO Samu Hällfors sits at a small table inside a glass-walled office pod.

Framery CEO Samu Hällfors sits inside one of the Finnish company’s soundproof office pods, designed to create quiet, private spaces within open plan workplaces.Photo: Guillaume Roujas/Framery

Open plan offices are popular because they are flexible and use less space, perfect for modern hybrid working. Yet there are tradeoffs, such as a lack of privacy for important conversations or quiet for work which needs concentration.

“We had to build a product with contradictory requirements,” Hällfors explains. “It needed to be perfectly sealed for privacy. Even a 1-millimetre gap in a seal would ruin the soundproofing. However, for ventilation we needed a big hole which allows 25 litres of air per second to circulate. So in essence we became experts at soundproof ventilation systems.”

Framery needed to become experts at quite a few things, such as acoustics, lighting, climate control and product design. The end result is a selection of sleek, modern booths with seats, desks and connectivity. They don’t take up much space but appear larger from the inside thanks to the glass walls. The booths have an understated, Nordic minimalism quality to them.

Made in Finland

One of Finnish company Framery’s soundproof phone booth with desk and stool stands in a dark acoustic testing chamber with patterned sound-absorbing walls and strip lighting overhead.

Photo: Framery

They offer four types of booths, ranging from a compact pod for one person up to a mini meeting room for six. While offices are the most common places to find a Framery product, the booths are surprisingly versatile. Hospitals use them for doctor-patient consultations, while podcasters have discovered their acoustic qualities. They are used in airports, malls and libraries, and even in a few private homes.

“I’ve heard an opera singer uses one of our booths to practice at home. Opera singers aren’t a big market for us, but that is still pretty cool!” Hällfors laughs.

The booths are designed and manufactured in Finland and shipped around the world. Geographically, Europe is Framery’s largest market, followed by North America and Asia.

“Finland is a very good place to be for a global business like us, with 95 percent of our revenue coming from abroad,” Hällfors says. “The Tampere area has a legacy of high-tech development dating back to when Nokia had a huge R&D presence here. Today we get a lot of our talent from the universities in Tampere.”

Making an office “smart”

Three employees talk inside a glass office pod made by Finnish company Framery while colleagues collaborate in an open workplace lounge using a whiteboard mounted on the pod’s exterior wall.

Photo: Framery

Framery has plenty of experts in product development, manufacturing and supply chains, but they recently needed to find more talent when they expanded into software. They have developed smart office solutions to complement their booths, such as space management and wayfinding systems so workers can find and book offices or Framery booths.

“We are integrating more technologies into our physical products to make life easier and the experience better for the end-users,” says Hällfors. “We also have solutions for property managers to understand and optimise how their space is being used.”

It took more than four years for Framery to reach a million euros in revenue, and now they are approaching 200 million. They have developed an innovative solution for the hybrid way of working and see more success to come.

“We are investing for the future and I’m excited about the continued integration of software and physical product,” Hällfors says. “We want the Framery experience to begin as soon as a person enters a building.”

By David J. Cord, May 2026

In Oulu, northern Finland, cultural events you don’t want to miss

Programme picks you don’t want to miss:

Summer Night’s Dinner In Summer Night’s Dinner guests share local dishes at a kilometre-long table. The more adventurous foodie might try rössypottu, a dish made of pork and potatoes, recently rated the worst food in the world. August 15, 2026.

Dalia Stasevska stands in front of a wall, smiling over her shoulder at the camera.

Dalia Stasevska

Beyond the Sky brings space within reach. The project blends art, science and technology, reflecting astrophotographer Jukka-Pekka Metsävainio’s photos of distant nebulae on the ceiling of the Oulu Hall event centre. The Oulu Symphony Orchestra brings Lauri Porra’s evocative musical composition to life, conducted by Dalia Stasevska.
 November 19–21, 2026.

A man sits on a wooden bench in a sauna, throwing water from a ladle.

Olosauna is a modern village sauna.

The Art of Sauna The unique wonders of Finnish sauna culture will present themselves to guests at Tuira Beach, located by the Oulujoki river delta. Visitors can rent mobile saunas made of plywood, each fitting up to ten people at a time. Throughout the year.

Untamed Office is an urban production agency that recruits teams of young adults to bring Oulu to life. They organise clubs, street festivals, design events and exhibitions on Pikisaari, an island inhabited by artists and the creative class. Throughout the year.

Hydropower plant series This experimental opera series takes over the hydropower plants of rivers Oulu and Emä. Performances will spread to the vast area from Suomussalmi to Muhos. The series explores the harnessing of the rivers from the 19th century to this day. You can even experience shows at the bottom of the river! Throughout the year.

Ekho Collective: Layers in the Peace Machine
The immersive installation is based on the literary work called Peace Machine by late researcher Timo Honkela. The artwork sheds light on the concept of building peace and will be influenced by audience members’ peace-related memories, collected in 2025. Throughout the year.

By Kristiina Ella Markkanen, ThisisFINLAND Magazine
Photos: Lumi Ripatti, Kevin Kallombo

In Finland, swimwear isn’t just for summer

It’s not easy being the CEO of a Finnish swimwear brand. Both Salla Maisonlahti, cofounder of Halla Halla, and Laura Saarinen, founder of Lilja the Label, have the same question topping their FAQ lists: Aren’t your summers really short?

