By Rebecca Ceccatelli. Cover image by Margie Mitchem for I’M Firenze Digest, inspired by the 90s Vogue cover featuring Kate Moss.
Why does In Vogue: The 90s evoke such nostalgia?
Imagine yourself sitting around a majestic round table, large enough to accommodate all the guests needed to host a perfectly executed ’90s revival dinner. Picture being in the New York studios of the most famous designers, or at Bar Luce in Milan by Wes Anderson, or in Madonna’s apartment. This dinner takes place everywhere and nowhere. Now, imagine that the first person to take their seat at the table is Anna Wintour’s deus ex machina, who slams down piles of the most iconic Vogue editorials from the ‘90s onto the wooden surface.
Next to her, a lineup of legendary names: Stella McCartney, Kate Moss, Victoria Beckham, Claudia Schiffer, Tom Ford, Kim Kardashian, Nicole Kidman, Marc Jacobs, Miuccia Prada, Naomi Campbell, Grace Coddington, John Galliano, Andrew Bolton, Misa Hilton, Mary J. Blige—and I should probably stop listing each of these guests before we become too overwhelmed in front of such an impressive group of people. Where am I? Perhaps in a dream, or maybe at a high school reunion, where former classmates gather to reminisce about the days when pencils sketched innovative patterns and the best performers brought them to life.
You’re exactly in In Vogue: The ’90s, the most iconic TV series of recent times (on Disney +). It is perfect for anyone embarking on a journey to explore the ‘90s era —whether they lived through it or, perhaps unknowingly, are children of that era, discovering their authentic heritage through the docuseries. The docuseries format proves once again to be an effective means of storytelling, following in the footsteps of popular biopics (like the recent Back to Black on Amy Winehouse) while still honouring the objective nature of documentary filmmaking. It merges these two styles into a narrative that feels like a true story, where the direct involvement of key figures enriches the storytelling and enhances the authenticity of the material.
Picture yourself sitting at this golden table. In front of you, a television plays the stories of each guest, supporting them visually, while Anna’s magazines slowly emerge from the stack and appear one by one. This sets the stage for discussions that begin with the question: “Do you remember when…?”
Why In Vogue: The 90s is your front-row seat to Style History
Do you remember when Vogue was so boring? The arrival of Anna Wintour
In the series, Anna Wintour is seen looking at some covers of Vogue editorials before she became editor-in-chief. The magazine’s covers featured models with voluminous hair, childish makeup, big earrings. “Why did Vogue name me as editor-in-chief if this all is so dull?”, she questions.
Today, it’s clear that Vogue is Anna Wintour and Anna Wintour is Vogue: you discuss the fashion bible without mentioning Anna. In fact, she played a pivotal role in reshaping its vision.
“Vogue could never be Madonna at the time,” says Anna, but at a certain moment, it happened. Indeed, the woman with her iconic sleek bob and ever-present sunglasses shielding her discerning gaze redefined the magazine, giving it a new, authentic edge—more real and less dreamlike. By surrounding herself with a brand-new team of individuals who could challenge conventional thinking, Vogue transformed from being a glossy, idealised version of the city woman’s dreams into her very embodiment, including her less palatable sides, whether you liked it or not.
Anna compares Vogue’s transformation to the societal shift that Madonna herself represented. For the first time, a pop star graced not only the magazine’s pages but, above all, its cover, bridging the worlds of fashion and celebrity. The photo shoot that welcomed her was not in some abstract setting but within her own home, where she was dressed in magnificent gowns. This marked the union of the magazine with pop culture—a bond that would never be broken.
Pop music injected new energy into Vogue, and Anna Wintour recounts this evolution with pride
Do you remember when models on covers started to have names? The rise of supermodels
Naomi, Linda, Christy, Cindy. Do these names mean anything to you? If you look closely, they’re sitting right there at the table with you, occasionally chiming in to share their part of the story.
Yes, it’s them—the stars of George Michael’s Freedom! ’90 music video, one of the first where the artist’s presence was replaced by actors, or in this case, the most famous models of the moment, fresh off the cover of Vogue. These were models who, for the first time, weren’t anonymous and unattainable but rather women you could bump into on the streets of New York and call by name. They were no longer silent and poised figures on the pages; they were more real than ever. Fashion’s anti-glamour became glamour itself, as attention shifted from the clothes and accessories the models wore to the models themselves. It marked a turning point where people, not objects, became the focus of fashion editorials—and soon, of fashion as a whole.
When you think of the ’90s, you inevitably think of Kate Moss, with her slightly wide-set eyes, blonde hair, and small teeth, giving her an unusual yet ethereal beauty. She seemed to pop up everywhere, becoming the face of all the top brands of the decade.
