The Gap 1995 - 2005, Collage Design by Aja PatriceCourtesy of Getty Images and GAP Inc.

At the top of 2020 who would’ve predicted what lied ahead of us within just a few months later and I’m not talking just about the pandemic. With the turn of 2020’s the future seems to be taking a backseat, as media including the Fashion and TV/Film industries alike continue to indulge in yesteryear; tapping into our childhoods with television and movie reboots like Bel Air and The Matrix to fashion and beauty statements of the early aughts making a comeback through shows like Euphoria. Of course, Stranger Things is in a class of its own. Perhaps it’s because many of us, myself included long for less chaotic times. Both the nation and the world over seem to be going through a major shift and the feelings of not knowing which way is up is frustrating and can become disheartening. Thus, why not revert to a time when things seemed to be simpler, less cynical and to have more harmony, even if it wasn’t always the case.

Like the '90s era specifically between 1995 – 2005 which recently struck a chord in me while listening to one of the Gap Inc.’s growing curated playlists, that was created on Spotify and updated during the pinnacle of the pandemic. The Gap store announced the curated playlists from its original store soundtracks over the years, by former longtime employees via Instagram stories. My curiosity was struck when I came across their playlist curated from spring 1995. If you didn’t have the opportunity to work at the Gap during that era or ever, this story may not hit you the same way, although the feelings of being immersed in one of their most iconic decades for music and fashion could evoke the same sentiments.

Granted, I was barely out of elementary school in ‘95 although, this was the year in which, the era of loving the Gap’s culture began for me. It was the mid-rise relaxed fit denim jeans without an ounce of stretch, the oversized comfy 100% cotton GAP logo pullover sweaters, in bold colors like red and deep navy blue. I vividly remember my sister buying me a pair of thick neon green ribbed socks, when she worked there during her freshmen year of university in 1997. In fact, I still have them quaintly folded in a sock drawer to this day, Gap’s socks were made different back then before fast fashion poisoned the market, with a dedication to quality and sustainability.

Naomi Campbell for Gap, 1992Photo Courtesy of Gap Inc.

It was that special period between Maxwell, Jamiroquai and Fiona Apple playing on rotation throughout the stores sound systems on repeat, creating an integral soulful beatnik café. Where the hardwood floors would click and clank with the sound of suede clogs, Chelsea boots, Timb’s and running sneakers or basketball kicks from customers and sales associates respectively, racing around, pulling at items to purchase or try on. Before spraying themselves with scents like “Grass,” I still don’t know how that pungent lawnmower de parfum made it pass testing.

Even though, that signature scent and the classic denim jackets sustained my love affair with the normcore clothing store during that era. When the crux of their coolest commercials hit the screen, including full out theatrical Broadway performances to advertise the latest khakis and denim du jour. The layers of crispy pastel button ups with feminine cardigans and, did I mention denim? During that peak era Gap was able to create an intersection between Hip hop and the Black American culture while intertwining mainstream western fashion, making cargo pants and plain white t-shirts a staple for all types of people. From LL Cool J rapping acapella in a denim jeans and button up denim shirt tied around his waist, including the unforgettable F.U.B.U baseball cap and, the funked-out rendition of “Mellow Yellow,” to the fabulous Khaki Soul commercial with a modern update of Bill Withers’ “Lovely Day” choreographed by the one and only Fatima.

Once I heard the old Kanye rap about being a Gap employee (“let’s go back, back to the Gap”) on “Spaceship” from his debut album College Dropout the culture, that decade was solidified. Sarah Jessica Parker and Lenny Kravitz sharing an ad for cardigans and bootcut jeans with just the icing on this denim blue cake. When I had the pleasure of working at the Gap during my Junior year of university and becoming a “Denim Expert.” Something, I hadn’t known existed until they asked me to take on the task after just a few weeks in. Literally trying on all the jeans, the store had in stock for women and being able to effortlessly describe every fit and wash for anyone who asked, was equally enlightening and exciting.

Unfortunately, I needed to focus more intently on my senior year and having internships under my belt which ended my time working at the Gap store. When I recently listened to Jamiroquai’s “Canned Heat” from their Summer ‘99 playlist it was instant nostalgia in my soul. A necessary feeling during such an uncertain and wavering time, it allowed me to revisit those special moments when happiness was just about finding the perfect pair of hip-hugging flared, medium washed jeans and a denim jacket to coordinate for spring fling or finding the perfect mix of a crazy stripe’s sweater and knitted hat and scarf to rock on a crisp day in November.

As I mentioned earlier, we are all clamoring for nostalgia for multiple reasons and to that point, ironically the Gap is now revisiting a classic '90s denim trend. The Mid Rise '90s Loose Jeans retail price, $69.95. Clearly, we're tapping into something necessary. The era embodied a significant timeframe that the Gap store was able to aesthetically cultivate, which will never be duplicated, and the best part is, I was there for the ride.

Mid Rise '90s Loose JeansPhoto Courtesy of Gap.com