It’s been 30 years since Michael Lucid, then a senior at Crossroads School in Santa Monica, filmed a group of his 13-year-old schoolmates known as the “dirty girls” on VHS. The grainy footage, which captures a group of friends “notorious for their crass behaviour and allegedly bad hygiene,” is a time capsule of 1990s riot grrrl culture, the underground feminist movement rooted in punk rock, DIY zines and feminist activism. 

Filmed in 1996, the footage was released in 2000 as an 18-minute documentary and later went viral in 2013 when Lucid uploaded it to YouTube, where it now has 5.7 million views and over 19,000 comments. Shot halfway through the decade that saw the birth of Photoshop, the dirty girls’ rebellion is a rejection of plastic surgery, body shaming and the monetisation of physical insecurities under capitalism. They rail against the typical 90s beauty standard of extreme thinness and supermodel minimalism epitomised by figures like Kate Moss and Carolyn Bessette Kennedy.  “A real dirty girl,” they explain, “is someone who doesn’t care what’s, like, the ‘in’ style for people and stuff. They’ll just go about what they really feel.” 

At the time, their fellow students at Crossroads (a private school known for celebrity alumni including Gwyneth Paltrow, Kate Hudson and Liv Tyler) mocked and sneered at them. “It’s just unacceptable. They look like trash, they’re wearing garbage,” says one classmate. “I just don’t understand why that’s something they strive for. You’re filthy; you’re filthy!” But the documentary resonated with a large audience when it hit the internet and it has remained influential ever since. Vice created a Dirty Girls-inspired photoshoot, clips spread through Tumblr like wildfire (“that’s the girl who hasn’t taken a shower since Kurt Cobain died!” was a particularly popular one), and last year excerpts were featured in the Barbican’s Dirty Looks: Desire and Decay in Fashion

Amber Willat – the de facto dirty girls ringleader, along with her sister Harper, who features heavily in the documentary – was initially shocked at how many people felt an affinity with the film. She credits its enduring relevance to the authenticity of both its portrayal and dissemination. “Riot grrrls didn’t want to be interviewed by the media. People were like, ‘don’t you want to get the message out?’ The message will get out by word of mouth. Those that need to hear it will find it.”

And find it they have. 25-year-old Tilda discovered the documentary this year and was inspired by its rejection of perfection. “I’m so violently opposed to the clean girl aesthetic. It’s so artificial. It was really inspiring to see they were so comfortable with being labelled gross. I would love to channel a bit more of that.” On her first watch six years ago, 28-year-old Eleri also resonated with Dirty Girls because of the non-normative beauty standards embodied by its subjects. Her preference for a lived-in look has survived the clean girl era. “I hate it. I think it’s just boring and too complicated. I’ve got a busy life; I want to go out. I don’t want to do a 12-step skincare routine.” 

Even those who encountered the film in the early 2010s still consider it just as relevant today. 36-year-old Whitney remembers being a part of a dirty girl community in 2013, when the documentary was first uploaded to YouTube. She references her friend Maya Fuhr’s photo series Garbage Girls, which depicted the rubbish-laden bedrooms of unbothered women. She still resonates with the film, which she feels represents a central question she has navigated her entire life: “What’s feminist rebellion, what’s white privilege and how do I present myself in a way that articulates my values and is true to myself?”

It’s not surprising that the message of Dirty Girls has found such lasting power. 30 years on, the girls’ rejection of trends and determination to appear purposefully unappealing feels more vital than ever. In an age of clean girls, trad wives, slicked-back buns and ‘no-make-up make-up’ intended to give the impression of natural perfection, being dirty is a direct reaction and rebellion to mainstream body image pressures. If the dirty girls were 13-year-olds today, many of their classmates would have already been using multi-step routines for years. ‘Sephora kids’ spend an average of £124 on the products which make up these routines, despite research claiming they offer little to no benefit.

In reaction to this, we’ve begun to see dirt making appearances in high fashion circles, on the runway and in beauty trends. See – Balenciaga’s SS23 peat bog runway, Elena Velez’s SS24 mud pit and the greasy hair of Miu Miu’s SS24. For SS26, models at Dilara Findikoglu and Di Petsa walked with mud-smeared faces and chests, while at Lueder, models dragged clumps of soil across a dining table in upturned, spiked shoes. Recent beauty releases from Blend Bunny and Huda Beauty resemble mould spores and petri dishes, while grotesque manicures and fragrances that smell like the end of the world, blood and gasoline, have brought dirt and grossness into the worlds of nail art and perfumery.

The idea that a dirty, messy or unkempt image is evidence of a more intensely lived life has become a trend in itself, particularly with Charli xcx’s fusion of Y2K club culture and indie sleaze into the Brat era’s “I slept in my make-up” look. Many female musicians, among them Kim Petras and Sophia Isella, have adopted even grottier grunge-adjacent visuals. But 30 years’ on from the riot grrrls of the 90s, there is an awareness that even this seemingly transgressive aesthetic is now an attempt to sell an image – one that is perhaps just as curated as the clean girls hawking perfection and wellness. 

“Now most famous people are very curated,” says 26-year-old Comet, who discovered Dirty Girls in high school. A musician, she brings part of the “weird, counter-cultural person I was back then” into her musical persona today. She finds the broader industry is doing the opposite. “Nothing is genuine. When Charli xcx says ‘I’m dirty, I’m a party girl’, there’s something she’s aiming to get. The dirty girls weren’t getting anything out of it.” Tilda agrees: “It’s still falling into the same trap of aestheticising yourself in some way. They would probably still be very nervous of being perceived as gross.”

With its fierce rejection of trends, challenge to social expectations, and refusal to perform femininity, Dirty Girls continues to inspire generations of outcasts and rebels. It offers an alternative beauty standard to today’s carefully curated social media landscape, and a strong message of maintaining scepticism towards mainstream culture. “I have a clear awareness of marketing. It’s all there to control the masses,” says Willat.

Now in her 40s and living in New Mexico, she is at her most content when connecting with her horses and the natural world around her. She tries to instill the same critical thinking into her daughter. “I’m definitely wary for the next generation. Whenever we watch TV with my daughter, I’m just like, ‘Have fun, enjoy it. But remember they’re telling you what to like and how to look.’” It’s a mindset and message she’s stuck with for three decades now. As she said at the age of 13: “I can be whoever I want to be. I don’t have to dress for anyone.”