The ’90s Lad Is Making a Comeback. That’s Bad for Men’s Mental Health

Teh Enduring Allure of ’90s Lad Culture: Nostalgia, Legacy, and Change

Stepping into the world of men’s magazines in the early 1990s was like joining a singular, boisterous fraternity.Everywhere you looked, lad culture reigned supreme – splashed across glossy pages, flickering on TV screens, and echoing in the chants of football fans.

The archetype was stark: a swaggering, carefree figure fueled by questionable substances, seemingly untouchable and perpetually ready for a laugh. It was a time of carefree revelry, captured in a timeless pub-fueled snapshot. yet, this fleeting moment of unbridled joy wasn’t built for endurance. After all, the motto was “live for the moment, not the years.”

Cut to 2025, and the echoes of that era are inescapable. Oasis is making a triumphant comeback, *Loaded* magazine has been revived, and *Soccer AM* survives as a podcast. Even Danny Dyer is revisiting his iconic role in *The Football Factory* with a new spin-off, *Marching Powder*. This surge of nostalgia isn’t surprising. The ’90s felt like a golden age of optimism for Britain, and nostalgia, as we all know, holds a powerful sway.”Nostalgia is a powerful force,” confirmed by studies that reveal its ability to boost self-esteem and foster social connection. But before we delve deeper into this phenomenon, it’s essential to understand the complexities of ’90s lad culture, its impact, and its evolving legacy.

The Price of Fame: When Rockstar Lives Mask Mental Health Struggles

The 1990s marked a turning point in cultural attitudes towards masculinity. While women celebrated empowerment through iconic films, feminist movements, and girl-power anthems, men seemed to grapple with these shifts.A vacuum emerged, perhaps leading to the rise of the “lad” persona, a caricature of masculinity defined by excess, recklessness, and a romanticized notion of past generations.

Economic prosperity and low inflation fueled a culture of indulgence, where hedonism wasn’t just acceptable, but desirable. Popular culture mirrored this trend. Magazines like *FHM* celebrated figures like George Best, Hunter S. Thompson,and Oliver Reed,whose lives epitomized alcohol abuse,drug use,and disregard for societal norms.These icons, though, became symbols of a toxic masculinity, leaving little space for conversations about mental health.

Today, the conversation surrounding mental wellness has evolved dramatically. Athletes, including rugby players and former special forces soldiers, openly discuss the importance of mental health and utilize strategies to manage pressure. This shift highlights the stark contrast between the 1990s, where vulnerability was frequently enough seen as weakness, and today’s emphasis on emotional intelligence.

“More than anything, the 90s man had to be funny – to a fault,” reflects a cultural observer. This emphasis on humor, often at the expense of genuine emotion, appears increasingly problematic.Could this constant pressure to be funny have masked deeper struggles, contributing to the normalization of unhealthy coping mechanisms?

while the 1990s may seem distant, its legacy continues to shape our understanding of masculinity and mental health. Recognizing the potential harm of romanticizing reckless behavior and prioritizing humor over vulnerability is crucial. Only then can we truly dismantle toxic masculinity and pave the way for healthier expressions of manhood.

The 90s Man: A Legacy of Pressure and Performance

The image of the 90s man was a carefully crafted myth. Cigarettes and alcohol were status symbols, casual sex was celebrated, and humor, often tinged with a sharp wit, was a tool for navigating a world that demanded an unwavering facade of cool confidence. but did this persona mask a darker reality? Vinnie Jones,the tough-guy actor and former footballer,has been open about his battles with mental health,offering a stark reminder that even the seemingly invincible can struggle in silence.

Professor Jeff Hine, a leading expert in masculinity studies, sheds light on this hidden world, stating, “Those people had deep issues.” Hine points to the example of George Best,a football legend who ultimately succumbed to his inner demons. “George Best wasn’t just ‘a legend,’ he was clearly very mentally ill,” reveals Hine, highlighting the perilous divide between public persona and private turmoil.

Growing up in the 90s, Hine himself felt the immense pressure to conform to this idealized image of masculinity. “I grew up in the ’90s, and I knew I was supposed to be this closed-off, excessive, no-emotions character,” he reflects.This societal expectation of stoicism can be especially damaging for men, who are frequently enough discouraged from expressing vulnerability. It perpetuates a culture of silence around mental health issues, making it more difficult for individuals to seek help when they need it most.

