20 Ways Today's Rappers Dress Differently Than in the '90s

Image via Complex Original

When TLC hit the red carpet with Dr. Dre at the 1994 American Music Awards, they rolled through in some of the most oversized overalls seen in award show history. Now, as skinny jeans become even less taboo (we can thank the 2000s for that) thanks to dudes like Kanye West, Wiz Khalifa, A$AP Rocky, and yes, even Lil Wayne. For today's rapper, oversized is more akin to a longline shirt than it is to a copping your whole wardrobe in size XXXL. That's not to say that oversized silhouettes are on the out, but are we seeing rappers dressing like they came straight out of a Das EFX promotional photo? Not as much.

With Jordan effectively running the NBA back in the '90s, you were a chump if you didn't have a least one pair of J's grace your feet. But today's sneakerhead rappers have much more than the Jumpman to look to as a jumping off point for fire kicks. Sure adidas is as relevant today as they were back in the '80s, but with major fashion houses like Balenciaga, visvim, Saint Laurent Paris and Maison Margiela making sneakers that aren't just luxurious, but sometimes even ape the original models from Nike and adidas. Add in brands like Del Toro, Filling Pieces, and Greats, and well, let's say that Jordan has a lot of competition.

With hip-hop style taking heavy cues from whatever city you were from, there's no doubt that “all black everything” began as a L.A. style. And before you head to the comments to cry out that “N.W.A. wasn't the only crew wearing black,” we're not implying that. But it doesn't take a viewing of Straight Outta Compton to realize that they were one of the few groups (if not the group) pioneering the look in the '90s. Of course, that isn't the case today—especially in a world where the Harlem-founded street goth tradition took hold of hip-hop. The trend may not be as widespread in 2015 as it was a few years ago, but with guys repping Y-3 sneakers and Rick Owens, the all-black everything movement is far from a few L.A. Raiders caps.

With brands like Supreme, Palace, and Gosha Rubchinskiy making waves among “the youth” skate-centric labels are more than just a niche, they're making the rounds on the backs of everyone from Tyler the Creator to A$AP Rocky. Of course, considering the brand wasn't founded until about halfway into the decade, a lot of '90s rappers weren't going to be repping the then-low key NYC skateshop. But that doesn't mean that '90s icons aren't into the brand—do we need to remind you of the 2005 masterpiece, staring a trifecta of Raekwon, his bodyguard, and Tickle Me Elmo?

As cool teens™ leave their mark on everything from music to fashion, there's a major rise in the “dad cap” movement. Sure, it's nothing more than a soft cotton canvas hat with a curved brim, but considering its surburban dad lineage, the idea that they'd appear on the heads of Wiz Khalifa and Drake (to name just a few) is a far cry from the fitted caps, snapbacks, and (perhaps more importantly) bucket hats that dominated 20 years ago.

In the '90s, it was all about Timbs, Clarks Wallabees, and basketball sneakers, and why not? The decade is host to some of the NBA's greatest personalities and teams. But with the advent of the Internet, global styles from Europe and Japan have crossed over to our shores, making it easier to rep a pair of low top trainers and running shoes without looking like you just suited up in Steve Jobs' closet. Sure New Balances had a place in the '90s, but you can bet that they were repped a lot harder in the suburbs than they were in the streets. Add in the rise of grime and acts like Skepta, and you can bet that trainers are just as relevant as the latest Jordan release.

You have to respect dudes like Young Thug (and to a certain extent Kanye West) for their ability to look beyond gender when it comes to arranging their personal styles. Back in the 1990's you'd more likely see a dude with his shirt off than you'd see anybody rocking a skirt—or a little girl's dress. But while masculinity was firmly established among hip-hop's most notable names, today's rapper doesn't have to worry as much riding with established gender norms. As high-fashion continues to proliferate more and more into rapper's wardrobes, the belief that “fashion” is exclusively for the ladies is drifting into myth (skirts and dresses included).

This isn't to say that streetwear didn't exist in the '90s. Brands like Stussy, Triple Five Soul, Ecko Unltd., and even '92's Phat Farm helped kick off the concept of an “urban” or “streetwear” brand. But don't get it twisted, as the streetwear industry adds new labels to its ranks on daily basis—and unrelated brands co-op the aesthetic to inject the cool into their product offering…well, the scene is far different than it was 20 years ago. Besides, as brands like Off-White take the streetwear mentality and elevate it enough to compete for the LVMH prize, it's a far cry from streetwear's original intentions and audience.

Maybe this has something to do with the voodoo powers of The Based God, but there's plenty of rappers swapping out fat, gold chains for wooden beads that look straight from the Buddhist monastery. Sure, “conscious” and “real” rappers like Common had been reaching their spirtual sides when they decided to rock their jewelry (or rather, lack thereof), but the giant and gaudy chains of the late '80s and early '90s have been minimized into a far more subdued way. That's not say that gold chains are out of hip-hop on all fronts (insert Atlanta rappers here), but the idea that your Jesus piece has to be a gilded version of his face just isn't the case anymore.

With the rise of Southern rap scenes in the mid to late 2000's hip-hop's seen explosion of “chopped-n-screwed” and trap styles cross well beyond the city limits of Houston and Atlanta. As we've said before, it's not that chains and rings aren't seen on today's rappers, but niche regional pieces…cough—grills—cough….have extended well beyond their original scenes. With rappers like A$AP Rocky exporting the Houston sound to the streets of Harlem, it's not surprising that even the smaller details of those regions would make the trip uptown as well.

