An unexpected discovery on the London Underground in 1988 transformed the course of a young Ghanaian newcomer to Britain. Spotted by a talent scout, Edward Enninful was quickly drawn into the city's vibrant 1990s creative scene, evolving from mannequin to stylist and, by the age of 18, becoming the style editor of the publication i-D.
"That time was the peak of the Britart scene – Tracey Emin, Jay Jopling. I met Kate Moss at a casting," he recalls. "Then I met Naomi for a cover, and I felt we’d be kindred spirits. We all hung out across disciplines. Friday bled into Saturday into Sunday. I miss that energy."
Although Enninful appears sentimental, he is not the only one. Lately, a fond idealisation of the 1990s has reached fever pitch. But over the last thirty years, Enninful perceives a significant change. "I feel, we’re less accepting now than we were in the 90s," he says. "The issue extends beyond this country – it’s everywhere."
This change is hard to ignore: the resurgence of far-right politics, the backlash against social awareness, and the reassertion of Eurocentric beauty standards. Where once there was the hope of the late 90s, today a more divisive political force looms as a possible leader. Even, the Union Jack, once an emblem of cultural optimism, has become contentious again.
For Enninful, the solution has always been to celebrate culture in all its variety. This was the guiding principle behind his first issue as editor of British Vogue in 2017, which served as a portrait of modern Britain, featuring a broad spectrum of cultural icons from literature.
"Individuals with a platform should employ it," he says, discussing those editorial decisions. "Everyone talks about immigration; I would not be in this position if Britain was not a open country, if it did not offer my family a home and an opportunity. That’s the Britain I believed in. I hope this phase will end."
He finds hope in the next generation: "They’re much more aware than we were. They analyse systemic issues – I had no concept what that was."
Those early experiences would forge a trailblazing career characterised by fearlessness and diversity. Enninful made history as the first man, first black man, first openly gay person, and first disabled gay man of colour to lead at British Vogue. His leadership featured historic front pages showcasing models of colour, plus-sized women, an octogenarian, and individuals from all walks of life. Significantly, sales increased.
"Ignoring huge sections of the population, it’s more than that you’re failing to represent – it’s a poor strategy," he explains.
He has established his agency EE72 and its flagship publication, 72, his first major project since departing his former post. He states his aim to continue being a "disruptor".
"I’ve always questioned the established norms. I was raised in a place where Black professionals were the norm – the doctors, the lawyers, the president. Then we arrived in England, with nothing, and I was a minority. I was incredibly timid. My teachers predicted I’d achieve nothing. Me and my brothers were harassed under the suspicion laws … this duality gave me a sense of being both an insider and outsider."
In contrast to the caricature of fashion editors as loud and highly strung, Enninful is softly spoken and projects peace. His path has involved challenges, including openly discussed struggles with mental health and substance use.
He has also endured serious health challenges, having had multiple operations on his eyes, leading to limited vision. "I endured such a time of fear for two years, not working, anxious I was going to lose my sight. It’s comparable to PTSD; you just exist in a state of dread 24/7. I thought, if this ever is over, I’m just going to pursue all that I was so scared to do. I’m not going to limit myself to just being an editor or a figure in fashion."
This determination to be defined narrowly has led him away from the world that established him. He is now curating a significant 1990s exhibition at Tate Britain, showcasing work by a host of defining artists and photographers from the era. The show, he explains, aims to capture the decade's artistic collaboration – and give platform to those who did not receive a spotlight at the time.
"Galleries often failed to shine a light on the right artists because they lacked the traditional credentials," he observes.
This venture itself uses a different business model, rejecting traditional advertising in favour of creative collaborations. "The question is, what can we do together? Is it an experience, a series? The magazine is one component of a greater ecosystem."
Today, Enninful is regarded as one of the world's most respected industry leaders. His path, he believes, is a proof to the power of defying expectations.
How would the Edward of the 90s make of the Edward of today? He smiles. "It would be a surprise, but he’d be impressed. Back then I was sceptical of institutions. I never imagined institutions like Tate were within my reach."
He reflects. "Nothing is assumed. We were displaced, we fled our country. I almost lost my vision. So fear is not a factor. People have doubted me my entire life. But no obstacle is too great once I’ve decided to do something."
A passionate literary critic and avid reader with a background in English literature, dedicated to uncovering hidden gems in contemporary fiction.