Why are we so obsessed with the ‘90s?

At some point, we’ve bumped our heads and woken in a ‘90s fantasia. In this new-old world there are cargo pants, slip dresses and swooning for Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy’s minimalism. Kate Moss is on the runway. Oasis keeps going on tour. Nevermind (in the words of Nirvana) that it’s 2026. The cultural moment appears fixated on the last decade before smartphones, social media and algorithmic feeds took over. A time when IRL was the only life.

If the ‘80s was bombastic excess, the ‘90s United Kingdom was the epicenter of stripped-back rebellion. In 1996, “Trainspotting” spat out “Choose Life” in rejection of middle-class consumerism, and creatives embraced a new, raw aesthetic. You saw it in the decade’s indie mags, hip hop and messy beds of Young British Artists.

Now the UK’s gritty DIY creative spirit is the focus of an exhibition opening Thursday at London’s Tate Britain: “The 90s: Art and Fashion.” Curated by former British Vogue editor-in-chief Edward Enninful, the show features over 100 era-defining images, sculptures and outfits.

Among them, artist Vinca Petersen’s sprawling collage of photos, flyers and diary entries capturing underground rave scenes across the UK and Europe. In hazy images, friends gather around homemade sound systems or crash out in the aftermath of warehouse parties. One entry reads: “July 10th. Party in a bomb crater. Sunday spent as usual dancing like a loon with other loons until the sun gradually started to force everyone to laze around in the hot sunshine.”

“The reason why a lot of young people relate to it so much, is they think of it as the last pure time when you could just go out and do whatever you wanted and not be captured,” said Enninful of the pre-smartphone era, at the show’s opening. “We would literally go from clubs to work,” remembered Enninful, who in 1991 became the youngest fashion director of UK style magazine i-D, aged 18. “Little spritz,” he added with a laugh, mimicking deodorant under the arms, “and then go to work, or go sleep on the sofa. That was our life.”

One young fashion photographer who made a name for himself at indie mags like i-D with his unpolished images of a teenage Kate Moss, was Juergen Teller. Very soon, modeling agencies were sending girls to Teller’s London studio for “ go-sees” in the hopes of being hired, and he documented hundreds of these doorstep interactions –– dozens now on show at the Tate. There’s something quietly captivating and a little uncomfortable about the pavement snaps of girlhood; some teens accompanied by mothers, others affecting nonchalance, or standing on their hands to get attention.

“For me, what was interesting, was to see very different, diverse people,” Teller said via email. “I wanted to democratize the process of finding new faces. Also, it helped me to photograph everyone, not only someone I liked or was inspired by. I gave everyone the same amount of concentration and time.”

Juergen Teller/Courtesy Tate Britain

Elsewhere, the exhibition’s pictures of sweaty London dancefloors by photographer, DJ and broadcaster Normski, give the vivid sense of moving amongst the heaving crowd. Even now, Normski talks with infectious enthusiasm about the dawn of UK hip-hop, its deconstructed street style, and the galvanizing moment American acts like Public Enemy and Wu-Tang Clan came over. “It’s very important to be part of the scene, not an observer looking in,” he said in a phone interview of today’s so-called content creators.

Back then, subcultures had time to grow deep community roots away from an instantaneous online audience. “Sadly, there is no underground now, because everything is ‘transparent’ –– a word I completely hate. Be solid, be opaque, be full!” said Normski. “We did have longevity because we weren’t selling ourselves out, we were just creating. Some of the new underground scenes, they’re not underground –– because I can see them in my face.”

Normski/Courtesy Tate Britain

Every generation goes through cycles of nostalgia, but Gen Z’s longing for a time that predates their memory feels like a cerebral exit ramp for the mess we’re in. Amid warnings of AI apocalypse, consumerist churn and chronic loneliness, the ‘90s offers a digital-analog sweet spot. A middle-class household might have had one computer with internet; accessible but not following you around all day. “When we ask young people to describe what really interests them about this time period, they talk about wanting more intentional relationships with tech,” said Clay Routledge, a psychologist specializing in nostalgia. “It’s not a rejection of technology. It’s more a sense of how do we get the balance right.”

This goldilocks amount of new technology in the ’90s also fostered a uniquely creative period. With home computers and early laptops, came the bedroom producer: “You could make your own music, in your own house,” Normski recalled. “You didn’t need a lot of stuff to make a lot of noise.”