From giant Polo logos to Versace's medusa head, if a rapper was wearing a high fashion brand back in the day, you can bet you'd most likely see it from about a mile off. That's not to say that today's rappers aren't interested in that gear as well, but minimal or logo-less designs from labels like Raf Simons, Maison Margiela, and Saint Laurent Paris, are indications that guys aren't about wearing their designer wardrobes on their sleeves. That's not to say that guys aren't about the flashy labels (look at Migos for proof that that flow is far from dead and gone), but are a majority of dudes consistently coming through in head-to-toe Gucci logos—we don't think so.

Just like the gaudy designer duds that dudes repped heavily in the '90s, the decade was also home to labels like Zubaz and Cross Colours; The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air was running on T.V., and…well, guys were all about being loud as hell when it came to patterned clothes. Tribal prints layers on top of horizontal stripes weren't something that you might spot in the middle of an episode of Martin, crazy patternwork crossed up on everyone from Snoop to Biggie's Coogi sweaters. With the rise of understated designer labels—including Kanye West's Yeezy Seasons—rappers are peacocking, not through crazy colors, but with interesting silhouettes and intricate styling. Sure rapper favorite Off-White has plenty of patterns and colors in each collection, but no one can deny that they have a little more subtlety than a pair of Zubaz trousers and a Starter jacket.

Without a doubt, one of the biggest trends of the last few years has to be “athleisure”—but more specifically sweatpants. In the '90s, the local sports shop was one of a few places that sold sweats, and when you wore them out of the house, you were likely going to, or coming from the gym. Now, as everyone from Nike to Balmain has their take on the modern day (see: tailored and tapered) sweatpant, the humble homewear staple is completely different from it's casual origins. Once you realize you can wear a pair of modern-day tapered sweats to work, that's when you know it's far from the loungewear it used to be.

Rappers have been wearing sports jerseys for decades, and that's certainly something that's not going to change anytime soon. But while guys may have worn oversized NHL jerseys or a NBA tanktop, you can bet they weren't repping European soccer clubs like Real Madrid and Arsenal. It's hard to nail down why guys like Meek Mill and Young Thug have been seen out and about in “football” jerseys, but considering that rappers notoriety is more international than ever, it makes sense that their wardrobes go more international as well. Besides, with some of the world's most wealthy teams, there's no shame in flaunting some of the world's most successful—even if rappers don't know the difference between the Champions League and the Europa League.

A$AP Rocky and Tyler, the Creator's current tour merch includes a pink longsleeve T-shirt. Everyone from Chief Keef to Young Thug have been seen wearing the color at one point or another. Sure, Cam'ron helped push the color into the spotlight with his over-the-top pink Range Rover and notorious mink coat, but back in the '90s, you'd be hard pressed to see any of hip-hop's most notable repping the once-female exclusive shade. As gender lines blur, it's harder to isolate a single color to female-audiences only. But don't front, can you imagine a retro Tupac, Biggie, or Public Enemy tour T-shirt in any shade of pink? Yeah, we didn't think so.

“Ralph Lauren was boring before I wore him” said Kanye West in his guest verse on Rhymefest's “Brand New”. Sure, 'Lo Heads made Polo a street staple in the '90s, but they certainly weren't prepped out like Ye was in the late 2000s. It's hard to imagine rappers not wearing polo shirts today, but back in the '90s, you'd be hard pressed to see a rapper step out in anything remotely related to the country club or Ivy League campuses. That's not to say rappers didn't flaunt their wealth, but if we're honest, it would make more sense to see an album cover containing more Carhartt and Dickies than popped collars and cable knits. Remember, while lots of dudes wore Polo Sport back in the '90s, that doesn't mean they were repping Polo's rugby shirts and prepper pieces—at least not until the '90s wrapped.

While we often cite and recycle our favorite pieces, logos, and artifacts from earlier decades, in the '90s, wearing retro pieces wasn't nearly as common as it is right now. Sure cats might have had a piece from the '70s or the '80s, but considering that today's rappers mine the '90s for much of the sportswear, outerwear, and tees that we see them repping today, when you think about it—what's retro now obviously wasn't retro back then. Those insanely colored Starter jackets? Those wildly printed windbreakers? The Jordan V through XV? All '90s drops. Hard to be wearing retros when the pieces aren't…well, retro.

As rappers became moguls as the turn of the century, it was not uncommon for rappers to swap out their oversized Carhartt jackets for Tom Ford blazers. Sure Diddy and Hov led the charge on this movement initially, but like hip-hop's burgeoning connection to high-end luxury fashion, you can catch everyone from A$AP Rocky to Future suiting up for everything from Mr Porter editorials to the Met Gala. Hell, even Future's interest in fedoras and wide brim hats is a small formal wear touch that's crossed over to his daily style. While '90s rappers weren't adverse to suiting up when the situation called for it, on the whole, you certainly weren't going to see them hitting a red carpet in tailored tux.

Bape really changed the game. If there's one thing that's helped solidify the Japanese streetwear brand in the modern hip-hop lexicon, it's its iconic Bape head camo print. But Bape's not the only one running with camo printed gear. Most streetwear brands have at least one or two pieces in their roster that have the classic military print, and even Kanye West's (admittedly, military-inspired) Yeezy Season 2 collection were heralded with camouflage Rotcho longsleeve tees. Back in the '90s, you can bet that much of the military wear seen on the backs of groups like Bone Thugs-n-Harmony was copped at an Army surplus shop. Today, whether its Bape or Maharishi, camouflage is far from a military supplier exclusive.

All in all, these points are leading up to a bigger picture—fashion is co-opting hip-hop, not the other way around. Labels like Hood By Air and Off-White pay homage to hip-hop's style foundations, and have helped to introduce rappers to the concept of…well, conceptual high fashion. Add in the swell of traditional designers not just catering to rappers (shouts to Givenchy and Balmain), but directly pulling hip-hop style staples like graphic tees, Timbs, and sneakers and turning them into designer pieces—well, rappers really are the new rockstars.