Craving the 90s Life

Give me analogue vibes

Lately I find myself craving the 90s life. Well, I was a teenager in the 90s so, you know, the acne and crippling self doubt can stay there, but I guess I am yearning for simpler, more analogue times.

I did an Instagram post this week about people using their phones in group fitness classes (my biggest pet peeve as an instructor). I feel none of us are as concerned as we should be about our phone addictions. We’ve all seen it, gradually over time, the way these addictions have crept into every part of our lives. Couples at restaurants both scrolling rather than talking, babies glued to screens while being pushed in a stroller, cinemas, theatres, libraries - there is no space anymore, where we can be free of digital distractions.

We don’t seem to have really definitively decided, socially, culturally, what the rules, manners and etiquette are surrounding these devices. Not that I think anyone would abide by them anyway as hyper-individualism runs rampant now (in part due to our phones and algorithms and everything being catered to us every second of our lives on our devices so our brains malfunction in the real world when things aren’t *deep breathe*…but I digress).

I vowed at the start of the year that I wanted to be less online and more IRL in 2026. I’ve made strides in reducing my screen time. I’m reading way more (actual physical books!), which means I stash my phone away and don’t look at it. (Currently reading my 12th book of the year so far - there’ve been more years than I care to mention where I’ve read less than that over the course of the entire year).

But I guess what I miss about the 90s is the spontaneity of life. And perhaps this is just more to do with adulthood than nostalgia or a decade per se, but now it seems to meet up with anyone, you have to plan things 6 weeks in advance. I miss the pop by, the ‘I was just in the neighbourhood’, the random ‘what are you up to right now? Wanna do something?’ phone call. Can we bring that back?!

What our phones have done is put the entire world right there in our screens 24/7. We forget that it’s actually right there, in real life, just outside. With Spring finally springing, I am determined to break out of my digital prison. I shall be making the effort to go for a spontaneous stroll, to frollick, to call people to see if they want to come round for a cuppa. I want a real life, not a digital one.

We survived as a species without cell phones for thousands of years. I think we’ll be OK if we don’t check that notification at the dinner table or mindlessly scroll rather than being alone with our own thoughts. And I dare say, I believe our continued survival actually depends on it.