The ’90s supermodel–inspired Perfect Summer Jean is back, and we’ve got summer memories on the brain.
We know it’s only spring and, of course, we are so thankful for longer days, warmer air and all the possibilities that comes with that. But upon the reissue of our Perfect Summer Jean (with that ’90s supermodel–inspired rise and a better-than-vintage fit), we’ve been reminiscing on some carefree, summery and—not to age ourselves—’90s memories. As an homage to our favorite comeback, we asked six staffers to share their perfect ’90s summer memories.
I had long admired from afar the skater kids’ style at my school, especially their mop top hairdos, so one summer I got a perm. I loved it so much, I even sported it at Disney World that year (a destination that destroyed any indie cred I may have earned with my new friends).
I had a gig scooping ice cream, so I was stuck indoors while my friends hung out at the pool. But it was worth it every time my crush visited me. I’d give him loads of free ice cream—topped with sprinkles of romance, of course.
Like everyone everywhere, the summer I got my driver’s license was epic. I learned the beauty of blasting music with the windows down. My car was so old that it didn’t have a tape deck, so I kept my boom box in the backseat and played two CDs religiously: Ben Lee and Wilco. They skipped every time I drove over a bump.
My friends and I were in love with our tennis instructor—a human Ken doll—and we baked him a huge batch of cookies. They were terrible, but nothing says summer quite like sun-kissed hair and skin, tennis lessons and a major crush.
I spent a few summers as a camp counselor. After the campers went to bed, the counselors would sneak out to go skinny dipping and drink bottles of cheap wine by the river. It was perfect—I’ll probably never have another job where I’m paid to float on a pool raft.
My friends and I would spend all day walking up and down the boardwalk in Asbury Park, and by sundown we’d always find ourselves at Wonder Bar or Asbury Lanes. If we got lucky, we would sneak in to watch a band at the Stone Pony. It was the four of us—me and my three best friends—just loving the freedom of being teenagers.