I grew up in the nineties. I wore my first training bra, became obsessed with Clueless (when it came out, P.S.), begged my mom for another pair of Doc Martens after my Weimeraner ate them, wore tattoo choker necklaces and daisy printed skater dresses. I wore socks under my sandals. Yes, I was a nineties girl.
On a whim I decided to pull on the crop top that I purchased from Topshop many months ago and was too lazy to return (crop tops are not my thing). And then I pulled on my ripped jeans (which were, on the other hand, a new acquisition). And then out of the corner of my eye I spotted my green flannel. I tied it around my waist. And looked in the mirror, just for fun. I laughed at myself, but then the look grew on me.
I wore it around the house for a few hours, and by the time my husband came home, I was a complete convert. Wearing this outfit made me feel young again, but also cooler, because I wasn’t grown up enough in the 90’s to truly appreciate the grunge fashion for what it was: a rebellion from the colorful, vibrant, (dare I say it: tacky) eighties.