source: pinterest 

Something borrowed: what the 90s bride knew that we've forgotten

We all have a love-hate relationship with the algorithm, but in an era of infinite choice and constant documentation, have we lost something from that last age of innocence? Phoebe Luckhurst explores 

21 JULY 2026

by Phoebe Luckhurst

Source: Pinterest 

Within hours of getting engaged in July 2022 - and sharing a slightly blurry, happy, tipsy photo of us both on Instagram - the algorithm knew. It started as a trickle and became a tsunami: dresses, obviously, but everything else too, from venues and caterers to photographers. We decided on our plan fairly quickly - a London wedding, sharing plates, 140-ish people for a big knees-up - but that was just the beginning. Did we want a videographer or a Super 8mm filmmaker? Would the vegans be okay with falafel? Would anyone appreciate the emotional significance of embroidered napkins?

 

After yet another exhausting discussion about the canapé-to-guest ratio and whether our save the dates should be printed or paperless, my mum mused about her 90s wedding. “We didn’t have to think about any of this in my day," she said.

 

Instead, it was one dress for the occasion: either an elegant silk slip or something gloriously frou-frou, worn once then stored away for posterity. A three-course wedding breakfast. A photographer plucked from the Yellow Pages, and an uncle capturing some wobbly footage of the first dance on his camcorder. The wedding DJ was under no pressure to create a playlist that conjured your ‘essence’ as a couple, but simply to make sure Come On Eileen was blasted out at some point.

 

There were no Pinterest boards, no multi-tab spreadsheets, no personalised websites. There was no content strategy for the day - which can now amount to a sort of Scorsese-scale production, complete with hashtags, highlight reels and behind-the-scenes footage.

Recently, after watching Disney’s Love Story, which showed the beautiful simplicity of John F. Kennedy Jr and Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy’s nuptials - a small, rustic ceremony complete with a cappella singers and the bride’s iconic Narciso Rodriguez bias-cut slip dress - I found myself wistful for a simpler era. 

Within hours of getting engaged in July 2022 - and sharing a slightly blurry, happy, tipsy photo of us both on Instagram - the algorithm knew. It started as a trickle and became a tsunami: dresses, obviously, but everything else too, from venues and caterers to photographers. We decided on our plan fairly quickly - a London wedding, sharing plates, 140-ish people for a big knees-up - but that was just the beginning. Did we want a videographer or a Super 8mm filmmaker? Would the vegans be okay with falafel? Would anyone appreciate the emotional significance of embroidered napkins? 

 

After yet another exhausting discussion about the canapé-to-guest ratio and whether our save the dates should be printed or paperless, my mum mused about her 90s wedding. “We didn’t have to think about any of this in my day," she said. 

 

Instead, it was one dress for the occasion: either an elegant silk slip or something gloriously frou-frou, worn once then stored away for posterity. A three-course wedding breakfast. A photographer plucked from the Yellow Pages, and an uncle capturing some wobbly footage of the first dance on his camcorder. The wedding DJ was under no pressure to create a playlist that conjured your ‘essence’ as a couple, but simply to make sure Come On Eileen was blasted out at some point.  

As the world gets more complicated, the collective sigh of yearning for the 90s grows louder

There were no Pinterest boards, no multi-tab spreadsheets, no personalised websites. There was no content strategy for the day - which can now amount to a sort of Scorsese-scale production, complete with hashtags, highlight reels and behind-the-scenes footage. 

 

Recently, after watching Disney’s Love Story, which showed the beautiful simplicity of John F. Kennedy Jr and Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy’s nuptials - a small, rustic ceremony complete with a cappella singers and the bride’s iconic Narciso Rodriguez bias-cut slip dress - I found myself wistful for a simpler era.

 

As the world gets more complicated, the collective sigh of yearning for the 90s grows louder. In the 90s, people didn’t treat their weddings like the hard launch of a personal lifestyle brand; the word ‘wedmin’ didn’t exist (nor, indeed, did bilious hen-do WhatsApp groups).  

As the world gets more complicated, the collective sigh of yearning for the 90s grows louder

Source: Pinterest


Then again, without all the noise - of Pinterest, of Instagram - where it’s easier than ever to pick up nuggets of inspiration from other people’s weddings - I do wonder whether things ever felt a little homogeneous. Back then, weddings were typically more prescribed: led by the venue, convention or parents rather than by the couples themselves. I suspect that many brides’ creative input amounted to choosing fabric chair sashes (organza or jacquard?) - not because they lacked ideas, but because tradition so often dictated. 

I also suspect that, had we married in the 90s, my husband would not have done his fair share of wedding admin. For all the modern pressures around weddings, planning them has arguably become a more equal endeavour. 

 

Thirty years later, I’m always delighted by the imagination my friends bring to their weddings: the creativity of the menu design, the eclecticism of the venues - an old railway station, a Sicilian villa. My parents didn’t seem to have anywhere near as much fun at weddings as I do now, perhaps because many guest lists were shaped by family obligations. Today, many couples have more freedom to invite who they please.  

 

And yes, the algorithm left my head spinning - but it also made plenty of things easier. We could browse multiple venues in minutes. We found a florist we really liked without leaving the sofa. For me, it’s about using your feeds to your advantage, committing, and learning when to stop scrolling before decision fatigue hits. 

 

The question isn’t “was it better in the 90s?”, but rather: what can we borrow from a simpler time?

 

Fashion-wise, the slip dress remains hard to beat. Natural make-up means you’ll look like yourself, not an Instagram filter. And leaving your phone in your clutch bag means you can enjoy the moment rather than document every second of it.

Simplicity doesn’t mean staid - it means celebrating the day for what it is, rather than sweating the small stuff. And dancing to Come On Eileen, which is still a banger. 

 

@phoebeluckhurst

 

 

 

 

Source: Pinterest

Source: Pinterest

374 Loves: Best of the 90s

What's in our basket? The 90s edition

Meller

£49

Film Camera Store

from £65

The OWN Studio

£1150

Manolo Blahnik

Carolyne 50 satin slingback pumps

£775

The OWN Studio

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Ioana Ciolacu

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Jennifer Behr

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