The 90’s brought us mini cropped band tees, cutesy Gucci shoulder-strap bags, and Bikkemberg lace-up boots. After a momentary slumber, these fashioning’s have returned to London, though this time with an accumulation of scuff marks and frays, marking the presence of wearers from their past. Once a ubiquitous staple, vintage items hold a newfound status as cherished collectibles—unique, original, and one-of-a-kind in today's fashion climate.
Consumer habits of younger generations, driven by a desire to ‘fit-in’ with the latest trend fuelled a steady stream of fast-fashion purchasing over the last couple decades, yet a behavioural shift is highlighting a new perspective on a young person’s values. The meaning of ownership has taken on a more layered and holistic significance; objects with heritage preserve history, craftsmanship, and design, and are recognised for their symbolic value beyond their material condition.
With the rise of Vinted and Depop for second-hand sales, independently run social media accounts selling reclaimed items through Instagram are gaining traction. Profiles such as @copmeifyoucan and @westarchive emphasise the allure of a one-of-a-kind piece, thoughtfully providing a platform that highlights the context and era of their creation. Berlin based @copmeifyoucan, run by Leon Teke, a Jean Paul Gaultier 90’s fanatic and Gen-Z himself, celebrates the rich historical connotations of each item within his archive. Celebs, influencers, and in-the-know shoppers are hungry to claim their unique ‘piece’, carefully curated and hand-picked by a personalised distributor.
Vintage items hold their influence not only in fashion but also in preserved furniture, home décor, and lifestyle pieces such as digital cameras, Walkman’s, or cars. Objects that tell a story of the past are perceived for their characteristics that go beyond pure aesthetic. Their tactility and functionality evoke a rougher and less polished finish, where scratchy sounds and blurred images offer a more diffused impression of the surrounding world. While it might seem that brands could struggle to meet the demand for reused items, many are adapting by embracing these newfound values of ownership with a similar sensibility.
IKEA recently brought back their furniture designs from the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s, a stylistic homage to their designers from their past. With the material value being current, they seek to preserve the value of the brand’s legacy, pulling inspiration from previous decades, “reimagining the pieces to feel fresh and new”. Meanwhile the new “it bag” in recent months comes from Balenciaga’s archives from over two decades ago, where a revival campaign featured their brand ambassador, Kim Kardashian.
While Gen-Z has significantly contributed to the resurgence of 90’s culture, what is surprising is that most were born well after the era they’re expressing nostalgia for. As the internet serves as a portal into the past, it offers glimpses of a world different from the digitally saturated reality of today. This longing is perhaps an antidote to the pace of modern life, with our daily consumption habits being heavily informed by algorithms - our ability to gain agency and control over our consumption choices is continuously being diffused.
Vinyl records, for example, exemplify a different mode of engagement. The deliberate act of selecting an album, placing it on a turntable, and listening to songs in their prescribed order (and on repeat!) offers a far more tangible experience compared to hitting "shuffle" on Spotify. By slowing down and investing time in rediscovering analogue, many are attempting to carve out a space of intentionality.
This longing ties into a greater narrative about societal shifts in progress and optimism. Opinion polls in the 60’s revealed that there was a widespread belief in progress, where respondents believed that their children would live richer, fuller lives than they had - a confidence informed by the rise of computers, health technologies, as well as the space race. Emerging from the struggles of the post-war period, modernity promised an escape from poverty and hardship, as economic growth and advancements in quality of life underscored the march of progress.
Fast forward to today, and the polls shift, revealing a growing pessimism - many believe the next generation will face more challenges and enjoy fewer opportunities than their predecessors. Economic growth has slowed, and social media advancements are leading to greater vats of depression, misinformation, and now as Oxford word of the year puts it, ‘brain rot’. For Gen-Z, who have grown up amidst economic and political uncertainty, climate crises, and rapid technological change, this loss of optimism may partly explain their nostalgic turn, only possible given their easily available tech-time-portal. The past becomes a reminder of a time when progress felt possible, filled with a greater sense of hope.
Amidst the global anxieties that prevail us today, finding ways to be the curators of our own lives through small acts can help restore a sense of value through control. Whether it be flipping through records, exploring vintage clothing, or snapping low-res grainy pictures, Gen-Z’s nostalgia isn’t merely a retreat into the past - it’s a quest to regain a sense of agency and meaning in an increasingly hyper-pixelated world.
Interested in an exploration of how historical nostalgia serves Gen Z psychologically? We have a separate report on just that. We collaborated with the Human Flourishing Lab at the Archbridge Institute to explore how historical nostalgia helps young people shape their identities, spark creativity, and tackle modern challenges by drawing from the past. Dive into this thought-provoking analysis of a phenomenon shaping the cultural and psychological dynamics of today’s youth.