Ah, the 1990s, a magical decade where our biggest concerns revolved around whether to watch *Friends* or *Seinfeld* in a haze of secondhand smoke from our parents’ menthols. It was a time when the most sophisticated form of communication we had was passing notes in class while the latest *Boyz II Men* cassette tape droned on in our Walkmans. We survived on a diet of Dunkaroos and fruit roll-ups, and somehow, miraculously, no one was suffering from Type 2 diabetes (though our taste in music might have contributed).
Remember when we thought we were living in the future just because we had a dial-up modem? Oh, the thrill of hearing that beloved screeching sound as we connected to the World Wide Web. It was like standing next to a jet engine while waiting for a message from your crush on AOL Instant Messenger. And with those glorious 56K speeds, it felt like an eternity to download a single image of a poorly pixelated GIF. Emoji? Pffft, back then, the closest thing we had was an awkward facial expression conveyed through Bone Thugs-N-Harmony lyrics.
We dressed like we were sponsored by every major brand of 90s athletic wear, including the iconic, oversized Starter jackets—we were, after all, modern-day gladiators in our local mall, ready to battle it out at the nearest arcade. The smell of Axe body spray mixed with a hint of cheap cologne was almost as intoxicating as a Friday night high score on *Street Fighter II*. Meanwhile, our parents indulged in a flurry of VHS tapes, as if they were preparing for an upcoming apocalypse while they proudly boasted about their latest blockbuster haul featuring *Titanic* and *The Matrix*.
And let’s not forget the haunting specter of “Be Kind, Rewind,” a phrase that still echoes in our minds as we trudge through life, plagued by buttons that are constantly ON SALE – which may or may not be a metaphor for our existence at this point. Is it too late for a nostalgic comeback tour? Can we wear our flannel shirts, platform sneakers, and butterfly clips while sipping Crystal Pepsi and binging on *The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air* reruns? If the answer is yes, count me in, because at this point, reclaiming the 90s feels like our only way to dodge the crushing realities of adulthood (not that we’ve done such a great job at that, either).
So here’s to us—Gen X, the undisputed champions of cynicism, fond memories, and hairstyles that probably should have come with a user manual. May we continue to walk that fine line between being hopelessly out of touch and zealously nostalgic, all while attempting to convince today’s youth that yes, it was WAY cooler in our day (and yes, I can totally still rap the entire *Ice Ice Baby* but you didn’t hear it from me).