The Swedes are big on celebrating Midsummer. There are maypoles and dancing, flower crowns and feasting on pickled herring and strawberries. After their long, cold, monochromatic winters, I completely understand why. Having visited Rosendals Trädgård, the garden beside Rosendal Palace, in September, January and June, I have seen the colours at full volume, then gone, then slowly coming back.

Celebrating a riot of colour in the summer may be more than just an escape from the monochrome of winter. Just walking around the streets of Stockholm, it’s striking how many people choose to wear muted, neutral colours. This sense of restraint has been attributed to the Scandinavian concept of Jantelagen, or the Law of Jante, which originated in Aksel Sandemose’s satirical novel A Fugitive Crosses His Tracks (1933). It can largely be summed up as: don’t think you’re anything special, and don’t think you’re better than anyone else. This attitude became widespread during the mid 20th century, when Sweden was governed by the Social Democrats, who were in power from 1932-76. They emphasised collectivism over individualism, and that was reflected in the way people dressed: not being flashy or sticking out, and instead choosing stripped-back clothing and restrained designs. (Or maybe the Swedes are just really into minimalist design.)

Anyway, whether Jantelagen has anything to do with it or not, I was struck by how little colour I saw on the streets. Occasionally someone would go past in a bright outfit, but it was quite unusual. Still, I did my bit by wearing a red skirt.

The last time I walked to Rosendals Trädgård, the paths were covered in snow and everyone was wrapped in coats, hats and scarves. This time, the sun was out, people were in T-shirts, and summer seemed to have arrived all at once.

Walking to Rosendals Trädgård has become a ritual for me, and it felt like a wonderful way to celebrate Midsummer in Stockholm. After months of muted colours, the gardens had other ideas. Roses climbed over arches, flowers spilled from borders, and every corner seemed determined to remind visitors that summer, however brief, had finally arrived.

Perhaps that is why Midsummer feels so special in Sweden. It is not simply the arrival of summer, but the return of colour, light and life after a very long wait.

kirstin