A chance encounter during a tube journey in 1988 altered the trajectory of a young Ghanaian arrival to Britain. Scouted as a model, Edward Enninful was swiftly pulled into the London's electric 1990s creative scene, progressing from mannequin to stylist and, by the age of 18, becoming the style editor of the publication i-D.
"That time was the zenith of the Britart scene – Tracey Emin, Jay Jopling. I met Kate Moss at a casting," he recalls. "Then Naomi Campbell for a cover, and I understood we’d be kindred spirits. We all socialised across disciplines. Friday bled into Saturday into Sunday. I miss that rawness."
While Enninful may seem nostalgic, he is not the only one. Recently, a fond idealisation of the 1990s has reached fever pitch. But over the last thirty years, Enninful perceives a significant change. "I believe, we’re less tolerant now than we were in the 90s," he remarks. "The issue extends beyond this country – it’s worldwide."
This shift is increasingly evident: the growth of nationalist groups, the pushback against progressive values, and the return of traditional beauty standards. Where once there was the optimism of the previous decade, now a different political figure looms as a possible leader. Furthermore, the Union Jack, once an badge of national pride, has returned as a polarising symbol.
In Enninful's view, the antidote has always been to promote culture in all its multifaceted forms. This was the guiding principle behind his seminal issue as editor of British Vogue in 2017, which served as a celebration of modern Britain, featuring a wide range of prominent faces from politics.
"People with a voice should wield it," he asserts, explaining those editorial decisions. "Everyone talks about immigration; I wouldn't be here if Britain was not a lenient country, if it hadn't given my family a home and an education. That’s the Britain I cherished. I trust this phase will pass."
He draws solace in the next generation: "Their awareness is greater than we were. They discuss systemic issues – I had no concept what that was."
His formative years would define a pioneering career characterised by fearlessness and inclusivity. Enninful made history as the first man, first Black editor, first gay man, and first disabled gay man of colour to take the helm at British Vogue. His leadership featured historic front pages showcasing people of diverse backgrounds, plus-sized women, an octogenarian, and people from varied communities. Critically, sales rose.
"To overlook vast segments of the population, it’s more than that you’re failing to represent – it’s a poor strategy," he states.
He has since founded his agency EE72 and its flagship publication, 72, his premier initiative since moving on from his previous role. He expresses a desire to continue being a "disruptor".
"I’ve always questioned the conventional wisdom. I was raised in a place where the majority was Black – the physicians, the lawyers, the president. Then we arrived in England, without funds, and I found myself on the margins. I was very shy. My teachers said I’d never amount to anything. Me and my brothers were subject to police stops the Sus laws … this duality gave me a dual identity on the inside and the outside."
In contrast to the caricature of industry figures as brash and temperamental, Enninful is measured in tone and projects peace. His path has not been immune to adversity, including publicly shared periods of mental health and substance use.
He has also endured significant health challenges, having had multiple operations on his eyes, now leaving him with impaired eyesight. "I endured such a dark place 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 prayed, if this ever passes, I’m just going to do everything that I was so afraid to do. I’m not going to restrict myself to just being an editor or a fashion person."
This refusal to fit into a box has propelled him beyond the industry that made his name. He is now organising a major 1990s exhibition at Tate Britain, featuring work by a roster of influential artists and photographers from the era. The show, he says, aims to capture the decade's artistic collaboration – and highlight those who lacked due recognition at the time.
"The establishment sometimes neglected to celebrate the most relevant talents because they lacked the right pedigree," he observes.
This venture itself functions with a different business model, forgoing traditional advertising in favour of partnership-based projects. "We ask, what can we create collaboratively? Is it an experience, a podcast? The magazine is a piece within a greater ecosystem."
Currently, Enninful is regarded as one of the world's most powerful industry leaders. His journey, he believes, is a testament to the power of pursuing your passions.
What would the Edward of the 90s think of the Edward of today? He smiles. "He would be astonished, but he’d be proud. Back then I was sceptical of institutions. I never imagined institutions like Tate were a place for someone like me."
He adds. "Gratitude is key. We fled, 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 I am unstoppable once I’ve set my intention to do something."
Emma is a cannabis enthusiast and writer with a passion for exploring the benefits and culture of hemp products.