A chance encounter while riding the tube in 1988 altered the path of a young Ghanaian immigrant to Britain. Spotted by a talent scout, Edward Enninful was swiftly pulled into the capital's buzzing 1990s artistic milieu, progressing from mannequin to stylist and, before turning twenty, becoming the fashion director of the publication i-D.
"It was the height of the Britart scene – Jay Jopling, Tracey Emin. I met Kate Moss at a casting," he remembers. "Then Naomi Campbell for a cover, and I felt we’d be kindred spirits. We all mixed across disciplines. Friday rolled into Saturday into Sunday. I miss that rawness."
If Enninful sounds nostalgic, he is not the only one. Lately, a fond idealisation of the 1990s has become pervasive. But over the last thirty years, Enninful believes a profound shift. "I feel, we’re less accepting now than we were in the 90s," he remarks. "It’s not even this country – it’s everywhere."
This shift is increasingly evident: the resurgence of far-right politics, the reaction against progressive values, and the reinforcement of traditional beauty standards. Replacing the optimism of the late 90s, today a different political force looms as a potential leader. Even, the British flag, once an emblem of national pride, has become contentious again.
According to Enninful, the antidote has long been to promote culture in all its multifaceted forms. This was the guiding principle behind his landmark issue as editor of British Vogue in 2017, which served as a celebration of modern Britain, showcasing a broad spectrum of influential figures from art.
"People with a voice should wield it," he asserts, explaining those publishing choices. "Everyone talks about immigration; I wouldn't be here if Britain was not a welcoming country, if it refused my family a home and an opportunity. That’s the Britain I believed in. I hope this phase will end."
He draws solace in the youth of today: "They are far more conscious than we were. They discuss implicit prejudice – I didn't even know what that was."
His formative years would forge a pioneering career built on fearlessness and inclusivity. Enninful broke barriers as the first man, first Black editor, first gay man, and first disabled Black gay man to take the helm at British Vogue. His leadership featured landmark covers showcasing Black models, curvy models, an octogenarian, and people from varied communities. Importantly, sales rose.
"Ignoring huge sections of the population, it’s not just that you’re excluding people – it’s commercially unwise," he states.
He has since founded his new venture EE72 and its flagship publication, 72, his premier initiative since moving on from his former post. He says he wants to continue being a "disruptor".
"I’ve always questioned the conventional wisdom. I was brought up in a place where Black professionals were the norm – the physicians, the lawyers, the leader. Then we arrived in England, penniless, and I became the 'other'. I was incredibly timid. My teachers declared I’d never amount to anything. Me and my brothers were stopped by the police the suspicion laws … all that gave me a sense of being on the inside and the outside."
In contrast to the stereotype of industry figures as loud and temperamental, Enninful is measured in tone and projects peace. His life has included its share of hardship, including well-documented periods of mental health and addiction.
He has also undergone serious health challenges, having undergone several surgeries on his eyes, now leaving him with impaired eyesight. "I endured such a time of fear for two years, away from work, terrified I was going to lose my sight. It’s like PTSD; you just exist in a state of dread 24/7. I thought, if this ever passes, I’m just going to pursue all that I was so afraid to do. I’m not going to restrict myself to just being an editor or a fashion person."
This drive to be defined narrowly has inspired him away from the industry that made his name. He is now organising a seminal 1990s exhibition at Tate Britain, bringing together work by a group of defining artists and photographers from the era. The show, he explains, aims to capture the decade's creative cross-pollination – and highlight those who lacked adequate attention at the time.
"The establishment sometimes neglected to celebrate the right artists because they lacked the right pedigree," he comments.
The magazine 72 itself functions with a unique business model, eschewing traditional advertising in favour of creative collaborations. "We ask, what can we achieve in partnership? Is it an event, a podcast? The magazine is a piece within a broader vision."
Currently, Enninful is regarded as one of the world's most powerful industry leaders. His journey, he believes, is a proof to the power of following your instincts.
What would the Edward of the 90s make of the his current self? He smiles. "It would be a surprise, but he’d be impressed. Back then I was anti-establishment. I would not have believed institutions like Tate were within my reach."
He pauses. "I never take anything for granted. We were displaced, we fled our country. I came close to losing my vision. So fear isn't an option. People have underestimated me my entire life. But no obstacle is too great once I’ve made up my mind to do something."
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