viva forever
Twenty years after “Wannabe” set the world on fire, Laura Collins reflects on the Spice Girls’ lasting influence on her own wardrobe
Twenty years ago, the Spice Girls burst onto the world stage, and changed our wardrobes forever.
B efore Netflix, Blu-ray players and the now mostly redundant DVD, there was the humble VHS. It remains a sign of a different time; a simpler time when all you needed was one blank tape to record missed episodes of Home And Away, the Friday-night movie and the season finale of My So-called Life. The impermanent nature of VHS tapes meant the act of breaking off that little square tab – the one on the front near the label, that meant whatever was recorded on that tape, at that moment, was going to stay there forever – was a very serious one. It wasn’t something to be rushed into. That’s why the only tape I ever broke the tab off was my recording of the Spice Girls’ 1997 Girl
Power! concert in Istanbul. I watched that tape every weekend for the rest of ’97, and then some. I still remember the costumes, the dance moves, Geri’s flirtatious winks to camera and Emma’s pink dip-dyed pigtails (a beauty look that would kick off my subsequent years of hair experimentation, from purple hair mascara to the whole spectrum of Fudge Paint Box colours).
A recent “Spice Girls” search on ebay brought up old posters, bubblegum packets, lockable diaries and empty Impulse deodorant cans. An avid collector myself, my dad still keeps my pink plastic Spice Girls mobile phone safe for me in his top drawer. But their influence ran much deeper than just helping me empty my piggy bank each month. I can trace the group’s impact on my personal style back to when I was eight and my mum bought me a pair of platform sneakers, like the ones Baby Spice (my favourite Spice Girl) wore. I thought they were the greatest pair of shoes in the world and my first true heartbreak was the day I discovered I’d outgrown them.
Even now, when I’m in the mood for a little spontaneous online shopping, I fill my cart with impractical sequinned tunics and velvet Mary-janes, instead of the work-appropriate kick-flare trousers and midi heels I actually need. I bought a Victoria Beckham Denim cotton shirt not because she’s a good designer (although by this point, I think it’s pretty clear she is), but because Posh Spice made it. Vetements leather platform boots have been transferred in and out of my Net-a-porter cart more times that I can count on both hands. The one time I’d made it all the way to the “Buy” screen, my boyfriend walked in as I sat typing in my credit card details. I didn’t have the courage to confess I was about to spend my savings on a pair of black boots that looked like every other pair of black boots I own, so I shut the laptop and walked away.
Call it a conspiracy theory, but I’m convinced I’m not the only person the Spice Girls have had an enduring influence on. I can picture Mel B in a pre-fall Stella Mccartney leopardprint jumpsuit, a matching bomber hanging nonchalantly from her shoulders. The sky-high heels seen on the Gucci and Marc Jacobs AW16-17 runways have an air of Emma Bunton about them, if I’m not mistaken. Demna Gvasalia is known to pay tribute to his former employer Martin Margiela in his Vetements collections, but I refuse to believe those platform boots aren’t the subconscious manifestation of his (presumed) ’90s Geri Halliwell preoccupation. Fashion’s obsession with not-for-sweating-in sportswear has lasted more seasons than even Susan Miller could have predicted – surely that’s something Mel C would be high-kicking about? And remember how Posh had a thing for strapless and slip dresses? There’s no doubt in my mind Victoria Beckham was flicking through her old photo albums when searching for AW16-17 inspiration.
The reason the Spice Girls became a global phenomenon is no mystery. Their five personality archetypes – Baby, Sporty, Scary, Posh and Ginger – were designed to fulfil the individual styles of their audience. You could be a little bit Sporty and a little bit Ginger (who, of course, was the sexy one, but that’s not pre-teen appropriate). Or maybe you were mostly Posh, but with a dash of animal-print enthusiast Scary.
Growing up, I fluctuated between Baby and Sporty, which, in a nutshell, meant I liked pastel dresses and pigtails, but occasionally wore crop tops with adidas popper joggers and a high ponytail. Now I’m an adult, I find myself moving between those five archetypes with a fluidity that only comes with age and experience. I take the wardrobe of Posh and the attitude of Scary into a job interview. Baby and Ginger are both front of mind when I’m dressing for a date. Sporty Spice’s abs (and Posh’s ability to pull off a mini-dress) keep me motivated at the gym.
“I TAKE THE WARDROBE OF POSH AND THE ATTITUDE OF SCARY INTO A JOB INTERVIEW. BABY AND GINGER ARE FRONT OF MIND WHEN I’M DRESSING FOR A DATE. SPORTY SPICE’S ABS (AND POSH’S ABILITY TO PULL OFF A MINI) KEEP ME MOTIVATED AT THE GYM”
Of course, this infinite connection between the world of fashion and the enduring kick-ass brand of girl power we have the Spice Girls to thank for could all be in my head. My soft, nostalgic heart sees the wave after wave of ’90s-inspired looks streaming down the runway, along the red carpet and into the office foyer each morning and makes me think back to the first time I wore those trends, when I spent every waking minute worshipping at the altar of Spice. Twenty years from now, I’m sure I’ll see the cycle repeat itself and find myself reminiscing all over again. But you know what they say: friendship never ends.