The 1990s witnessed a seismic cultural shift, shaping a distinct archetype of masculinity that permeated popular culture.From music and television to publications like FHM and Loaded, a new vision of “the 90s man” emerged – a complex tapestry interwoven with threads of excess, casual sexuality, and an unwavering commitment to humor.

This era celebrated a life lived on the edge, fueled by the rock-and-roll spirit. As Oasis famously sang, cigarettes and alcohol were the lifeblood of this generation, a belief system embodied by rock stars like liam and Noel Gallagher. They seemed to embody a carefree swagger, suggesting that living life to the fullest was both attainable and admirable.

Sexuality, too, played a pivotal role in defining this man. While The Sun‘s Page three arguably had become somewhat tired and clichéd, a new wave of sexual expression emerged. Blur’s 1995 music video for “Country House,” featuring models in a playful Benny Hill-esque pastiche, perfectly encapsulated this trend. The 90s embraced sexual imagery, often draped in a layer of irony, which allowed it to become mainstream.

Above all else,the 90s man had to be funny. A sharp wit and the ability to defuse tension with a well-placed one-liner were highly prized traits. Jeremy Clarkson, alongside figures like Chris Evans, Frank Skinner, and Danny Baker, became synonymous with this effortlessly cool, offbeat humor. Their casual brilliance was something many aspired to emulate.

Jeremy Clarkson embodies the quintessential 90s man archetype.

The Rise and Fall of the Lad: A Cultural Shift

the carefree hedonism of 1990s lad culture, fueled by casual sex, excessive drinking, and a glorification of machismo, still echoes today. But beneath the veneer of youthful abandon lurked a darker reality: mental health struggles, regrets, and a lasting impact on women.

Steve James, founder of The Cornermen, a men’s mental health institution, witnessed this firsthand. “I was 16 in the mid-1990s,just getting into girls and underage drinking,” he recalls. “It was incredibly seductive and fun – what’s not to like when you’re 16?”

Years later, as a mental health professional, James sees the long-term consequences of this lifestyle. “Many of the men I work with love getting ‘on it’ at the weekend – taking cocaine, ketamine is massive now,” he reveals. “If you keep that going, there’s no meaning or purpose – it’s simply not lasting.”

James observes that many of his clients, men in their 50s and 60s, are grappling with the fallout of past choices. “Some regret never having had a family,” he shares. The dream of endless casual sex,frequently enough touted as a hallmark of lad culture,proves hollow. “People think they can just have sex without emotion,” James says, “but I’m not sure that’s even possible. Sex is incredibly personal and emotional. That was part of the 1990s – sex and rock ‘n’ roll went hand-in-hand.”

1990s lad culture cast a long shadow over women as well. Mariella Frostrup, a prominent columnist and TV presenter, graced the cover of FHM in November 1994.Reflecting on the experience three decades later, she observes, “It was supposed to be this new wave of feminism, where you could drink and swear like men, but we were only allowed to go so far. then it was, ‘Show us yoru tits and have a laugh, and if you don’t want to show us your tits, then you’re a humourless old harridan.'”

frostrup explains that this culture of sexual objectification limited women’s choices and pressured them to conform. “The 1990s was all about women being sexy and guys being dickish,” she concludes.

From “Lads” to Loaded: A Shifting Landscape of British Masculinity

The term “lad” conjures up a specific image: brash,boisterous,and unapologetically driven by pleasure. This archetype, fueled by magazines like *Loaded* and *FHM*, dominated the 1990s British media landscape. James Brown, often credited as the father of the lads’ mag, embodied this era, chronicling his freewheeling lifestyle marked by excess in his memoir, *Animal House*.

Now, at 59, Brown leads a clean and sober life, reflecting on the allure and ultimately destructive nature of the lifestyle he once championed. “They didn’t care about the consensus on what was acceptable British behavior,” Brown explains, reminiscing about figures like George Best, whose unapologetic pursuit of pleasure captivated young men. “when you saw George Best flaunting the lifestyle he had, it was exciting.Young guys looking up to hell-raisers is understandable.”

Brown’s experience, however, led him down a different path. He realized the high price tag attached to unbridled hedonism. “When I realised I probably needed to change my lifestyle, not drink and use drugs any more, what became apparent to me was all these stories we ran at *Loaded* were about people who’d invariably died or fucked up their careers.”

Brown’s reflection offers a valuable lesson about the fleeting nature of fame and the long-term consequences of prioritizing immediate gratification. The “lad” culture, once ubiquitous, has waned, giving way to a more nuanced understanding of masculinity.

