91 Vintage has been the swap-meet and market for vintage sportswear and streetwear in Melbourne for the last 5 years. The iconic market was founded by Bonny, who lovingly ran 91 Vintage for 5 years. This year, she handed over the keys to Jonathan Chai, who now runs the event.
Bonny’s selection of Chai was far from random. Chai, 24, has been embedded in the Melbourne streetwear scene since he relocated from Queensland at the age of 17. When Chai first moved to Melbourne he began thrifting and accumulating vintage streetwear, and eventually started his own selling business, Sneaky Dingo, with his fried Dom. Sneaky Dingo became one of the local streetwear community’s most trusted sellers for coveted garments, and a clear choice for Bonny when the time came to pass the 91 Vintage torch.
Since he’s stepped into the role, Chai has run his first market, which had a record turnout of over 1000 people. All the regular patrons and streetwear heads were there, as well as newcomers to the scene. Chai was also there, manning the doors and welcoming and thanking each individual that came through with a cheerful grin.
Chai is days out from running his second 91 Vintage market on the 11th of December, and Complex AU sat down with him to chat about his vision for 91 Vintage, the sense of responsibility he feels for the streetwear community, and his love for the hustle.
It’s been a big year for you, congrats on taking over 91! Working towards being able to run these kinds of events has been quite the journey. How did you get into sportswear and vintage?
I mean, it was always about what the cool kids were wearing, (laughs). Nah, but it’s the same for all of us, you know? My friends in high school would be on fashion subreddits and looking at Tumblr, I’d be getting linked fits here and there as well. At that time [in 2015], it was all about the classics: Adidas Ozweegos, Supreme BOGO hats, Palace tees—the true classic shit.
I also went to Malaysia as a teenager and I would see fake shit there and still think, “that’s so fresh.” I couldn’t afford the real shit, and that was as close as I was going to get. I was like 14 or something, and I bought a fake Supreme shirt that said “f*ck” on it. I thought it was so fresh, but I was living with my parents and there was no way I was getting away with wearing it. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how I was going to get out of the house with a tee that said f*ck on it. I don’t think I ever wore it, it just sat at the back of my cupboard—but having it was enough.
That kinda kick-started it, and when I moved to Melbourne I started thrifting and buying shoes for cheap—mostly for myself. At some point I had the thought, “I could probably make a bit of money off this,” so then my friend Dom and I started Sneaky Dingo. Dom was already friends with Bonny then, so we pretty much had a stall at our first 91 Vintage market a few months later [in 2018]—I think that was only the second 91 Vintage ever. It did a lot for Sneaky Dingo, and was really the catalyst for Sneaky Dingo transitioning into a small business.
Bonny and I had a great work relationship that developed organically, and then one day out of the blue she asked me if I wanted to take over 91 which was just insane and the biggest blessing—to go from being a store holder to getting given the keys.
You’ve mentioned in the past that Bonny and 91 were a part of your journey to becoming a seller. What was it like when she gave you the keys? And just generally taking on the responsibility of upholding the cultural pillar that is 91 Vintage?
It’s very, very nerve-racking. This is probably one of the biggest things I’ll ever do in my life—running a market that hundreds of people attend, and having the responsibility of building it up again to make it the community space it was before Covid. Particularly post-Covid, the desire for physical community events and interactions is strong, and it’s definitely something we’re focused on. It’s why I try to have a diverse range of store holders, from sportswear and true vintage to streetwear and vintage military. I want the store holders to be able to interact with a new audience who really like their stuff, but I also don’t want people to have to spend a lot of money as a customer—you can come down and look at things you might’ve never seen before, or stuff that you have a passion for. I think just coming out of Covid, and coming back into the world, we’ve all learnt the value of touching garments again instead of just seeing them [online].
We know how easy it is for the streetwear community to be insular. How do you continue to make the community inclusive?
I think the beautiful thing about 91 is that it’s built up its community so organically. We’ve had regular customers who’ve shown up every time there’s been one on—and they’ve bought their friends, and their friends have bought their friends and so on. That’s what makes the 91 community so inviting—it’s an open space for you and your friends to shop cool shit, and that gives [people] the confidence to continue showing up. That’s all streetwear is really, an avenue for confidence. You’ll see it happen too, a kid will pick up an item and his friends will gas him up—he puts it on and they’ll be like, “you have to get it.” He feels so geed up. It’s dope to see.
You seem to have a real gleam in your eyes when you talk about providing that sense of confidence for people via streetwear. Do you still have that love for streetwear—are there still pieces that gee you up?
I feel like I go through stages. I feel like at different points in my life, I still get gassed about pieces, but these days I’m mostly shopping for Sneaky Dingo, and not much ends up in the personal collection. But, I’ll still do a scan when I’m at markets, like looking for steals—that part is still in me. Before selling and the markets, I used to love thrifting, so the markets are like thrifting on crack. Thrifting sucks these days, so sometimes I see a piece or two I like and I might indulge, but it’s all clothes at the end of the day and as a business I have to stay frugal. But I flip between that and being like, clothes last forever.
What’s the goal for 91 Vintage as it continues to grow?
I don’t know man. I’d like to put on bigger events one day, maybe music, some art, some DJs. But all of that comes secondary to continue providing people with a space in which they feel comfortable shopping what they love, and building a community around streetwear. So for now, I’m just focused on that.
