Good late morning, Thursday, and happy #TBT.
I'm not one for nostalgia, and I don't ever even think about going back instead of moving ahead. But as a visually and sensory oriented person, it's hard not to think about a different time and romanticize it- and this week and probably a bit before that, I can't get the 90s out of my mind.
This week saw the death of Phife from "A Tribe called Quest". He was in my age group and a large part of what I call my New York come uppance. I remember first listening to them in college in Philly, when the Jungle Brothers, De La, and Tribe formed the backdrop for many wild times in college, accompanied by King Brit for all of those who also came up in the 215 going to Silk City and dancing your faces off. Such good times.
And all of those sounds came with me to New York, the defining moment of my young lifetime, back in 1993. I remember very clearly the feelings of freedom, happiness, and excitement I felt. And as I walked these streets as a young chick, the thing that struck me most besides the diversity and beauty of the huddled masses was the style. THAT STYLE. Just look at Kate and Johnny from back in the day. I can't. I CAN'T. I CAN NOT. (I just did).
The 90s were a mix of rave culture, hip hop, skate, and Belgian influence. There was minimalism, there were little backpacks, there were sneakers and dresses and dyed blonde hair and denim jackets. I was in a favorite shop of mine the other day where I tried on a sleek pair of black trousers, fitted through the leg and a bit flared at the leg. I had such a moment because I remember those days when everyone wore black pants and top to go out at night- full stop. It was the uniform of New York girls looking to get down.
A friend of mine on Facebook posted a throwback photo of himself mid 90s in NY- he of long hair and eyeglasses a la River Phoenix, with a baggy shirt, shorts, and Birkenstock Arizonas, while his female friend had a blonde pixie crop, a black crop top with a boy's button down, and black mini, with Nike sport sandals. Genius.In the 90s, there was a hippie vibe happening again, but it was very post 60s and 70s and more a product of the greed and excess of the 80s- think style that let you be free to dance and love and whatever else you were doing. it was not as much about flower power, but it was a casual cool that was pervasive in culture. We were letting our hair down, and stripping it down to a basic cool that felt like the antithesis of gluttony and big shoulders and weird science. And it spoke so clearly to where I was in life- loving up on the club scene, hip hop scene, city scene, fashion scene- all the fun scenes that rolled before me in a very elegant haze. It was a great time to be young in New York. And it's true I've left out the influence of grunge, but you already know that did not speak to me as loudly as some of the other stuff I mentioned. It was a bit too morose and masculine for me, and though I loved the anger of it, I was more in the mood to dance than emote.
Which brings me to an exchange I just had with my dearest friend, who alerted me to the fact that Vogue.com was featuring some of Helmut Lang's seminal late 90s shows online. If you are not familiar with the amazingness that was 90s Helmut, you should familiarize yourself at once. One of my favorite designers of all time- hands down. This was also the era of Tom Ford Gucci, mind you, another watershed moment in my fashion life where I clearly remember the game changing forever. But back to Helmut- and his very special brand of genius. Many find minimalism boring, but for me it's quite the opposite- these are clothes that let you live your life in technicolor and are almost like a blank canvas for all of your adventures. It's a liberating thing to think of clothes this way- thus the popularity of late of the work uniform- to me these clothes are a perfect antidote to indecision and regret.
On the runway you would see diversity in ethnicity and age group. And the clothes? Find me anything in these photos you would not wear right the fuck now. So in love with all of these pieces- they are so well suited to city life- from the office to Odeon (who is also enjoying a renaissance of late according to the NY Times and is also a popular haunt of mine). There's nothing better. And the simple hair and makeup is so classic and timeless. Remember this is long before the Kardashians, the real housewives, and selfie mania. Helmut made clothes for modern life, without bells and whistles and "look at me" tackiness. It's no coincidence that the Gap was at their peak during this era- they understood the power of simple clothes done well. Why oh why can't they find their way back there again? Most of the looks are from 1998, with one or two from 1999 in the photos throughout- perched on the eve of a new century and aptly so. Can you believe almost two decades old and still so fresh? I can't imagine ever not wanting to dress like this. Forever, ever? Yes. Forever ever. So my vibe to this day.
Now go look at every Rag and Bone collection, like, ever. And then have a look at Vince. And then look at COS. And then look at new Calvin. It's all based on the principles at Helmut- clean, modern, sexy, straightforward. The influence is felt to this day and I for one am so glad I was around for it the first time- needless to say, the new designers at Helmut (not him anymore, he bowed out a bit ago) are killing it again, and I bought a fabulous one shoulder caftany number that I wore to a wedding in Miami and will wear again on the beach in Montauk, most likely with the Nike sandals I was talking about earlier. Links to those 90s Helmut shows here.
The 90s were definitely a time. I'm so glad I was in this city when this was all happening. It was magical and wonderful and what's great is there is zero shame in repeating any of these looks now. In fact, our troubled times call for clothes like this. Pieces you can depend on that stand the test of time and are just that perfect.
And that's whats up this #TBT in the NYC. Yours, in don't be afraid of your freedom, or your vintage Helmut Lang.XO