Events like Calvin Klein’s rebranding perfectly exemplify the idea of “authenticity” entering the world of fashion. After designing a new logo, Klein sought to create a new, recognisable style, starting with non-traditional models. He saw Kate Moss’s potential early on, when her manager introduced her to him at his apartment. As they sat on the floor, with Kate on a rug, they talked. He told her, “This is how I want you to pose in my next shoot, not to pose at all as a matter of fact”.
These words secured her position and turned her into the Kate Moss we are familiar with today. The resulting advertisement was unique not only because of the unknown model but also due to the presence of a famous rap star alongside her. With Marky Mark by her side, high fashion merged with music stardom, and the campaign went viral for both the brand and the model, or rather, the anti-supermodel – 100% real and 100% the soul of the ‘90s. Kate not only challenged the prevailing standards of beauty, leading some models to lose work, but she also introduced a new ideal of freedom. At the table, someone is heard whispering, “Before Kate, I was tired of trying to be a pretty girl”. And here, everybody recalls with nostalgia the times when they were all young and growing up together, mixing their egos with the spirit of the time.
Do you remember when Marc Jacobs got fired from Perry Ellis? The rise of grunge
Fashion quickly became an extension of life for the youth of the ’90s. Fashion wasn’t just about work; it was a space for self-expression, almost like a piece of clay to mould at will. As tastes changed, fashion had to evolve too.
These were the years of shared youth, living the best days of life together, hanging out in pubs and non-glamorous clubs. Whether you were a supermodel or just an ordinary person, you lived the same type of life. Even Kate Moss reminisces about the underground scene in ‘90s London, where she lived in comfortable clothes and shared bedsits with friends. These were the years when fashion rebels found representation in larger, established arenas beyond just a night out. This newfound representation allowed them to experiment even more, translating their lifestyle into their clothing. i-D magazine emerged around this time, finding success in its founding concept—representing the streets. It featured the cool kids rebelling against the system, offering an alternative way of being young. From this, the grunge style emerged, beloved by the youth and despised by the veterans of glamour.
Grunge was the opposite of glamorous, rooted in dark music, finding space in urban landscapes with duck boots, tattered shirts, and visible underwear. Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love were its devoted representatives. Messy hair and baggy pants embodied the attitude of a generation that now seemed “poor, joyless, and non-coverable,” as Anna Wintour described it. However, Anna, what about that Grunge & Glory article that appeared in one of your editorials? That’s where Grace Coddington, a colleague of Anna’s with whom she had a love-hate relationship, came in. While Anna disliked grunge, Grace loved it and was determined to feature it in an editorial shoot. That iconic shoot, photographed by Steven Meisel, was groundbreaking. Though it celebrated the spirit of the new generation, not everyone was ready to see a model dressed so simply, almost naked at times, in her London flat. It was scandalous, showing her very thin body, and was soon dubbed “heroin chic.” However, the intention was not to create voyeuristic images of “the girl next door”, but to depict young people photographing young people. Criticism escalated when Marc Jacobs created the “Grunge Show” for Perry Ellis—a runway full of roughly chopped dresses, clashing patterns, and layer upon layer, all worn with Dr. Martens and Converse. Now that grunge had attained the runway, it was the climax. Everything seemed random, but it was the reflection of an inner explosion. The result? Marc was fired. Many criticised Vogue for featuring grunge, a theme they felt didn’t belong in a fashion magazine. Yet, at the same time, a new generation of designers was emerging.
Do you remember when fashion became art? The impact of McQueen
From such a grunge context, a new wave of creativity in fashion production was bound to emerge. Who are the new designers making their mark? Who wants to speak? Although Lee can no longer do so, many join the discussion to honour the magnificent work that Alexander McQueen did in the ’90s in London, characterised by recklessness and breaking boundaries.
It was a time when everyone influenced everyone, and everything influenced everything. London was alive, and those who lived there often studied at Saint Martin, a place you had to go if you were in search of the best talents in town.
McQueen studied here and immediately demonstrated his skills as a master tailor, capable of creating architectural masterpieces from fabrics and materials. He birthed something unique in London, playing with his dual nature: wild and sophisticated. “I guess I destroyed the fashion industry from within,” he says in the interview that we are watching on the television in front of us. All he cared about was to piss off as many people as he could, but at the same time, the youth loved him.
The pinnacle of his brilliance was the Dante Show, where not only a skeleton sat in the front row but perverse and dark masks adorned the models, many of whom wore deer or unicorn horns yet were dressed in sophisticated fabrics like lace and silk, creating a general chaos that quickly became scandalous.
In those years at Saint Martin, the fashion world seemed to favour the motto “the weirder, the better you are”. Stella McCartney, a contemporary of McQueen, initially gained attention for creating garments with the most unconventional materials—including spaghetti. However, she later returned to traditional fabrics and light silks, reconnecting with a more classic style. The collection she presented at her school runway show caused a stir, earning coverage in numerous newspapers. This success led to her being appointed as the creative head of an established French house like Chloé, despite being a freshly graduated young Londoner.
