90S REDUX. WHAT'S THE FUSS?
Look anywhere in fashion today and you will see the 90’s inflection everywhere. From dad sneakers, to belt bags, combat boots (I’m looking at you Bottega) to slick minimalist chic slip dresses – the 90’s are a source of continual inspiration.
For years, the fashion world has been culling references and riding the waves from prior decades which resurface in cyclical manners every 10 to 20 years. From monochrome palettes, slick minimalism to angst ridden grunge, the 90’s style and cultural tropes have become THE hot topic among millennials seeking nostalgia for an era they did not live in. (Nostalgia is a big thing with millennials, I’ve been asking around so you don’t have to. A yearning for something they did not have - yet wish they did - because what they currently have is well, sub par).
For those of us lucky to have been there and done that, this 90’s revivalism is a re-loop to an era where everything seemed cooler. A purity of design. Grit before commercialization. A healthy dose of grunge and non PC behavior, like smoking and exposed nipples.
ANDROGYNOUS FASHION. MONOCHROMATIC DRESSING. MINIMALIST CHIC.
These were all the fashion iconography that defined the 90’s and simultaneously defied the industry’s standard of beauty. Gone were the big bosomed, toothy, blue eyed, blonde haired 80’s Glamazons that had stomped catwalks, monopolizing magazine covers. In their place was a new army of waif like nymphs, led by the inimitable Kate Moss with her snaggle-tooth grin and unnerving childlike Lolita innocence. Along came Stella Tennant and her blue-blood aristocracy, androgyny and septum ring walking for Chanel, followed by Jenny Shimizu and her counter-culture tattoos, short hair and confrontational gaze. A new breed of androgynous creatures in amorphous defying, unisex fashion.
These boyish girls with their painfully thin countenance, stringy hair, hollowed cheeks, deadpan expressions rejected conventional ideas of beauty and gave rise to a tribe of quirk that was a stark change to the excess of the decade before. Seeing them slink around in minimalist outfits was like ripping off the band aid from the 80’s. Farewell ruffles, may you rest in peace. In its wake was a monochromatic way of dressing, favoring a restricted palette of black and white. Maybe grey if you were feeling frivolous. If waifs and their unique brand of “heroin chic” were the alternative beauties of the 90’s, then Helmut Lang was the honorary god-father of androgynous fashion and minimalist chic.
If waifs and their unique brand of “heroin chic” were the alternative beauties of the 90’s, then Helmut Lang was the honorary god-father of androgynous fashion and minimalist chic.
Subversive. Sexy. Simple. Cerebral. Counter-cultural. Yes, you felt haughty in Helmut.
The minimalist clothing procured by Austrian born Helmut Lang, with its razor cut tailoring, sleek, clean lines and expertly constructed deconstruction provided its wearer with an air of elevated, intellectual cool. Shrouding oneself in monochromatic dressing suggested ease and elegance, but also a disdain for gaudy embellishment and giddy color. Lang introduced concepts that still hold true today - a high stake on corporate cool, occasion agnostic dressing, gender fluidity and a non-elitist mix of high/low permutations. Technical nylon and cashmere had the same weight and consideration. Ditto for leather and latex.
Welcome to “Gang Lang” where everyone vied to belong to the androgynous, uni-sex, monochromatic outfitted tribe of understated cool. The discord was clear. NO, YOU CANNOT SIT WITH US. And fuck, did we want a seat at that table!
I can personally recount the tireless hours spent hunting down those painfully cool Lang pieces, scrounging up enough cash for a perfectly distressed slither of a denim skirt with exposed pockets. All white, of course. I tried. I really tried for that dead-pan, severely understated look. But my curls and my tan got in the way (its difficult to look effortlessly emaciated with a healthy tan and full head of unruly 80’s curls) . Never mind, 20 years on that appeal and insouciance still resonates today - if not for the same emotional reasons of belonging to a particular set of the self-marginalized few - then perhaps for the practicality that a minimalist wardrobe provides.
As stated by minimal-chic advocate Mariella Agapiou, founder and writer of the Monochrome.style blog – “I personally have a very distinct sartorial uniform: a muted, monochromatic color palette and minimalist mindset. Leaning towards black and white color-ways makes sense to me in terms of sustainability. Investing in good quality items in similar colors ensures that my wardrobe is more interchangeable. Opting for high quality craftsmanship of things in black or white means I won’t get bored of them or feel the need to replace them if the color no longer feels appropriate or fresh.”
Whether stemming from a deep-rooted, romanticized nostalgia for an era that was seemingly inherently cooler (Gen Xers can vouch that it was), the 90’s style tropes represent a cultural energy and story that is still prescient for today’s generation in the form of “modern vintage”. How they interpret it and make it their own is the inherent beauty of fashion history.
Us Gen Xers may be loosing our edge, but we were there the first round, and well, our 90’s were certainly cooler than yours.
(Drop mic.)