The dawn of the internet and email meant the UK in particular was no longer “this cold, rainy island, disconnected from everywhere else,” said Paris-based American fashion and culture journalist, Dana Thomas. In 1994 the Eurostar highspeed train between London and Europe opened, accelerating the cross-pollination of cultures and ideas. Two years later, Thomas declared London “the coolest city on the planet” in a Newsweek international cover story.

Jon Shard/British Culture Archive/Courtesy Tate Britain

All this creative energy needed somewhere to create –– and it found it, in the abandoned industrial warehouses of London and Manchester, and across the Atlantic in New York. Young artists could bypass traditional gallery spaces. Ravers had somewhere to gather. But while our online worlds have since expanded, the real-world space for anarchic creativity has shrunk.

Artist Petersen recalled the artistic freedom that came from living in London squats (empty buildings without the owner’s permission). “If you don’t have to worry about finding your rent, you don’t have to work as much. Therefore, what do you get? You get time. And when you have time, that equals creativity.”

Psychologist Routledge believes such nostalgia can actually drive innovation. For today’s youth, the ‘90s is a new discovery, said the author of “Past Forward: How Nostalgia Can Help You Live a More Meaningful Life.” “The nostalgia they’re feeling has this almost future-orientated feel to it, where it’s like we’re mining the past for ideas of ways of doing things, that would be new and fresh for us in this era of overwhelming technological overload.”

Thomas sees other powers at play. In fashion, “very few people have an original idea anymore,” said the author of “Fashionopolis: The Price of Fast Fashion and the Future of Clothes.” Of the handful of designers who do, she pointed to Rick Owens and Iris van Herpen –– “they’re not even of today, they’re what we’re going to be wearing in the future.”

Guy Marineau/Conde Nast/Courtesy Tate Britain

on Naso/NY Daily News Archive/Getty Images

Luxury fashion, Thomas continued, is now caught in a cycle of keeping up with fast fashion, where new clothes are churned out every other week. But “creativity takes time,” she added. “So what do you do? You just keep looking back to the past and recycling the ideas because you just can’t keep up.” The Carolyn Bessette Kennedy-look is “kind of uniformish,” said Thomas. “This is why the marketing department doubles down on ‘let’s keep recycling the ‘90s’ –– because it’s easy to wear, therefore it’s easy to sell.”

Of course, plenty of things about the decade are better left behind. Thomas pointed to the “gigantic problem” of heroin chic, and recalled a photographer friend showing her the raw images of a model with track marks.

Elsewhere, fashion magazine editors are no longer the ultimate gatekeepers of style. “The internet has democratized fashion, and I do think there are perspectives that were being lost in the earlier era that now have an outlet,” said Michael Grynbaum, author of “Empire of the Elite: Inside Conde Nast, the Media Dynasty that Reshaped America.” Still, amid the cacophony of influencers, “the sort of expertise and discernment that Vogue represents, still has a place,” he added.

Enninful recalled how in the ’90s, “as a Black person, I was one of the few people in my industry.” In his very first issue at i-D, he tried to get a Black model on the cover and was told no. “We’ve progressed but we’ve also gone back,” said Enninful, who last year launched his own quarterly magazine, called 72. “I’ve seen black models disappear for 10 years… and I’ve seen them come back again.”

Courtesy of the Corinne Day Estate/Tate Britain

Conversations that started in the ’90s around race, identity and sexuality are still relevant now, said Enninful, acknowledging “it’s a tough time for young people.” Petersen also was struck by the seriousness of today’s youth. “The weight on them is much more than the weight that was us,” she said, adding “they seriously have to knuckle down if they’re going to do anything.

“They don’t have that early adulthood of freedom, that maybe we had.”

不知何时，我们仿佛撞到了头，醒来发现自己置身于90年代的奇幻世界。在这个新旧交融的世界里，工装裤、吊带裙随处可见，人们为卡罗琳·贝塞特-肯尼迪的极简主义风格倾倒。凯特·莫斯在T台上走秀。绿洲乐队的巡演仍在继续。别在意（借用涅槃乐队的歌词）现在已经是2026年了。当下的文化氛围似乎还停留在智能手机、社交媒体和算法推送出现之前的十年。那是一个只有现实生活才是唯一生活的时代。

如果说80年代是浮夸的奢靡，那么90年代的英国就是返璞归真的反叛中心。1996年，《猜火车》中那句“选择生活”是对中产阶级消费主义的反叛，创意人士们拥抱了一种全新的、原始的美学。你可以在那个年代的独立杂志、嘻哈音乐以及英国青年艺术家们凌乱的床铺中看到这种风格。

