lately i’ve been so stressed out about how our generation’s current culture doesn’t really have a “thing,” how we value not only stuff that reminds us of our childhood, but stuff from cultures that we’ve never experienced firsthand and can never experience in that way - instagram and degraded film, language like “rad,” pinup, grunge, high-waisted shorts, cat-eye liner. for me it appears most in fashion, but i also know how much my peers value “old books” and “old films.” i’m kind of thinking now about how it isn’t really a phenomenon, but it tells us more about us than i can immediately recognize.
so maybe our “thing,” is anachronism, or a ghost of a nostalgia that never belonged to us, and maybe the reason for that is that there’s a dissatisfaction. but i don’t know where the line is drawn and what makes that dissatisfaction so intense that we refuse to occupy our own present and come up with new things.
i’ve been really anxious about this for a while, because i’ve been relating my experience of looking through my parents faded photos to my possible future experience of showing my kids my own photos (probably on some variation of a tablet), but ones that are faded in the same way that my parents’ were, this time purposefully. but here i have to explain to my kids that “back then, we tried everything we could to reach back into a time where there was meaning.” but then maybe i’ll also say, “you see here, i’m wearing my hair like brigitte bardot and my makeup like anna karina and i’m wearing a flannel and some acid wash leggings, but i’m also holding an iphone, and i’m at a justice show.”