So, the other weekend, I decided it was finally time to tackle the mountain of stuff in the spare room closet. You know how it is, things just pile up over the years.
Anyway, I was digging through this old box, stuffed way in the back, full of papers and magazines I hadn’t seen in ages. And bam, there they were – a stack of fashion magazines from, like, the late 90s and early 2000s. Mostly Vogue, Elle, that kind of thing.
I sat right down on the floor and started flipping through them. It was a real trip down memory lane. Then I hit a section, spread after spread, of Christian Dior stuff. And it wasn’t just any Dior, it was clearly the John Galliano era. You couldn’t mistake it.
Remembering That Vibe
Wow. It all came flooding back. The absolute drama of it all! The crazy makeup, the massive skirts, the whole theatrical production. It wasn’t just clothes, it felt like pure fantasy crammed onto a page.
I spent a good hour just looking at those pictures. I remembered seeing some of those shows on TV, probably on Fashion Television or something back in the day. Thinking how wild and totally out there it all was. Nothing like the stuff you see now, mostly.
- The newspaper print dress – totally remembered that one.
- The super cinched waists and huge shoulders.
- Models looking like strange, beautiful aliens.
It made me think about that time in my own life. I was much younger, obviously. Couldn’t afford anything remotely like that, not even close. It was like looking at art from another planet. But it was exciting, you know? Fashion felt really… bold. Like it wasn’t afraid to be completely ridiculous and over the top.
Seeing those Galliano designs again, after all this time… it was weird. You remember the whole story with him later, the controversy and everything. It adds a layer to looking back at the work itself. Makes you think how things can change so fast, for people and for styles.
It wasn’t really about wanting the clothes then or now. It was more just remembering that specific feeling, that creative explosion. It felt kind of chaotic, but also really energetic. Different from today, where everything feels a bit safer, maybe? Or maybe I’m just older and see things differently.
After a while, I packed the magazines back in the box. Didn’t want to throw them out. It was a strange little journey, just sitting there on the floor with those glossy pages. A reminder of a totally different time, sparked by cleaning out a closet. Funny how that happens.