如今，英国人坚韧不拔的DIY创意精神成为周四在伦敦泰特英国美术馆开幕的展览“90年代：艺术与时尚”的焦点。该展览由前英国版《Vogue》主编爱德华·恩宁弗尔策划，展出了100多件定义那个时代的图像、雕塑和服装。

其中，艺术家文卡·彼得森（Vinca Petersen）创作的大量照片、传单和日记拼贴画尤为引人注目，这些作品捕捉了英国和欧洲各地的地下锐舞派对场景。在朦胧的影像中，朋友们围坐在自制音响旁，或在仓库派对结束后瘫倒在地。其中一篇日记写道：“7月10日。在弹坑里开派对。星期天像往常一样和一群疯子一样跳舞，直到太阳渐渐升起，大家才懒洋洋地躺在炎热的阳光下。”

“很多年轻人之所以对那个时代感同身受，是因为他们觉得那是最后一个可以自由自在、无拘无束地做任何想做的事而不受束缚的纯粹时光，”恩宁弗尔在时装秀开幕式上谈到智能手机出现之前的时代时说道。“我们当时真的是直接从夜店去上班，”恩宁弗尔回忆道。1991年，年仅18岁的他成为了英国时尚杂志《iD》最年轻的时装总监。“喷点儿香水，”他笑着补充道，同时模仿着往腋下喷止汗剂，“然后就去上班，或者直接去沙发上睡觉。那就是我们当时的生活。”

尤尔根·泰勒是一位年轻的时尚摄影师，他凭借为少女时期的凯特·莫斯拍摄的未经修饰的照片，在《iD》等独立杂志上崭露头角。很快，模特经纪公司便开始将女孩们送到泰勒位于伦敦的工作室进行“面试”，希望能被录用。泰勒记录了数百次这样的街头面试——其中数十幅作品如今正在泰特美术馆展出。这些记录少女童年的街头快照，有一种静谧的吸引力，却又略带一丝不安；有些少女由母亲陪伴，有些则装作若无其事，还有一些则倒立着吸引眼球。

“对我来说，最有趣的是看到形形色色、背景各异的人，”特勒在邮件中写道。“我希望让发现新面孔的过程更加民主化。此外，这也有助于我拍摄所有人，而不仅仅是我喜欢或受到启发的人。我给予每个人同样的关注和时间。”

尤尔根·泰勒/图片由泰特英国美术馆提供

展览的其他部分，摄影师、DJ兼主持人诺姆斯基拍摄的伦敦汗流浃背的舞池照片，生动地展现了身处熙熙攘攘的人群之中的感受。即使到了今天，诺姆斯基谈起英国嘻哈的兴起、其解构的街头风格，以及像Public Enemy和Wu-Tang Clan这样的美国组合来到英国所带来的振奋人心的时刻，依然充满热情。“成为其中的一份子非常重要，而不是一个旁观者，”他在一次电话采访中谈到如今所谓的“内容创作者”时说道。

那时候，亚文化群体有时间在远离网络瞬息万变的受众群体之外，建立起深厚的社群根基。“可惜的是，现在没有地下文化了，因为一切都‘透明’了——我完全讨厌这个词。要扎实，要神秘，要丰富！”诺姆斯基说道。“我们之所以能长久发展，是因为我们没有出卖自己，我们只是在创作。有些所谓的新兴地下文化，根本算不上地下——因为我一眼就能看出来。”

Normski/图片由泰特英国美术馆提供

每一代人都会经历怀旧的周期，但Z世代对记忆之前的时代的怀念，仿佛是逃离我们身处困境的精神出口。在人工智能末日论、消费主义的狂潮和长期孤独的阴影下，90年代提供了一个数字与模拟完美融合的黄金时期。当时，一个中产阶级家庭可能只有一台能上网的电脑；网络触手可及，但又不会像现在这样整天如影随形。“当我们问年轻人，他们对那个时代真正感兴趣的是什么时，他们会说想要与科技建立更有意识的关系，”专门研究怀旧的心理学家克莱·劳特利奇（Clay Routledge）说道。“这并非是对科技的排斥，而更多的是一种对如何找到平衡点的思考。”

