90S nostalgia: a craving for simpler times
There's a palpable longing for the 1990s these days, a yearning for a bygone era when life seemed simpler, more carefree. From the resurgence of Levi's 517s and Cartier Tanks to the proliferation of slip dresses and strappy heels, the decade's fashion is having a major moment. But this fascination goes beyond just aesthetics.

A different time, a more relaxed world
People are craving a world where nights out didn't involve constant phone-checking, where lovers were met in bars rather than swiped right, and where the concept of 'looksmaxxing' was unheard of. It's a time when the Sex and the City era thrived, when columnists and fashion PR professionals raked in big bucks, and when apartments in London and New York were still affordable.
The 1990s were a time of third-wave feminism and riot grrrl, when being a 'trad wife' was the least cool thing in the world. In many ways, the culture of that decade was the antithesis of today's.
While romanticizing the past is a cliché, it's impossible to divorce our current fixation with the 1990s from something far deeper than a love for wedges. We're hankering after an essence that may be too far removed from how we move through the world today.
Former Real Housewife Carole Radziwill recently spoke about how much of the fervour around Carolyn Bessette-Kelly misses the point. 'She pulled her hair back in a headband because she didn't want to wash it every day,' Radziwill said. 'She did what felt natural to her and dressed in things that made her feel comfortable and most like herself. Mostly jeans and button-downs and T-shirts.' The takeaway, Radziwill emphasized, is not to mimic her style, but to do and wear what feels most authentic to you. Be yourself.
So much of what we consider '90s minimalism probably came from people relaxing and enjoying their lives, not intensely thinking about what they were wearing or how they were being seen by others. People danced in baggy T-shirts and Converse because they wanted to move freely; celebrities showed up to the red carpet in jeans and smoked cigarettes because it was about the films, not the fashion.
Minimalism without freedom is just austerity; there's no use having the former without the latter. It feels strange and a bit depressing to have social media influencers funneling the same '90s-minimalist images through the algorithm when the essence of the thing was a certain nonchalance, or looseness – not just aesthetically, but spiritually too.
Of course, some are embracing the lifestyle of the '90s, not just the clothes. There's been a renewed interest in 'going analog' – sending letters, using Polaroid cameras, opting for brick phones rather than being hunched over screens, replying to emails at 9 p.m. – and that's something to be celebrated. Because, yeah, the '90s looked good, but most of us are interested in feeling good, too.