Joe Wicks, a modern fitness icon, embodies the shift towards a healthier, more mindful approach to masculinity.

Looking back 30 years, it’s tempting to romanticize the “lad” culture of the 1990s. Living life on simple pleasures – a pint and a good laugh – it truly seems like a time before the weight of modern anxieties. However, someone who witnessed the creation of this archetype firsthand cautions against taking it too seriously.

In the early 90s, a wave of men’s magazines emerged, rewriting the rules of manhood.They aimed to do more than just entertain; they sought to motivate men to become better versions of themselves. one such publication, _Men’s Health_ UK, quickly found its footing despite initial skepticism.

“Their approach struck me as entirely out of touch with the immoderacy of the moment,” said a founding editor, reflecting on those early days.

The Rise and Fall of the Lad: A Cultural Shift

Imagine a magazine landing in your local newsstand, a curious hybrid of testosterone-fueled content and wellness advice. This was the initial landscape of Men’s Health UK in the 1990s, a time when “lad culture” dominated the British social scene. As one observer recalled, “It felt like it had come from another solar system. In the beginning, this magazine also contained writing that wouldn’t have looked out of place in _FHM_, but concurrently occurring, it shared plenty of advice for men who wanted to look and – more importantly – feel better.”

this blend aimed to fuse the UK’s “lad culture,” with its emphasis on camaraderie, sports, and pub culture, with the emerging self-advancement ideals championed by the established Men’s Health US. But even then, a competitive edge simmered beneath the surface.

Fast forward to today,and the world looks vastly different. Men are increasingly open about their mental health, and fitness has become a mainstream concern. “Today,latest figures show that 65 per cent of men in the UK are physically active,” the editor notes. “The Movember movement has over 6 million global supporters, there are nearly 5,000 gyms in the UK and 85 per cent of pubs offer at least one alcohol-free beer.”

This shift is reflected in the rise of figures like Joe Wicks, the “Body Coach,” and Dr. Alex George, the former _Love Island_ contestant who champions mental health awareness. These men offer a new generation diverse role models, moving away from the narrow, often unrealistic, definition of masculinity that once held sway.

But the allure of the ’90s “lad” persists. “Despite all this change,” the editor acknowledges, “that retro man still winks at us, tempting us with an uncomplicated take on life, one where our emotional needs are replaced with laughs and beer.” However, a nuanced understanding is key. “To yearn for the apparent simplicity of that period is entirely understandable, but trust someone who was there when we built the ’90s lad – don’t, whatever you do, take him too seriously.”

From “Lads” to Loaded: How Men’s Health in Britain Has Evolved

The 1990s were a formative era for British masculinity. The lads’ magazine phenomenon, typified by publications like *Loaded* and *FHM*, brought a brash, unapologetically hedonistic approach to manhood to the forefront. james Brown, a prominent figure in this scene, vividly captures the allure of this lifestyle in his memoir, *Animal House*.

Brown’s writing chronicled a world fueled by excess and rebellion against societal norms, a world where figures like George Best became cultural touchstones. “they didn’t care about the consensus on what was acceptable British behavior,” Brown explains. “When you saw George Best flaunting the lifestyle he had,it was exciting. Young guys looking up to hell-raisers is understandable.”

However, Brown’s personal journey took an unexpected turn. Reflecting on his past, he recognized the heavy price tag attached to unbridled hedonism. “When I realised I probably needed to change my lifestyle, not drink and use drugs anymore, what became apparent to me was all these stories we ran at _Loaded_ were about people who’d invariably died or fucked up their careers,” he states.

This shift in perspective coincided with the emergence of a new breed of men’s magazine: publications that aimed to empower men to be better versions of themselves. Among them was _Men’s Health_ UK, which launched in the early 90s with a unique approach.

“Their approach struck me as completely out of touch with the immoderacy of the moment,” a founding editor remarked, highlighting the stark contrast between _Men’s Health_’s message and the prevailing cultural trends. Emerging from the quieter town of Emmaus, Pennsylvania, the magazine seemed to have landed on a different planet. Though it initially blended elements of hypermasculinity found in other publications, _Men’s Health_ carved its own path, pioneering a new era in men’s health and well-being.