90年代新技术的适量涌现也催生了一个独特的创作时期。随着家用电脑和早期笔记本电脑的出现，卧室音乐制作人应运而生：“你可以在自己家里制作自己的音乐，”诺姆斯基回忆道，“你不需要很多设备就能做出很多音乐。”

互联网和电子邮件的兴起意味着英国，尤其是伦敦，不再是“一个寒冷多雨、与世隔绝的孤岛”，常驻巴黎的美国时尚文化记者达娜·托马斯如是说。1994年，连接伦敦和欧洲大陆的欧洲之星高速列车开通，加速了文化和思想的交流与融合。两年后，托马斯在《新闻周刊》国际版的封面故事中，称伦敦为“地球上最酷的城市”。

Jon Shard/英国文化档案馆/泰特英国美术馆供图

所有这些创造力都需要一个释放的场所——而它找到了，在伦敦和曼彻斯特废弃的工业仓库里，以及大西洋彼岸的纽约。年轻的艺术家们可以绕过传统的画廊空间。锐舞爱好者们也有了聚集的场所。但随着我们的网络世界不断扩展，现实世界中无政府主义式创造力的空间却在萎缩。

艺术家彼得森回忆起住在伦敦的非法占用房屋（未经业主许可的空置建筑）所带来的艺术自由。“如果你不用担心房租，你就不必那么努力工作。那么，你能得到什么呢？你能得到时间。而当你拥有时间时，就等于创造力。”

心理学家劳特利奇认为，这种怀旧情绪实际上可以推动创新。这位《过去与未来：怀旧如何帮助你过上更有意义的生活》一书的作者表示，对于当今的年轻人来说，90年代就像是一次全新的发现。“他们感受到的怀旧情绪几乎带有一种面向未来的感觉，仿佛我们正在从过去汲取灵感，寻找在如今这个科技信息爆炸的时代里，能够让我们耳目一新的做事方法。”

托马斯看到了其他力量在发挥作用。这位《时尚之都：快时尚的代价与服装的未来》的作者说，在时尚界，“如今真正有原创想法的人寥寥无几”。在为数不多的几位设计师中，她特别提到了里克·欧文斯和艾里斯·范·荷本——“他们的设计不仅属于当下，更代表着我们未来的穿着。”

盖伊·马里诺/康泰纳仕集团/泰特英国美术馆供图

图片来源：Naso/NY Daily News Archive/Getty Images

托马斯继续说道，奢侈时尚如今陷入了追赶快时尚的怪圈，几乎每隔一周就会推出新款服装。但她补充道：“创意需要时间。所以你该怎么办？你只能不断回顾过去，重复利用那些创意，因为你根本跟不上潮流。”托马斯说，卡罗琳·贝塞特·肯尼迪的风格“有点千篇一律”。“这就是为什么市场部门会加倍推行‘让我们继续循环利用90年代的风格’——因为它易于穿着，所以也易于销售。”

当然，那个年代有很多东西最好还是留在过去。托马斯指出了“海洛因时尚”这个“巨大问题”，并回忆起一位摄影师朋友给她看过一位模特身上有针孔的原片。

另一方面，时尚杂志编辑不再是时尚的最终把关人。“互联网让时尚民主化了，我认为一些在早期时代逐渐消失的观点现在有了表达的渠道，”《精英帝国：康泰纳仕集团内幕——重塑美国的媒体王朝》一书的作者迈克尔·格林鲍姆说道。不过，在众多网红的喧嚣中，“《Vogue》所代表的那种专业知识和鉴赏力仍然占有一席之地，”他补充道。

恩宁福尔回忆说，在90年代，“作为一名黑人，我所在的行业里黑人模特寥寥无几。”在他创办iD杂志的第一期，他就试图邀请一位黑人模特登上封面，却遭到了拒绝。“我们取得了进步，但也出现了倒退，”恩宁福尔说道。他去年创办了自己的季刊杂志《72》。“我曾目睹黑人模特消失十年……也曾看到她们重返时尚舞台。”

图片由科琳·戴遗产管理处/泰特英国美术馆提供

恩宁富尔表示，上世纪90年代围绕种族、身份认同和性取向展开的讨论至今仍然具有现实意义，她也承认“对年轻人来说，这是一个艰难的时期”。彼得森也对当今青年的严肃态度印象深刻。“他们肩负的重担远比我们当年要重得多，”她说道，“如果他们想要有所作为，就必须真正地努力奋斗。”

“他们没有我们可能拥有过的那种早年成年时的自由。”