There’s been a trend, which will be labeled as the 90s trend, circulating among institutions across the world. My feed has been showing mostly Canadian universities participating in it. While I think that it’s cute, it also strikes a nerve because it represents a core pilar of why life in 2026 feels so suffocating for young adults.
The 90s trend begins by asking “hey [institution] what were you like in the ‘90s” and playing a montage of photos from the 90’s to the chorus of “Iris” by The Goo Goo Dolls. Now, this is actually a sweet trend, and I think it is very heartwarming to see alumni reminisce on the good old days.
Yet, this 90s trend is also frustrating and mocks the students of 2026. And yes, this frustration does come from a place of having less than past students.
Nostalgia comes from a place of yearning, and the 90s trend brings no less yearning than any other. After all, “Iris” is arguably the most yearn-able mainstream song to have ever existed. But what are we yearning for, and more importantly, why do I, someone who wasn’t even alive in the ‘90s, also yearn for the ‘90s?
The ‘90s trend represents two different things for two different generations. For those who lived it, it’s being able to reminisce. For those who did not, it’s an odd sort of nostalgic feeling that’s not for the actual material world of the 90s, but instead the promise of that time.
In 2026, there’s this sense of perpetual burnout, of always needing to have everything figured out and to be constantly on the ball with academics, work and your own identity. A subtle fear of imprisonment haunts the youth, and its origins lie in the promise of the ‘90s versus the 2020s.
I’ll be writing about an inference of what the ‘90s were like in the West, based on conversations I’ve had with those who lived through it.
During the ‘90s, young adults were largely allowed to explore their lives and take more risks in developing who they were. ‘90s adults benefited from the affordability of property, rent and all other commodities.
There was a noticeable promise of a hopeful future. Across the Western World, major social progress was made in establishing rights for various groups, and society appeared to be moving towards liberation and equality.
In many ways, there was less pressure on the youth of the past. The past is easy to romanticize, and society is love-struck by it.
Everywhere you look, you can find nostalgic thinking. The desire to acquire a flip phone, buy physical media, use film or polaroid cameras and wear ‘90s style clothing.
Many of the reasons we look back with nostalgia are because of our current promise of the future. As a generation, we are facing tech development hellbent on technology that’s predicted to bring about mass unemployment, a deeply immoral and corrupt ruling class, climate disasters, backsliding democracy and an increasing affordability crisis.
Additionally, young adults today have to work harder, take on more debt and face a worse job market than their predecessors.
There’s also a lot of hypocrisy in Brock doing this nostalgia trend right after laying off numerous frontline staff, directly worsening students’ experience at the institution. But hey, at least the ‘90s were good.
We are promised an incredibly bleak future, so it’s no wonder that we romanticize the past in the way we do. I’ve yet to see a piece of media that presents an optimistic future where humans and technology operate symbiotically.
Nostalgia is nice, but young adults shouldn’t be feeling nostalgic for a time they never lived. As a society we need to give the youth a new promise: one that’s hopeful.


