Born in the Alps but resistant to cliché, Montà doesn’t romanticise the mountain — it listens to it. Where performance-wear chases altitude records and fashion flirts with nostalgia, the brand moves differently: grounded, restrained, almost meditative. Rooted in the logic of the traditional Haferl shoe and guided by the quiet resilience of the Alpine Rose, Montà builds objects that don’t shout for attention but endure it.
In a moment where speed defines style and everything feels designed for the scroll, Montà proposes another rhythm — one shaped by landscape, memory, and the radical softness of restraint.
We spoke to the founders about clarity, pink-tinted postcards, and why true strength never needs to dominate.
Montà is born in the Alps — how do you capture the mountains’ spirit in a pair of shoes?
For us, the Alps are not something to conquer, but something to respect. Montà grows from that attitude. We think of the mountains as a lived landscape — a place you move through daily, not a backdrop for performance. There’s clarity there. Restraint. A certain calm. That’s the spirit we try to translate into the object.
The Alpine Rose is delicate but unyielding. How does this tension shape your designs?
The Alpine Rose survives because it adapts rather than resists. That idea shaped the entire collection. Strength is present, but never loud. Delicacy is visible, but never fragile. We were drawn to that quiet balance — forms that are resilient and protective, yet soft enough to remain human.
The Haferl shoe has centuries of history. How do you make it feel contemporary without losing its roots?
The Haferl was never ornamental — it was a response to terrain, weather, and work. That honesty makes it timeless. We didn’t modernize it through irony or nostalgia, but by staying close to its original logic and translating it into a contemporary language of proportion, material, and restraint. It becomes modern not by changing what it is, but by allowing it to speak clearly again.
The Alps have inspired thinkers and artists for centuries. How do their stories live in your work?
Many went to the Alps to regain clarity — to step away from noise and return with something essential. Montà is shaped by this idea of retreat as something productive, but also by the sheer beauty of the place. We try to evoke that yearning — not just for the Alps, but for the mountains as a state of mind.
Your campaign glows in rose-tinted light. Is it a filter, a mood, or a manifesto?
The Alpine Rose — present in our logo — is pink. That’s what first brought the color into the universe, followed by the pink colorways of the shoes. For the launch, we were inspired by artists like Ull Hohn and Ryan McGinley — a romanticized Alps, but still grounded. The photographic approach nods to Richard Mosse’s infrared work. And there’s also something of the postcard — we kept asking: what if that imagery felt contemporary again? Beautiful, but aware.
Montà is unisex. How does fluidity influence the way you design and tell your story?
It was never a question for us — it was simply a given. Beyond practicalities like sizing and distribution, we never framed it as a discussion. The shoes are designed around use and presence. Resilience and delicacy coexist — but we don’t assign those qualities to gender.
Ottilie Roederstein and Elisabeth Winterhalter’s bond is a muse for you. How does “strength in delicacy” guide your vision?
Their relationship carried a rare calm and courage. It existed without spectacle, yet with determination. That sense of strength expressed through restraint feels deeply aligned with Montà. We’re interested in resilience that doesn’t rely on hardness — in objects and lives that endure through attentiveness and precision.
Your images hover between reality and dream. How do you turn a landscape into poetry?
By allowing it to remain slightly unresolved. The Alps are physical and demanding, but they’re also shaped by memory and projection. We didn’t want to document them — we wanted to stay close to how they linger in the mind.
It should feel grounding. Something that doesn’t demand attention — unless it’s the pink version — but supports movement and presence. These shoes are made for walking, in cities as much as in the mountains. And even in the mountains, it’s less about performance and more about simply being there.
In a world of fast fashion, how do you make a shoe feel eternal — an object of memory rather than just style?
By designing with time in mind. Through resilient construction — like double stitching. Through materials that age rather than deteriorate, that can be repaired. And through forms that resist urgency.
