hairAngered by Vivienne Westwood’s words, The Observer’s 1985 Youth Style issue made a statement. The Queen of Punk, in her usual combative spirit, lamented the fading energy of the streets. She argued that British style had “started to endorse eccentricity for its own sake. We need to grow up and look around us.”
Youth culture was suffering an identity crisis, “splitting into a hundred million pieces” according to Peter York, and exhibiting “gaudy, aggressive diversity”. Marketing was no longer aimed at the 16-24 age group but at older generations, and new chains like Next and Principles targeted affluent 25-35 year olds. “What had changed was the assumption that young people were special, the only source of spending money and therefore the only source of wisdom.”
What has changed is the belief that youth is something special.
Critical hype rarely translates into commercial support, as the industry is unwilling to take the risk of backing a young, home-grown designer. Rob Leach and Tracy Wingrove’s first collection was particularly well-received by Harper’s and Vogue, but the pair soon found themselves “emptying their order books, financially confused and disillusioned,” as they explain. They wanted to cut out the middle man and buy a store.
Youngsters themselves were inspired by a new breed of magazines, particularly the “style leader” The Face. Founded by editor Nick Logan with his building society savings, it was glossy, “self-indulgent” and just for his own enjoyment, but its influence extended far beyond its 70,000 subscribers, and “its ideas spread throughout the industry”, Logan explained.
The secret to Smash Hits’ success was avoiding “painful self-consciousness” thanks to song lyrics, full-color photography, and new writers (including one who was described as “doing his hair with raw eggs and orange juice”). Just Seventeen followed a formula of “fashion, fiction, pop stars, and honest advice” and avoided diet talk. “There’s enough misery around without us contributing to it,” editor Dave Hepworth commented.
For a change of pace, comedian Ade Edmondson dressed up as a British fashion tribe: Hooray Henry, Casual, Gender Bender, Headbanger, Punk and Normal. “Am I stupid?” he asked, arguably the easiest 1985-style question to answer.
