A serendipitous meeting on the London Underground in 1988 transformed the trajectory of a teenage Ghanaian newcomer to Britain. Discovered for modeling, Edward Enninful was quickly drawn into the London's electric 1990s creative scene, progressing from model to stylist and, by the age of 18, becoming the style editor of the publication i-D.
"That era was the zenith of the Britart scene – Jay Jopling, Tracey Emin. I encountered Kate Moss at a casting," he recalls. "Then I met Naomi for a cover, and I knew we’d be kindred spirits. We all mixed across disciplines. Friday rolled into Saturday into Sunday. I long for that energy."
While Enninful may seem nostalgic, he is in good company. Recently, a wistful romanticisation of the 1990s has reached fever pitch. However since that time, Enninful feels a significant change. "In my view, we’re more divided now than we were in the 90s," he observes. "This isn't just this country – it’s worldwide."
This shift is hard to ignore: the growth of nationalist groups, the pushback against progressive values, and the reassertion of traditional beauty standards. Replacing the optimism of the previous decade, currently a different political force stands as a potential leader. Even, the British flag, once an symbol of cultural optimism, has sparked debate once more.
For Enninful, the response has long been to celebrate culture in all its diversity. 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 diverse array of influential figures from literature.
"Those in a position of influence should use it," he comments, discussing those publishing choices. "People often debate about immigration; I could not have had this life if Britain were not a welcoming country, if it refused my family a refuge and an education. That’s the Britain I cherished. I hope this phase will end."
He takes comfort in the youth of today: "They’re much more aware than we were. They talk about implicit prejudice – I was not even aware what that was."
Those early experiences would shape a pioneering career characterised by fearlessness and inclusivity. Enninful broke barriers as the first male, first Black editor, 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, older individuals, and individuals from all walks of life. Significantly, sales rose.
"To overlook large portions of the population, it’s more than that you’re failing to represent – it’s commercially unwise," he emphasises.
He has since founded his creative company EE72 and its accompanying magazine, 72, his first major project since moving on from his former post. He states his aim to continue being a "disruptor".
"I’ve always questioned the conventional wisdom. I was brought up in a place where everybody was black – the physicians, the lawyers, the president. Then we came to England, penniless, and I found myself on the margins. I was very shy. My teachers declared I’d achieve nothing. Me and my brothers were subject to police stops the Sus laws … this duality gave me a dual identity on the inside and the outside."
Contrary to the popular image of industry figures as loud and highly strung, Enninful is softly spoken and projects peace. His path has involved adversity, including well-documented periods of depression and addiction.
He has also endured serious health issues, having undergone several surgeries on his eyes, leading to limited vision. "I experienced such a difficult period for two years, away from work, terrified I was going to go blind. It’s similar to PTSD; you just exist in a state of dread 24/7. I prayed, if this ever ends, I’m just going to pursue all that I was so afraid to do. I’m not going to confine myself to just being an editor or a fashion person."
This drive to be defined narrowly has propelled him outside the industry that established him. He is now curating a seminal 1990s exhibition at Tate Britain, bringing together work by a host of pivotal artists and photographers from the era. The show, he says, aims to explore the decade's artistic collaboration – and give platform to those who did not receive due recognition at the time.
"Institutions often failed to celebrate the truly innovative creators because they did not have the expected background," he observes.
This project itself uses a different approach, forgoing traditional advertising in favour of integrated partnerships. "Our approach is, what can we achieve in partnership? Is it an experience, a podcast? The magazine is part of a greater ecosystem."
Currently, Enninful operates as one of the world's most influential creative power brokers. His story, he believes, is a demonstration to the power of following your instincts.
How would the Enninful of that era think of the his current self? He chuckles. "He’d be in shock, but he’d be pleased. At that time I was anti-establishment. I never imagined institutions like Tate were necessarily for me."
He pauses. "Nothing is assumed. We lost our home, we left our homeland. I almost lost my vision. So there is no room for fear. People have underestimated me my whole career. But I am unstoppable once I’ve made up my mind to do something."