Issue link: https://www.balharbourdigital.com/i/867968
a medieval fantasia featuring those shining stars of the '90s modeling galaxy: Carolyn Murphy, Audrey Marnay and Maggie Rizer. Believe it or not, right at this very minute, your little niece and her sulky friends are rummaging through your attic in search of the latest must-have accessory—a black nylon Prada sack. But no need for you to settle for the second hand-model—Prada continues to offer its iconic backpacks, totes and wallets with the little silver triangle we loved so much back in the day. But perhaps the highest—and at the same time lowest— manifestation of this craving to relive the halcyon days of the Clinton impeachment hearings and the OJ Simpson trial is the renaissance of grunge. Time to unearth that 33 rpm Nirvana album and turn up the volume on "Smells Like Teen Spirit" The original runway incarnation of this trend cost Marc Jacobs his job at Perry Ellis back in 1992, when he had the audacity to introduce thrift shop styles on a runway, pairing sheer dresses with clunky boots, popping hunting vests over flowery confections, wedding maximal plaid skirts to minimal t-shirts. Perhaps the apotheosis of the plunge into grunge can be said to take place at Gucci, where the nutty cross-pollination, the radical mixology, is dramatic and inspiring—a joyful noise combining tartans and blossoms, appliques and tweeds. If the original proponents of all this brilliant mayhem were those grunge princesses who stomped gleefully into fashion two decades ago, who can blame their daughters and granddaughters for stepping into flimsy frocks and thirsty boots, in search of a good time too? 94 BAL HARBOUR Believe it or not, right at this very minute, your little niece and her sulky friends are rummaging through your attic in search of the latest must-have accessory. PHOTO BY TRUNK ARCHIVE