They say fashion is cyclical, but beauty? Beauty is emotional. It’s tied to our mirrors, our adolescence, the scent of our mother’s lipstick, the way we felt at school dances, or sneaking into our first club. That’s why the return of ‘90s beauty isn’t just a trend. It’s a wave of memory laced with identity—and a signal of a deeper cultural shift.
Yes, brown lipliner is back. The barely-there eyebrows have made their controversial return. Matte foundations and spiky updos are once again front and center. But what’s most fascinating about the resurgence of ‘90s beauty isn’t just what’s on the surface—it’s what it says about the way we see ourselves now, versus how we were expected to present ourselves then.
This isn’t a cut-and-paste return. It’s a reclamation.
When Minimalism Got a Little Messy
If the 1980s were about opulence—blush that could blind, perms that could reach heaven—then the 1990s were about stripping things back. Kate Moss made “heroin chic” disturbingly aspirational. Calvin Klein’s ad campaigns looked like they were shot in someone’s basement with a disposable camera. Lip gloss was ditched for the dry, matte pout. Everything was muted, androgynous, a little undone.
But here’s the thing: that minimalism wasn’t really about ease. It was curated, effortful, precise. The brows may have been thin, but the tweezing was relentless. The matte foundation? Caked on in layers so thick it turned skin into canvas. That “I just woke up like this” vibe was actually code for: I spent 45 minutes blending beige shadow into my crease and then wiped most of it off.
Today, the revival of these looks—especially on platforms like TikTok—isn’t trying to sell the lie of effortless cool. Instead, there’s an honesty to the effort, even a playfulness. Tutorials showing how to recreate Pamela Anderson’s smudged smoky eye don’t hide the technique. We’re not pretending anymore. We’re performing—but on our own terms.
The Brown Lip Liner Renaissance
If there’s one beauty comeback that truly defines this wave, it’s the brown lipliner. Sharp, exaggerated, and unapologetically lined, it’s a beauty move that once drew side-eyes and now earns likes. What once felt “too much” or “too Latina” or “too urban” for mainstream fashion magazines in the ‘90s is now considered high fashion, edgy, and cool.
That cultural shift is not accidental.
Women of color, especially Black and Latina women, have long been pioneers of beauty aesthetics—only to have those same aesthetics dismissed and later repackaged by the mainstream. The brown lipliner’s return feels like a full-circle moment. But this time, the credit is being traced back to the source. TikTok creators and makeup artists are celebrating these roots, giving voice to the origin stories of these trends instead of erasing them.
So yes, Gen Z is lining their lips in shades of espresso and chocolate—but the context is entirely different. It’s not about looking like someone else. It’s about looking like the women we grew up admiring, who made boldness feel like a birthright.
Hair with Attitude
Hair in the ‘90s had its own language. Butterfly clips. Baby bangs. Messy buns that somehow took hours to perfect. Crimped sections layered next to sleek strands. The chaos was intentional, and it gave off an energy of I’m not trying too hard, but also please notice me.
Now, that DIY ethos is back. Except this time, we’re armed with better tools, better products, and a lot more internet guidance. What once required burning your hair with a literal clothes iron is now a few tutorials and a Dyson away.
Spiky buns, à la Gwen Stefani circa 1996, are now popping up on red carpets and runways. Braided tendrils, space buns, flipped ends—they’re all back, but they’re softer, kinder, and less coded. Back then, the pressure to look “cool” was laced with a need to belong. Now? There’s more room to experiment, to be weird on purpose, to wear pigtails at 30 if you feel like it.
Because beauty no longer asks: What should I look like? It asks: How do I want to feel today?
Skin Wasn’t Always In
We often look back at the ‘90s and romanticize its aesthetics, but let’s be honest—skin didn’t always fare well in that era. Foundations were chalky. Shade ranges were abysmal. Skin texture was something to be obliterated, not embraced. Glow? That was a mistake to be powdered away.
Today’s return to matte finishes and velvety skin textures comes with more nuance. We’re no longer punishing our pores for existing. Brands like Fenty, Rare Beauty, and Haus Labs are offering inclusive shades and breathable formulas that marry nostalgia with innovation.
You can go matte and still be kind to your skin. That’s the evolution.
From Commercial to Cool: The Makeup Counter Memories
There’s a specific kind of joy that hits when you spot a tube of Bonne Bell Lip Smackers or a Caboodles makeup case. It’s a sensory throwback to glitter gel, mall trips, and paging through Seventeen magazine while waiting for your mom at the Clinique counter.
That nostalgia is now part of the marketing machine. Brands are reissuing legacy products, or new indie lines are creating packaging that looks lifted from a ‘90s drugstore shelf. But what’s beautiful is the way we’re interacting with it: not to recreate who we were, but to honor who we became.
Buying a grape Lip Smacker now isn’t just about flavor. It’s about reclaiming joy. The 11-year-old who once felt awkward applying it in the back of the school bus? She grew up. And now she’s wearing MAC’s Whirl lip liner to a business meeting.
Less Perfection, More Personality
Perhaps the most liberating shift in the ‘90s beauty revival is the movement away from perfection. Back then, the supermodel look was hyper-specific: flat stomach, perfect bone structure, flawless skin. There was a narrow ideal—and most people didn’t fit it.
Now, there’s space. Social media has blown open the doors on who gets to be beautiful. You don’t need to look like Cindy Crawford to wear a bold red lip and own the room. You can be freckled, pierced, scarred, neurodivergent, trans, curvy, gender-fluid, or acne-prone—and still feel seen.
The revival isn’t just aesthetic. It’s emotional. It’s healing. It’s wearing a throwback look not to blend in, but to stand out—and to stand proud.
