Come as You Were: The Return of Grunge

Grunge fashion is back, doncha know?

Yeah, yeah, we've been hearing about the return of grunge for ages, but apparently, the fashion houses are ratcheting it up a notch these days. In yesterday's Style section, the New York Times featured an article about grunge fashion that really went deep into the way early 90s trends are finding their way into high fashion: "Subversion in myriad forms was being commodified on the catwalks....in recent months, the era of Nirvana, Starbucks and heroin chic has been exploited with a rarefied twist."

Ugh, don't you just hate pretentious fashion mumbo-jumbo?

So, despite the fact that actual grunge fashion was basically about wearing old flannel shirts you bought at the thrift store, patching (and re-patching) your ancient ripped jeans until they could be patched no more, and then finishing off the "look" with Doc Martens (usually the only new item in the whole ensemble), various high-end designers, such as Helmut Lang, Dries Van Noten, Jil Sander, 3.1 Phillip Lim, and Saint Laurent are co-opting grunge styles.

Designers have always looked to the past for inspiration. In the 90s, flared hippyish pants (stolen from the 70s) were in style, while more recently, fashion houses tried--and failed, thank god--to bring back 80s day-glo.

But with the resurgence of grunge era fashion, it's the first time that the clothing of my young adulthood--the styles I (supposedly) wore when I was first on my own and trying to find my place in the world--is being co-opted by the fashion houses.

Not surprisingly, they are getting it completely wrong. The fashions they are copying--the layered, plaid, flannel shirts, the ripped black outfits--are what people think was worn back then. But it wasn't really. Maybe the icons of the era--Eddie Vedder, Kurt Cobain, etc.--wore stuff like that, but normal, everyday young women sure didn't.

Here is the heroin-chic grunge look as romanticized by 3.1 Phillip Lim:

Note the plaid shirt tied around the waist, the ironic (or is it meta?) T-shirt, Doc Marten-esque clunky black boots, and short skirt. A short skirt in the early 90s? Uh-uh, wrong.

In reality, girls just weren't this cool back then. Mostly we wore ill-fitting floral prairie dresses with tights and Doc Marten rip-offs. Or overalls. Let's not forget the lovely Farmer Jane look that was so popular then. Our jeans were stone-washed and high-waisted, and our hair was full of split ends.



Here is what the early 90s actually looked like:

These are authentic photos of actual young adults living the dream in 1991. The photos were taken in Missoula, Montana--where many kids from the Northwest went to college, bringing their "grunge" fashions with them.

(Interesting story: the guy with the long hair was from Spokane, Washington, played guitar, and actually KNEW the dudes from Alice in Chains. He had been in Montana for a while and was living without TV, so when I informed him that "Man in a Box" was on heavy rotation on MTV, he almost pooped his pants.)


Do you see any plaid flannel? No. Do our outfits scream HEROIN CHIC? No. White shirts, jeans, sandals--that was pretty much it.

We wore old clothes because we couldn't afford to buy new ones. We all definitely had Doc Marten-type shoes and even a plaid flannel or two, but it's not as if we dressed like Kim Deal every day of the week.

When I see the models strutting down the runway wearing their fake-grunge get-ups, it makes feel like I'm mis-remembering the era.

Was it really that sexy and dangerous? Did we really have such a laconic, jaded, f-off approach to life? Did I miss something?

No, I didn't miss anything. Because I was living it. It just didn't actually look like that. Besides, it was the music that was interesting, not the fashion.

Regardless of how much over-priced designer plaid flannel is bought by the naive masses, the feeling of excitement upon hearing, for the first time, a brand-new song called "Smells Like Teen Spirit" is never coming back.

Photographer Responsible for "Heroin Chic" Dies

K. Moss by C. Day, 1990

Corinne Day, the photographer responsible for putting Kate Moss on the map, passed away a couple of weeks ago at age 48, from a cancerous brain tumor. In 1990, Ms. Day photographed a very young and innocent-looking teenage Kate Moss for British magazine, The Face. Clearly, Ms. Day was a talented photographer, and it's always sad to lose an artist before his or her time; but that said, Ms. Day started something that, while innocent at the time, ended up becoming very dark and destructive.