“First: Finns know how to make the most of every season, so people wear swimwear all year round,” Maisonlahti says. “And second: we don’t only sell swimwear to Finns. It’s always summer somewhere!”

Saarinen, too, points out that Finland has a wonderfully – and exceptionally – diverse swimwear culture.

“Our sauna culture as well as our ice swimming and cold-water swimming culture ensure that for us, swimwear isn’t just for summer and travel,” she says. “That’s the message we want to take abroad, too.”

And the message has indeed travelled. Halla Halla ships its products all around the world, although Finland remains its strongest market. For Lilja the Label, 80 percent of sales are international, with the biggest customer base in Scandinavia and German-speaking Europe.

Sustainability as the guiding principle

A woman in a red one-piece swimsuit with adjustable side ties leans against rocks, shading her eyes from the sun.

Many Lilja the Label products are adjustable, so that slight changes in body size don’t need to mean buying new swimwear.Photo: Anna Kozhemyakina / Lilja the Label

For Halla Halla and Lilja the Label, sustainability is a central part of their approach to design and manufacturing. Their products are made of Econyl, a fabric made from different types of nylon waste, such as discarded fishing nets. Whenever possible, both brands make their swimwear reversible, so customers essentially get two styles in one product.

Lilja the Label’s products are manufactured in Portugal, and Halla Halla collaborates with a factory in Bali, Indonesia. Maisonlahti’s cofounder Hanna Chalvet lives in the area and visits the facility on a weekly basis.

Three women in colourful patterned swimsuits stand together by a pool, smiling and laughing.

Halla Halla products can be spotted on dry land as well, as the colourful prints make for great summer festival gear.Photo: Halla Halla

“Sustainability is like an umbrella on top of everything we do, be it what happens in our Helsinki shop or what we pack our products in,” Maisonlahti explains.

Saarinen says that Lilja the Label focuses on neutral colours, classic designs and adjustability. This way, the swimwear won’t go out of fashion and can adapt to some changes in body size.

Although sustainability is the backbone of every decision Saarinen makes as the CEO, the core of Lilja the Label’s mission is to make excellent swimwear.

“It’s not enough to be as sustainable as possible. We also want our products to be as good as possible,” she says. “Swimwear is intimate and sensitive, as people are rarely as exposed in public as they are when they wear a swimsuit. We want them to be so good that people want to put them on again and again.”

Both brands also want to serve various purposes. All three businesswomen are avid surfers, so Halla Halla and Lilja the Label want to provide for those who need their outfits to suit demanding water sports; and those looking for good times and minimal tan lines can go for less coverage. The products aren’t strictly for water-based activities either: Maisonlahti frequently spots Halla Halla products on people doing yoga or partying at festivals.

Creating space for community

A woman floats on her back in deep, rippling water, wearing a one-piece swimsuit, with her arms outstretched and eyes closed.

Lilja the Label has taken its swim clubs abroad, spreading the word about cold-water swimming.Photo: Fiia Ketonen / Lilja the Label

Both Halla Halla and Lilja the Label are also keen to create occasions for putting on swimwear. Halla Halla has a set of sauna discos – yes, discos in a sauna – lined up for the coming summer.

“It’s a playful new concept where sauna culture meets music and socialising,” Maisonlahti says. “Inspired by similar events trending across Europe, the idea is simple: heat, good music and people coming together to have fun in a uniquely Nordic way.”

Lilja the Label has organised swim clubs both in Finland and abroad, inviting locals in different cities to get together for cold-water swimming and to get to know the brand.

“As our business is mostly digital, we wanted to find a way to connect with our customers,” Saarinen says. “Our swim clubs have been a powerful way of meeting clients and bringing a physical element to our brand.”

Even in neighbouring countries, Finnish sauna culture seems to have an almost mystical element to it. Saarinen has noticed that people taking part in swim clubs have plenty of interest in and questions about sauna etiquette and all the dos and don’ts.

“We’ve ended up becoming sauna and cold-water swimming ambassadors abroad, which is of course really lovely,” she says. “But we’ve also noticed how much people are longing for community and genuine encounters.”

The best feedback Saarinen has received is when people tell her that they’ve become friends with people they’ve met at Lilja the Label’s swim clubs.

“It feels so valuable that we’ve been able to create a space for encounters that goes way beyond swimwear.”

Text by Anne Salomäki, April 2026

Finnish artist turns shifting winds into immersive art at Venice Biennale

Marking the 70th anniversary of the Pavilion of Finland, Frame Contemporary Art Finland commissioned and will present Aeolian Suite by artist Jenna Sutela at the 61st International Art Exhibition of La Biennale di Venezia, on view from May 9 to November 22, 2026.

Curated by Stefanie Hessler, Aeolian Suite unfolds as a multisensory environment, transforming the pavilion into a windscape of sound and movement. The artwork is composed using meteorological data, musical instruments (such as a clothesline, wind machines and a children’s woodwind orchestra) and the winds from Venice, Helsinki and beyond.

“The pavilion whisks us into an expanded conversation with the atmosphere – one that moves between scientific measurement and poetic intuition, between control and surrender,” says Hessler.