A serendipitous meeting on the London Underground in 1988 altered the trajectory of a teenage Ghanaian newcomer to Britain. Spotted by a talent scout, Edward Enninful was rapidly ushered into the city's buzzing 1990s cultural landscape, progressing from mannequin to stylist and, by the age of 18, becoming the style editor of i-D magazine.
"That time was the height of the Britart scene – Tracey Emin, Jay Jopling. I encountered Kate Moss at a casting," he remembers. "Then Naomi Campbell for a cover, and I knew we’d be great friends. We all socialised across disciplines. Friday bled into Saturday into Sunday. I miss that rawness."
Although Enninful appears nostalgic, he is not the only one. Lately, a longing look back of the 1990s has become pervasive. But over the last thirty years, Enninful feels a significant change. "I feel, we’re less accepting now than we were in the 90s," he says. "This isn't just this country – it’s everywhere."
This regression is difficult to overlook: the growth of far-right politics, the reaction against progressive values, and the reassertion of narrow beauty standards. Replacing the optimism of the Blair era, currently a more divisive political figure appears as a potential leader. Even, the Union Jack, once an badge of national pride, has returned as a polarising symbol.
According to Enninful, the response has long been to celebrate culture in all its variety. This was the guiding principle behind his landmark issue as editor of British Vogue in 2017, which served as a snapshot of modern Britain, including a diverse array of prominent faces from politics.
"Individuals with a platform should wield it," he comments, discussing those editorial decisions. "People often debate about immigration; I wouldn't be here if Britain were not a open country, if it refused my family a refuge and an education. That’s the Britain I always loved. I believe this phase will end."
He takes comfort in the next generation: "They’re much more aware than we were. They discuss unconscious bias – I didn't even know what that was."
The beginnings of his career would forge a pioneering career marked by fearlessness and representation. Enninful set a precedent as the first man, first Black editor, first openly gay person, and first disabled Black gay man to take the helm at British Vogue. His tenure featured landmark covers showcasing Black models, plus-sized women, older individuals, and people from varied communities. Significantly, sales grew.
"When you ignore vast segments of the population, it’s more than that you’re failing to represent – it’s a poor strategy," he emphasises.
He has since founded his creative company EE72 and its flagship publication, 72, his key endeavour since leaving his former post. He expresses a desire to continue being a "innovator".
"My nature is to challenge the established norms. I was born and raised in a place where Black professionals were the norm – the doctors, the lawyers, the president. Then we arrived in England, penniless, and I found myself on the margins. I was very shy. My teachers declared I’d never amount to anything. Me and my brothers were harassed under the suspicion laws … all that gave me a dual identity on the inside and the outside."
Contrary to the popular image of industry figures as loud and temperamental, Enninful is calm and radiates serenity. His journey has included its share of challenges, including well-documented struggles with depression and addiction.
He has also faced significant health issues, having had multiple operations on his eyes, now leaving him with limited vision. "I endured such a time of fear for two years, away from work, anxious I was going to lose my sight. It’s comparable to 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 fearful to do. I’m not going to confine myself to just being an editor or a figure in fashion."
This refusal to be defined narrowly has propelled him beyond the realm that established him. He is now putting together a seminal 1990s exhibition at Tate Britain, bringing together work by a roster of defining artists and photographers from the era. The show, he explains, aims to explore the decade's interdisciplinary energy – and give platform to those who weren't given adequate attention at the time.
"The establishment didn't always promote the truly innovative creators because they lacked the right pedigree," he comments.
This venture itself uses a different strategy, forgoing traditional advertising in favour of partnership-based projects. "The question is, what can we do together? Is it an experience, a series? The magazine is one component of a greater ecosystem."
Currently, Enninful stands as one of the world's most influential industry leaders. His journey, he feels, is a testament to the power of defying expectations.
How would the Enninful of that era make of the man he has become? He smiles. "He’d be in shock, but he’d be proud. In those days I was anti-establishment. I didn't think institutions like Tate were within my reach."
He adds. "I never take anything for granted. We fled, we fled our country. I came close to losing my vision. So fear is not a factor. People have doubted me my entire life. But no obstacle is too great once I’ve made up my mind to do something."