Kids today just don't get it

For a while now, I have noticed an unsettling trend among groups of teens in Ireland. Indeed I would have to be blind not to notice it in all its shiny, shouty, satirical brilliance. I am speaking of cours, about the Nineties. In case you hadn’t heard, they’re making a comeback.

The evidence speaks for itself: Everywhere I turn I see girls in baggy plaid shirts, boys in snap back hats and shoe shop windows crowded with platforms and Doc Martens. The favoured look of the youth of today is most certainly Bindis, Blue eye shadow, braided hair and bare midriffs.

This renaissance doesn’t stop at clothing however; the increasing tendency of a large number of DJs to play a small selection of 90s hits (TLC’s “No Scrubz” and anything by Biggie smalls are both staples) is impossible to ignore. As are the staggering number of club nights with names like “Jamz” and posters featuring the face of will smith which are popping up across the country.


This Nineties revival has a number of disturbing implications, for me at least. The first of these being that I am evidently now old enough that the culture and fashion of my generation has circled so far around the spectrum of cool that it has now come back in vogue.

I’ve often been forced to hold back a snigger as my mother, upon seeing a pair of brogues or some hideous jumper, wistfully proclaimed: “We used to wear this kind of stuff when I was a girl” with a nostalgic glint in her eye. Well, I’m not laughing anymore.

Another reason the nineties coming back into fashion is so upsetting to me is that the things that the13-year-olds of today are doing, saying and wearing ironically are actually part of cherished memories from my childhood.

They just don't get it

The worst part is (aside from the fact that scrunchies are once again socially acceptable), is that these gleefully ironic kids simply don’t get it. They can’t. This is an entire generation whose childhoods have been completely devoid of Pinky and the Brain, Goosebumps books, and those woefully uncomfortable but mesmerizingly attractive jelly shoes.

I understand that I’m not unique in experiencing these types of feelings. This is a burden every generation must bear. I am not the first person to have their childhood memories commandeered by a new generation who simply cannot understand their importance.

This fact doesn’t stop me from feeling old and slightly sad. Something which does, however, is the knowledge that the only “culture” these poor, deprived youths had to grow up with was Dubstep, Justin Bieber and twilight. No wonder they’re stealing our style.