Still, in the context of the ’90s, Stella incorporated elements from the 1970s that she mainly found in her mother’s wardrobe, enhancing them with a romantic and sexy vibe. She chose the Opéra de Paris as the venue for her first runway show, a fitting location for a return to glamour.
London was a mix of glam and grunge, and not all older people loved old-style fashion, just as not all young people liked the most popular trends among their peers. This contrast is a key feature of the 1990s, which we’re discussing at this table today.
Do you remember when Sex and The City made the Fendi Baguette famous?
Do you remember when Elizabeth Hurley attended the premiere of the film Four Weddings and a Funeral in her Safety Pin Dress by Versace? The dress became so popular that it even got its own page on Wikipedia. In an explosion of sexuality and freedom, Versace aimed to bring back glamour with the sole aim of transforming women into goddesses, just like the Hollywood stars wanted to feel.
During this time, celebrities started to steal the spotlight on the cover of Vogue from models, presenting themselves as the new stars of fashion, blending the worlds of cinema and popular celebrity with couture. In those years, Nicole Kidman appeared at the Oscars in her Galliano for Dior dress, widely regarded as the most beautiful dress of the evening. The dress attracted over 54 million women to Dior, solidifying a close relationship between fashion and celebrity that was almost interdependent. Hollywood had made its mark on the fashion industry, and fashion eagerly embraced its stars. The industry organised events to bring them together and showcase their finest outfits. This gave rise to the famous Met Gala as we know it today, which turned into a social event. Fashion houses competed to dress the most important celebrities at this event, understanding that a single fitting at the Met equalled the visibility of 10 shows. Additionally, fashion made its way into cinema with Unzipped, the first documentary about the backstage aspects of a fashion collection. The film covered all the behind-the-scenes moments of an Isaac Mizrahi show, capturing both the joy and complications of the process.
Over time, cinema started influencing fashion trends, and the industry began to capitalise on this. Not only films but also TV series, like the iconic Sex and the City, became so significant that they featured brand names, logos, and even filmed scenes in ateliers (like Dior’s Parisian fashion studio) to create the ideal image of a woman like the character Carrie, who gets mugged for her Fendi Baguette. From then on, fashion houses started to focus more on TV, establishing a new connection between entertainment and fashion. Did everyone appreciate it? It depends. Some saw it as commercialising the act of making fashion, leading it to lose its aura. Others saw it as an opportunity to bring fashion into people’s lives and get closer to the audience they wanted to reach. In any case, Anna Wintour loved and still loves it and continues to tell Grace Coddington to “Move on Grace, just move on”. Of course, who could not be happy with this shift in fashion if not Anna’s ying–yang person?
Finally, do you remember when we all got plagiarised by Dapper Dan? The establishment of the logo as a decorative element
The discussion is nearing its end when one of the final topics of this walk down memory lane is addressed. It all starts with Misa Hilton and Mary J. Blige recounting a time when they were shopping, and some high-fashion stores refused to accept their credit cards because they didn’t think the two young Black women could afford the dresses they were trying to buy.
For the hip-hop star and her stylist, it was such a scandal that they felt like the fashion world had a general hatred toward the Black community, especially since Black people were rarely featured in publications like Vogue.
The Black community found its own way to participate in the great wave occurring in the fashion industry through their representative, Dapper Dan. He noticed the iconic LV monogram pattern on a woman’s Louis Vuitton bag in New York, and decided to transform this logo repetition into his distinctive brand. He began creating garments for rappers from his community, incorporating logos and symbols that reproduced those of major fashion houses. His designs became popular and started to spread. Oversized Gucci sweatshirts, Fendi hats, and Polo t-shirts appeared when those brands had not yet ventured into ready-to-wear clothing. The phenomenon became global and caught the eye of major fashion brands, leading to legal action against him. Despite this, his impact on the fashion industry had already been made.
Moving to more recent events, do you remember the Louis Vuitton fashion show of 2023, which focused on streetwear and logo repetition? Now, who was copying Dapper’s initiative? Or can we not speak of copying, as he tells us during our discussion at the table, but rather of “importing elements from other cultures into our own”?
This marks the end of a journey through memories and different opinions in an industry so vast that it can’t only be described as singular but rather as one containing multitudes. Today, we watch the series from the comfort of our sofas, fantasising about the backstage of McQueen’s shows and photo-shoot sets for Vogue. We wonder if, despite being such a recent era, it has already become history or if, in some way, it still lives within us, within the fashion of our 2020s. However, the theme of last year’s Met Gala (Reawakening Fashion: Sleeping Beauties) might suggest that we are still not completely ready to let our beloved 90s slip out of our minds.