A chance encounter on the London Underground in 1988 transformed the course of a teenage Ghanaian newcomer to Britain. Spotted by a talent scout, Edward Enninful was quickly drawn into the London's electric 1990s artistic milieu, progressing from model to stylist and, while still a teenager, becoming the style editor of i-D magazine.
"That era was the zenith of the YBA movement – Tracey Emin, Jay Jopling. I met Kate Moss at a casting," he remembers. "Then Naomi Campbell for a cover, and I understood we’d be close. We all socialised across disciplines. Friday became Saturday into Sunday. I yearn for that energy."
Although Enninful appears nostalgic, he is in good company. Recently, a longing look back of the 1990s has grown intense. Yet since that time, Enninful perceives a noticeable regression. "I feel, we’re less accepting now than we were in the 90s," he remarks. "This isn't just this country – it’s everywhere."
This regression is increasingly evident: the rise of nationalist groups, the pushback against social awareness, and the return of Eurocentric beauty standards. Replacing the hope of the Blair era, now a more divisive political figure looms as a possible leader. Furthermore, the British flag, once an symbol of Cool Britannia, has sparked debate once more.
According to Enninful, the antidote has always been to celebrate culture in all its variety. This was the driving force behind his seminal issue as editor of British Vogue in 2017, which served as a celebration of modern Britain, showcasing a diverse array of prominent faces from politics.
"Those in a position of influence should use it," he asserts, explaining those publishing choices. "People often debate about immigration; I could not have had this life if Britain were not a welcoming country, if it hadn't given my family a refuge and an opportunity. That’s the Britain I believed in. I hope this phase will fade."
He draws solace in the younger generation: "They are far more conscious than we were. They discuss unconscious bias – I had no concept what that was."
His formative years would forge a pioneering career marked by fearlessness and representation. Enninful set a precedent as the first man, first black man, first gay man, and first disabled gay man of colour to lead at British Vogue. His time featured historic front pages showcasing models of colour, curvy models, an octogenarian, and individuals from all walks of life. Importantly, sales increased.
"When you ignore huge sections of the population, it’s more than that you’re not being inclusive – it’s commercially unwise," he explains.
He has recently launched his new venture EE72 and its accompanying magazine, 72, his key endeavour since leaving his previous role. He says he wants to continue being a "change-maker".
"I constantly interrogate the status quo. I was born and raised in a place where the majority was Black – the doctors, the lawyers, the president. Then we arrived in England, with nothing, and I became the 'other'. I was painfully reserved. My teachers declared I’d never amount to anything. Me and my brothers were subject to police stops the Sus laws … all that gave me a sense of being both an insider and outsider."
Contrary to the popular image of fashion editors as loud and highly strung, Enninful is measured in tone and radiates serenity. His path has included its share of hardship, including publicly shared periods of depression and substance use.
He has also endured serious health challenges, having undergone several surgeries on his eyes, resulting in limited vision. "I experienced such a difficult period for two years, away from work, fearing 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 embrace every opportunity that I was so scared to do. I’m not going to limit myself to just being an editor or a fashion person."
This refusal to be typecast has propelled him outside the world that built his career. He is now putting together a seminal 1990s exhibition at Tate Britain, bringing together work by a host of influential artists and photographers from the era. The show, he says, aims to capture the decade's artistic collaboration – and spotlight those who lacked due recognition at the time.
"Galleries didn't always celebrate the right artists because they lacked the traditional credentials," he observes.
This project itself operates on a different approach, forgoing traditional advertising in favour of integrated partnerships. "The question is, what can we do together? Is it an experience, a series? The magazine is part of a broader vision."
Today, Enninful stands as one of the world's most respected cultural influencers. His story, he feels, is a demonstration to the power of following your instincts.
How would the Enninful of that era make of the Edward of today? He laughs heartily. "It would be a surprise, but he’d be pleased. In those days I was anti-establishment. I didn't think institutions like Tate were a place for someone like me."
He pauses. "Nothing is assumed. We were displaced, we left our homeland. I came close to losing my vision. So there is no room for fear. People have counted me out my whole career. But nothing can stop me once I’ve made up my mind to do something."