Algorithmic Nostalgia
Gwen Stefani at the 1998 MTV Video Movie Awards, Brenda Chase/Getty Images
I saw a comment criticizing the idea of filtering nostalgic periods into Instagram reels to give a false impression of what a particular year was like. Gen Z is constantly reimagining the late 20th century and early Y2K era so much that they curate music playlists and fashion lookbooks, reinterpreting the pop culture of yesteryear to adopt a new internet persona. There's an increased commodification of past cultural landscapes that reinterpret time. It’s an uptick in creators tapping into Western media’s obsession with nostalgia through film, television, fashion, and music niches, neglecting today's current time. It asks what our cultural reality or zeitgeist would be in the present. What will we as a society remember of time post-pandemic? How will we, as a growing generation, memorialize today's current culture? A fascinating contradiction in the digital era is that the closer we get to the future, the stronger our longing for the past becomes. Even though we live in a time of technological advancements, why do we find solace in a time before social media dominated every part of our lives? In times of economic hardship, political warfare, internet divisiveness, and doomscrolling, the younger generation often finds comfort in nostalgic content. For example, Gen Z is embracing the revival of indie sleaze, the “old money” minimalist style of vintage J.Crew and Ralph Lauren, UK rave culture, and Y2K trends from the late-’90s and 2000s. Rather than reminiscing about their lives in the present moment and creating a new generational zeitgeist, they pretend to be part of a time free from the overwhelming TikTok trends and YouTube commentary channels.
The original cast of Skins. Photograph: Channel 4
One idea that plagues the thought of this non-threatening trend is that social media complicates the idea of what nostalgia is. Gen Z creators are trying to relive cultural periods they were not alive or too young to remember. Nostalgia typically triggers memories from one's coming-of-age years when one's personality was taking shape. However, Gen Z, mostly under 25 as of 2023, is not yet at a place in life to seek the past as they’re still young. The microwavable pace of algorithmic trends on social media makes it challenging to choose your interests and remember iconic cultural moments authentically. Everything is bombarding us every moment of the day, and it’s hard to keep up. Take the indie sleaze trend (reference @indiesleaze), a hedonistic lifestyle aesthetic from the late 2000s and early 2010s that draws inspiration from the sleazy club and rave culture of the 1980s to ‘90s, embracing DIY fashion consumerism. This style embodies Gen Z's desire to free themselves from social media’s attractiveness parameters, high-earning financial expectations, and celebrity wealth flaunting. Shows like Skins (2007-2013) and Girls (2012-2016) capture a millennial time of confusion centered around teenagehood and early adulthood that younger people almost wish their lives were like due to its nihilism and financially inept characters. I’m 24, born in 1999, and vaguely remember the 2000s. I love and hate this content on social media as it's both playful and inauthentically filtered, as if I’m enjoying something that is a distant reality, never to happen again. What’s the point of delusionally reliving an experience that you'll never authentically live in the present moment?