This evolution reflects a broader shift in societal expectations. While the “lad” archetype continues to hold a place in our cultural memory,the focus on men’s mental and physical health has gained increasing importance. _Men’s Health_’s success embodies this change, demonstrating a desire for a more holistic approach to masculinity.

Men’s Health UK: From Lad Culture to modern Masculinity

Remember the 90s? A time of baggy jeans, grunge music, and lads clinging to the ideal of effortless coolness. Men’s Health UK, launched in 1994, seemed to tap into this era, offering a peculiar blend of fitness advice and the cheeky swagger we associate with “lad culture.” As one observer recalled, “It felt like it had come from another solar system.” the magazine seemed to straddle a unique space, sharing “writing that wouldn’t have looked out of place in FHM, but simultaneously occurring it shared plenty of advice for men who wanted to look and – more importantly – feel better.”

This fusion aimed to bring together the rakish charm of British lad culture with the burgeoning self-improvement movement that had taken root state-side with Men’s Health US. Though, even then, the magazine’s portrayal of masculinity retained a competitive edge, emphasizing physical prowess and a “strongman” image.

Fast forward to today,and the landscape of masculinity has undergone a seismic shift. Men are increasingly open about their mental health, and fitness has become a mainstream concern rather than just a niche pursuit. This evolution is reflected in a multitude of trends: “Today, latest figures show that 65 per cent of men in the UK are physically active, the Movember movement has over 6 million global supporters, there are nearly 5,000 gyms in the UK and 85 per cent pubs offer at least one alcohol-free beer,” observes the magazine’s editor.

This new generation of men has a diverse range of role models, paving the way for a more inclusive and compassionate understanding of masculinity. Figures like Joe Wicks, the “Body Coach,” and Dr. Alex George, a former Love Island contestant who advocates for mental health awareness, are breaking down outdated stereotypes and offering a fresh perspective on what it means to be a man in the 21st century.

But the allure of the 90s “lad” persists, a nostalgic yearning for a simpler time when things seemed less complex. “Despite all this change, that retro man still winks at us, tempting us with an uncomplicated take on life, one where our emotional needs are replaced with laughs and beer,” the editor acknowledges.

However, a nuanced understanding is crucial: “To yearn for the apparent simplicity of that period is entirely understandable, but trust someone who was there when we built the ’90s lad – don’t, whatever you do, take him too seriously.”

What role can Men’s Health UK play in dismantling harmful stereotypes of masculinity and promoting healthier expressions of manhood?

The Evolution of Masculinity: A Conversation with Jamie Finn, Editor of Men’s Health UK

Jamie Finn, Editor of Men’s Health UK, sheds light on the magazine’s journey from its early days amidst the “lad culture” explosion to its modern-day focus on holistic well-being.

How did Men’s Health UK navigate the cultural landscape of the 1990s, a time dominated by “lad culture”?

It was certainly a unique challenge. Remember, this was the era of *Loaded* and *FHM*, all about those stereotypical notions of masculinity. But even back then, there was a growing sense that men were looking for more than just the latest lads’ mag banter. Men’s health came with a message of self-improvement, of becoming the best version of yourself, physically and mentally. It felt like a breath of fresh air, quite different from the prevailing trends.

How has the magazine’s approach evolved over the years, reflecting the changing face of masculinity?

We’ve definitely shifted away from that purely physical, almost “hyper-masculine” emphasis.Today, men are more open about thier mental health, about the importance of stress management, and about overall well-being. That’s a reflection of a broader societal shift, and we’ve had to adapt.Now, we focus on giving men advice on everything from nutrition and fitness to mindfulness and emotional intelligence. It’s about a holistic approach to health, acknowledging all aspects of a man’s life.

What role have figures like Joe wicks and Dr. Alex George played in shaping this evolving image of masculinity?

They’re fantastic examples of modern role models. They are breaking down stereotypes and showing men that it’s okay to talk about their feelings, to prioritize their health, and to be vulnerable. Joe Wicks,with his fitness enthusiasm,and Dr. Alex George, championing mental health awareness, show that being a man doesn’t meen being stoic or shutting down emotions.

What do you see as the biggest challenges facing men today?

I think the biggest challenge is pressure. Pressure to succeed,pressure to be “the man”,pressure to live up to unrealistic expectations. It’s no wonder so many men struggle with anxiety or depression. We need to create a culture where it’s okay to acknowledge those feelings and seek help if needed. It’s about building resilience, finding balance, and ultimately living a life that is true to oneself, not to some outdated ideal.