My 90s fashion statements are still going strong

At the age of 11, my daughter is suddenly fashion conscious, at least when it comes to clothes. At the age of 11, I was wearing whatever my mother bought me from a variety of small town clothing stores and jumble sales.

Actually, that’s not strictly true. From 11 and right on through my teenage years, I mostly wore the clothes my younger brother had grown out of. He was a big lad.

This week our daughter was musing at the kitchen table about the style choices of the current generation of teens - leisure wear and midriff-exposing tops apparently. I assume that’s mainly the girls.

“What did teenagers wear when you were young?” she asked.

Of course, she’ll learn soon enough that to ask your parents about their youth is to invite an immediate, delighted, and probably lengthy nostalgia trip – especially if your folks went to sixth form college together and can therefore vouch for each other’s foibles and faux pas.

And so it was, as we recalled the teenage tribes of the mid- to late-90s: the indie kids; the goths (like EMOs, we explained, but edgier); the grunge mob, veering to grebby dishevelment. There were the coloured Doc Martins, lumberjack shirts, cargo pants and daft hats. Music was central to so much, but the influence of TV shows like Friends was pretty obvious too.

I liked to remember the V-neck t-shirts with matching sleeve and collar trim, which were as close I got to indie cool. My wife claimed she carried in her dress sense a hint of goth. An oblique hint, as far as I recall.

But the truth is that, for the most part, both of us dressed as the majority of people did then and did now: modestly and conventionally. My wife still giggles at a pair of white baggy jeans I favoured, which were overly loose only because they had been my brother’s and he was two sizes bigger than me. And I did go through a brief phase of nail-painting: but it was blue and sparkly, and oddly confined to my thumbs. Not quite Kurt Cobain. All in all, though, things I wore when I was 18, I’d probably wear now at 42.

In fact, some of the clothes I wear now actually do date from the era of my youth. A short-sleeve grey hoodie is as cutting edge now as it was when I picked it up from a middle of the road shop in Cambridge in 1997. A pair of Adidas tracksuit trousers I got when I was at university are still my go to evening wear for a night in front of the box or a quiet summer stroll round the block.

Even the clothes that are relatively recent purchases are basically just less threadbare versions of things I was rocking two and half decades ago. True, I mostly keep my combat trousers for gardening and decorating nowadays – but if All Saints pop round unexpectedly for tea and scones, I’ll never ever be caught out.

Recently the thought has occurred to me that I may actually be done with new clothes for good. I have nine checked shirts at a conservative estimate, and at least half a dozen plain ones. I’ve got a large pile of t-shirts of various colours and a whole drawer full of jumpers. A lot of them need elbow patches, but I have a good number of leather pieces that I cut from an old bag, which are just waiting to give my woollens a new lease of life.

Trousers are a little more problematic for someone as wriggly as me. On at least three occasions in my professional life I’ve had to go and buy new trews during my lunch break after realising I’ve worn a hole in the seat. But in the end, how many options does a man need when it comes to leg coverings? Given a fair wind, I reckon my current wardrobe (which includes a nice cardigan and a solid tweed jacket) could probably do me till I die – even if I crack on for another half a century.

So, what did I wear in the 90s dear child of mine? The same as I wear now and the same as I plan to wear in my 90s. Trends may come and go, but for those of us who know what’s what, dress sense is timeless.