At this point in the ’90s-cultural renaissance, a third-wave ska revival should land by next summer. Of course, it’s one thing to play the musicit’s yet another to dress the part. Here are 36 style cornerstones from the decadesome of which we hope will never, ever return.
There were few companies that monopolized Canadian style like Mod Robes. Part hospital scrub, part functional outdoor gear, rumours has it that they issued a pair of these pants with every Edgefest ticket sold. (FYI: We’re completely lying about that last part.)
Remember how, in the ’60, people tried to see how many hippies they could fit in a VW Bug? Well, in the ’90s, people did the same thing with JNCOs.
Now, Toronto’s Queen St. W is littered with David’s Tea branches and Fred Perry boutiques. Yet only a decade ago, you’d regularly find its edgier denizens wearing shoulder bags, phat pants, and hideous hoodies by SNUG, who occupied the sartorial zone between Alien Workshop skateboarding apparel and candy-raver chic.
We like to call this one the two-legged skirt.
Technically, the ’90s ended in the year 2000. But every ’90s child remembers when the era died in our collective hearts: It’s when we discovered that Airwalk shoes, once the beacon of skate-dude cool, were available for sale at Wal Marts. We’ll always remember the shoes fondly, mostly because of their commercials. Including this one, which seems like it was scored by like, The Cherry Poppin’ Daddies or something:
You’d think, based on Kurt Cobain’s affinity for ‘em, that Chuck Taylors would be a ’90s Converse staple. Not so. The Converse one-stars were so revered, even ’90s revivalists are starting to bring ‘em back.
Because we all know at least 16 different chicken-legged camp counsellors who owned a pair of tan Simples. Nonetheless, a forest green pair looked undeniably freshespecially when paired with a matching Northern Reflections crewneck.
And for the true skate heads, we present these, the ’90s answer to moon boots.
Of course, not all shoes were unisex. Candies, after all, made heels so chunky, the put story-high Doc Marten platforms to shame.
Not to be confused with the era’s more risque piercingslike the tongue ring, which David Usher’s crew of Moist fans wore for, uh, “sensual” purposesthe labret piercing was frequently worn by nu metal wannabes, skateboarders flirting with jungle music, and hip dads. No one actually knew what a labret was until, of course, they got their pierced. Which leads us to the era’s defining facial piercing…
Unlike the bucket hat, this monstrosity hasn’t made its way back into pop culture. Except it’s arguable that it never left: The piercing has become a staple among FOX Racing jersey-toting, Monster Energy Drink swillin’, ATV-riding hosers in Alberta, coastal B.C., and Ontario’s cottage country.
It’s hard to believe now, but sometime in the mid-’90s, the Squirrel Nut Zippers were actually a popular band. Indeed, swing fetishized all things vintage and American, including these ’50s-style bowling shirt abominations. If you choose to wear one, here’s a quick guide on how to pull it off:
Now, nothing said mopey, basement-dwelling, English Lit grad slacker more than the ringer tee. If that blue tri-blend tee looks familiar, it shouldit was the main star of Hayden’s “Bad As They Seem” vid.
That itchy, unbreathable polyester baseball tee’s natural habitat, it seems, would be on MuchMusic’s now-defunct Speaker’s Corner.
Remember that time when we saw the Suicide Machines, and they were screenprinting their band logos on the back of vintage work shirts? Mine had the name “Darryl” stitched into it. It was hilarious BECAUSE MY NAME’S NOT DARRYL!
Ah, the iconic Ford “Fuck” tee, the era’s most iconic t-shirt. We have to give mega-daps to this little gem, too:
OK, Penfield is still selling these for like, $300 a pop.
In 2013, vintage trendssee: acid-washed denim jackets, wallet chains, and moreveer towards clothing of the ’90s. In the ’90s, however, they appropriated the style of the 1970s, including the era’s awful, uncomfortable, wide-and-short fitting track jackets. Bonus if you had a two- or four-stripe Adidas knockoff.
Here’s the lifecycle of a World Famous knapsack: You’d buy it from a surplus store. Within a week, it’d be covered with Sharpie renditions of your favourite band’s logos. (The Dead Kennedys logo was particularly a fun one to draw, even if you’d never heard Plastic Surgery Disasters.) By week two, holes would be developing all over the bag. By week three, it’d be at the bottom of a Michigan landfill, where it resides to this day.
While this Montreal Canadiens Starter jacket rules, it wasn’t the era’s most common pullover. No, those belonged to, in order: 1. The Charlotte Hornets. 2. The Chicago Bulls. 3. The L.A. Raiders (which I owned, because I’m obvs a villain). 4. The San Jose Sharks. 5. The Dallas Cowboys. Now, these jackets retail for hundreds of dollars from pricey vintage streetwear boutiquesso, like, thanks Macklemore.
It didn’t matter if they turned your skin greyish, all while giving you some unholy mixture of hives and eczema. You wore your beaded necklace with pride, because hey, you effin’ suffered for your art.
While faded pink and green dyejobs are commonplace now, that shit would’ve never flown in the ’90s. Because back then, Manic Panic was cheap and plentiful. Right, Esthero?
The classic haircut for dudes. Heck, even a young Ben Cook (above) rocked itfar before his Fucked Up days, obviously. I mean, check this Limblifter vid; just about every member’s rocking a variation of the centre part.
While Crazy Town was all frost-tipped spikes, the phenomenon travelled north of the border, too. Note the, uh, tasteful dye jobs in Treble Charger’s “American Psycho.”
And if you had some Crazy Town-esque spikes, then there was only one hair gel you’d use: Dep. Dippity Doo’s for posers. (Excuse us. “Poseurs.” With a “U.”)
Let’s also not forget the ski jump hairstyle, which was Ace Ventura’s lasting gift to pop culture.
What do Chester the Cheetah, Guy Fieri, and the Tea Party’s Jeff Martin have in common? You got it: The soul patch, a.k.a. the choda tickler, a.k.a. the flavour savour.
The one-strap-on jean coverall look was a Salt ‘N’ Pepa staple, but by the time the ’90s roared to a close, everyone from Korn to your little brother had a pair of these.
Pamela Anderson’s barbed wire tattoo was undoubtedly influential in the ’90s, but was there any more common tattoo than the ying yang? I’ve even met a dude who ying yang hand tattoos. Now that’s commitment.
Now, thick-rimmed glasses, it can be argued, have been a style cornerstone for plenty of eras, the current one included. But the accessory undoubted completed any ’90s outfitand had a prime role in Treble Charger’s video for “Morale,” which is a de facto guide to Canadian alt-rock fashion. No, really: this entire post might as well be about “Morale.”
OK, every now and again, a fashion-forward mag likeGQwill make bold sartorial proclamations. Like, for example, that “orange accessories are this fall’s hot ticket.” Well, GQ, get a clue: orange is a disgusting colour that’ll never, ever see a pop-cultural renaissance because, well, it’s a digusting-ass colour. Don’t believe us? Check out those Mod Robes above.
Turned backwards and upside down, a visor was dubbed “the rain catcher.”
Yes, that’s Seth Green from Can’t Hardly Wait, the de facto guide to dressing like a ’90s teenager. But while he patented the goggleswhich met their pop-cultural demise by the time Sacha Baron Cohen wore them on Da Ali G Showone man perfected it: DJ Chris Sheppard.
Because sometimes, not all your buds get the etiquette of smoking the sticky icky, you know? So, you gotta be like, “Yo, Ross Rebagliati, puff puff pass son.”