Ms. Day's naturalistic (not airbrushed) photos were labelled "gritty" and "grunge," and they were refreshing after the big hair, padded shoulders, and caked-on makeup that characterized fashion photography of the late 1980's.  But over the next few years, this gritty style got more and more extreme. Relatively healthy-looking models like Cindy Crawford and Naomi Campbell were replaced by gals like Moss who looked anorexic and/or addicted. "Heroin Chic" was born.

by Mario Sorrenti, 1993

In 1993, Ms. Day took another batch of photos of Ms. Moss for British Vogue. The photos came under fire because of how skinny Ms. Moss's appeared in them. People suspected an eating disorder or drug addiction. Adding fuel to the fire were photos taken of Kate Moss by Mario Sorrenti for Calvin Klein's Obsession for Men campaign. The images of an emaciated, wasted-looking Moss were EVERYWHERE: billboards, the sides of buses, every magazine you opened.

At the same time, grunge was taking over the music charts, heroin usage was on the rise, the economy sucked, and the crime rate was skyrocketing. It was a dark time, and though photos of some skinny British model seem insignificant in comparison, if you were a young woman at the time, you couldn't help but be negatively affected by them.

Thin was obviously in, and for me--a highly-impressionable young woman, recently out of college, just moved to Manhattan, trying to find a career (and a life)--it was powerful stuff. Girls in the city actually WERE that skinny, and they pouted and slouched and smoked their way around the Lower East Side looking gorgeous. My body shape naturally being closer to Kate Moss than Anna Nicole Smith, I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Many fewer calories and lots of miles on the treadmill later, my body actually (scarily) resembled Ms. Moss's.

No, I'm not blaming Corinne Day for my journey to the dark side, but if she'd not taken those photos of Kate Moss back in 1990 that catapulted her to fame, who knows what the alternative would've been? All I'm saying is that in the early 90's, when conditions in the world were so dark and depressing, did we really need art and advertising to echo the times?

I'm Still Alive...Just Breathe

One day last week I was in my car listening to our excellent local, independent radio station (shout out to 107.1 The Peak!) when Pearl Jam’s newish song, “Just Breathe” came on. Listening to this pretty song got me thinking about Pearl Jam’s impressive catalogue of songs and their longevity--I (and my fellow Gen Xers) practically grew up on them. 

Despite this, the rock band that has come to define Gen X is Nirvana; along with a handful of other Seattle bands (Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, and Mudhoney to name a few), they ushered in the Grunge era and gave voice to the alienation and insecurity of their generation. Nirvana’s music and lyrics certainly did capture the “what the hell am I doing with my life” feeling most of us had in the early 90s, but I have to argue that, because Kurt Cobain killed himself in 1994 (when he was only 27), thus ending Nirvana’s reign as the voice of Gen X, they shouldn’t be our defining rock band. Because, unlike the rest of us, Nirvana never had to grow up. Sure, Dave G. and Krist N. have aged, moved on, and even started families, but that doesn't count, because we didn't get to see how Nirvana would’ve handled the death of Grunge, Napster, ITunes, or the rise of the horrendous boy band era. Kurt Cobain never had to cope with turning forty. I wonder, if he was still alive, if his daughter Frances Bean would hate him, too.

To me, the band that best defines Gen X is Pearl Jam. Though Eddie Vedder wasn’t as tortured as Kurt Cobain, both bands were Grunge, both came out of Seattle, both wore plaid shirts. Pearl Jam even had a cameo in the classic slacker film, Singles; that’s about as Gen X as you get. The difference is that the members of Pearl Jam have grown older together, have had to change with the times, and are still putting out decent, relevant music. In the 90's, they even challenged the increased corporatization of rock-n-roll by boycotting Ticketmaster and selling tickets to their live shows themselves. 

As I listened to the words of “Just Breathe” it became clear just how “mature” Pearl Jam has become. I’m not a schmaltzy person by nature but I found myself almost getting choked up: Yes, I understand that every life must end, aw-huh. As we sit alone, I know someday we must go, aw-huh. Oh, I'm a lucky man to count on both hands the ones I love. Some folks just have one, others, they've got none, uh-huh.  In his twenties, Eddie Vedder was singing about being alive; now, like the rest of us Gen Xers, he's coming to terms with the fact that his life is probably more than half over. His voice is deeper and more gravelly than it was twenty years ago. He sounds like a man who has been through hard times and has learned from his mistakes...a man who realizes one's worth is best measured by the amount of love--not money--in one's life.