An unexpected discovery while riding the tube in 1988 transformed the path of a teenage Ghanaian arrival to Britain. Scouted as a model, Edward Enninful was swiftly pulled into the London's vibrant 1990s cultural landscape, moving from mannequin to stylist and, by the age of 18, becoming the fashion director of the publication i-D.
"That era was the height of the Britart scene – Jay Jopling, Tracey Emin. I met Kate Moss at a casting," he states. "Then I met Naomi for a cover, and I understood we’d be great friends. We all mixed across disciplines. Friday became Saturday into Sunday. I miss that energy."
Although Enninful appears sentimental, he is far from alone. Lately, a fond idealisation of the 1990s has grown intense. Yet over the last thirty years, Enninful believes a significant change. "In my view, we’re less accepting now than we were in the 90s," he says. "This isn't just this country – it’s a global phenomenon."
This regression is difficult to overlook: the growth of populist movements, the backlash against so-called "wokeness", and the reinforcement of traditional beauty standards. Where once there was the optimism of the late 90s, currently a more divisive political force stands as a potential leader. Even, the British flag, once an symbol of national pride, has sparked debate once more.
According to Enninful, the antidote has consistently been to celebrate culture in all its variety. This was the core philosophy behind his landmark issue as editor of British Vogue in 2017, which served as a portrait of modern Britain, featuring a broad spectrum of influential figures from music.
"Those in a position of influence should employ it," he says, discussing those editorial decisions. "There is much discussion about immigration; I wouldn't be here if Britain was not a lenient country, if it refused my family a refuge and an education. That’s the Britain I cherished. I hope this period will pass."
He draws solace in the younger generation: "They’re much more aware than we were. They talk about systemic issues – I didn't even know what that was."
Those early experiences would shape a groundbreaking career marked by fearlessness and diversity. Enninful made history as the first male, first black man, first gay man, and first disabled gay man of colour to lead at British Vogue. His time featured diverse covers showcasing Black models, plus-sized women, older individuals, and people from varied communities. Critically, sales grew.
"To overlook large portions of the population, it’s not just that you’re not being inclusive – it’s a poor strategy," he states.
He has since founded his creative company EE72 and its accompanying magazine, 72, his premier initiative since departing his previous role. He says he wants to continue being a "innovator".
"I’ve always questioned the conventional wisdom. I was born and raised in a place where the majority was Black – the physicians, the attorneys, the leader. Then we arrived in England, with nothing, and I became the 'other'. I was very shy. My teachers predicted I’d achieve nothing. Me and my brothers were harassed under the Sus laws … this duality gave me a unique perspective on the inside and the outside."
Defying the stereotype of fashion editors as loud and highly strung, Enninful is measured in tone and projects peace. His path has not been immune to hardship, including publicly shared periods of mental health and substance use.
He has also faced significant health issues, having undergone several surgeries on his eyes, now leaving him with impaired eyesight. "I experienced such a time of fear for two years, not working, terrified I was going to lose my sight. It’s like PTSD; you just live in fear 24/7. I vowed, if this ever ends, I’m just going to embrace every opportunity that I was so afraid to do. I’m not going to restrict myself to just being an editor or a figure in fashion."
This determination to be defined narrowly has led him beyond the world that made his name. He is now organising a seminal 1990s exhibition at Tate Britain, featuring work by a group of pivotal artists and photographers from the era. The show, he says, aims to capture the decade's artistic collaboration – and spotlight those who did not receive adequate attention at the time.
"The establishment sometimes neglected to celebrate the truly innovative creators because they lacked the right pedigree," he comments.
The magazine 72 itself functions with a unique approach, forgoing traditional advertising in favour of partnership-based projects. "We ask, what can we do together? Is it an experience, a podcast? The magazine is part of a larger creative platform."
Now, Enninful is regarded as one of the world's most respected creative power brokers. His journey, he feels, is a demonstration to the power of defying expectations.
What would the Enninful of that era make of the Edward of today? He smiles. "He would be astonished, but he’d be pleased. At that time I was a rebel. I didn't think institutions like Tate were a place for someone like me."
He adds. "I never take anything for granted. We were displaced, 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 nothing can stop me once I’ve decided to do something."