During my Y2K adolescence, flipping your flip phone shut was a rite of passage. The Paris Hilton-coded pink phone was a status symbol in any high school’s social hierarchy. And if you didn’t own one, you were so 2000 and late. Soon enough came Blackberry’s BBM, and later, the Androids and Apples of the world ushered in the new age of social media. These devices were birthed into the zeitgeist at a time way before trendy social media vernaculars ever existed. We were for sure in our flip phone era back then; we just didn’t have a phrase for it yet. Now, of course, we’re all chronically online, with perceptions of ourselves clouded by pixelated versions of what it means to be ‘cool.’ Each of us the girl that cried internet brain rot. Ironically, being ‘cool’ in 2024 means cashing in on a little dose of that now-covetable ‘90s culture, and brushing the dust off our trusted flip phones once again. The rebirth of analogue, it seems, was only a matter of time.
Whilst you’ve been busy trying to keep up with your FYP, the internet it-girls are already two steps ahead (or two decades behind, I should say), breathing new life into dated technology and leaning into the nostalgia of a pre-internet era. Ironically, of course, this is all happening on social media. Nostalgia is indeed cyclical, and although the Y2K renaissance has been cementing its influence on fashion for some time now, the internet’s obsession with analogue technology represents a far greater cultural shift.
You like my phone? Thanks, it’s vintage…
Nokia recently rebooted its iconic 3210 brick phone, a whopping 25 years since its prime, with a few modernised updates like Bluetooth, 4G connectivity, and a 2.4-inch screen. “Let’s throwback to Y2K”, they said, “when conversations mattered more than likes and shares. A legendary phone returns [with a] redesign for modern times. And of course, it’s got Snake”. The return of the Nokia 3210 follows on the heels of the Samsung Galaxy Z Flip4’s successful resurgence of the folding phone. Since, flip phones of our pre-teen years have found their way back as a must-have accessory, with #FlipPhone growing to over 200 million views on TikTok. Digital cameras, too, now govern aesthetic photo dumps on Instagram, meaning your plain-old iPhone snaps simply don’t cut it anymore. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.
If you’re looking to get your hands on such devices in the UAE, it seems you’re going to have to get in line. Kamal and Frank, founders of Dubai-based store, Analog The Room, are at the centre of the widespread demand of analogue tech in the region. “Sales have been skyrocketing”, says Kamal, aptly leaning over an almost-empty cabinet of Blackberries, flip phones and digital cameras. “It’s all young people. Even music – vinyl has been popular forever, but now the rate is going up like crazy. Cassettes, CD players and even Walkman, too. We’re sold out of them, actually”. Luminate’s 2023 Music Sales Report found that Taylor Swift’s biggest source of revenue from her music was through vinyl sales, despite over half her fans being under 40 years old. Last year, Urban Outfitters sold out stock of refurbished iPod Minis. And the internet’s ASMR obsession has fostered a community of mechanical keyboard-loving Gen Z’ers. Yes, really.
@felinewom4n bc literally why not?!🎀 its so cute, im definitely going to decorate it soon <3
@jackielabonita Rating ALL of my digital cameras #digitalcamera #digitalcamerahack #digicam #nikoncoolpix #nikoncoolpixs6900 ♬ original sound – Ig: @jackielabonita
The aesthetic value of vintage tech, however, isn’t an entirely new phenomenon. Perhaps what we’re seeing is a soft rejection of our over-consumption of digital. The allure seemingly resonates with a desire for tangible, sensory experiences that contrast the sterile touchscreens of modern devices. Just ask Ruba Tursun, a Saudi Gen Z content creator who’s embracing analogue photography to create aesthetic content for her 151k followers: “I appreciate how technology has made it easier to save memories and document our lives. However, it can be a bit overwhelming. There’s something special about tangible memories”.
The analogue nostalgia pipeline
I fit into a small demographic of twenty-somethings who came of age alongside social media. In childhood, MSN and Bebo were merely optional pastimes, where you actually had the ability to ‘sign off’ and tell your friends that you’ll “be back later”. In my pre-teens, the emergence of Facebook was synonymous with my introduction into high school. Suddenly, status and likability became an on-and-offline reality. And just when I thought I’d figured life out as a teenager, Instagram was born to blur the lines between the real and the filtered. By the time I left for university, the world had descended into a digital age beyond repair, leaving behind only minuscule traces of our collective pre-internet brain.
“Recent surveys indicate a concerning trend among young people in the GCC”, says Devika Singh-Mankani, a psychologist at Fortes Education and UAE mental health practitioner at Chearful. “A significant portion of the youth reports feelings of anxiety and disconnectedness, exacerbated by high engagement with digital media and societal pressures”. Nostalgia is a timeless feeling, though it certainly has its collective spikes. During the pandemic, we found ourselves squarely in the crosshairs of digital connectivity’s double-edged sword. Doomscrolling has become the norm, and our concern for global issues like climate change makes us primed to hyper-fixate on present negativity, whilst glossing over the distant past. Nostalgia, if anything, softens an era’s harsh edges. Suddenly, my obsession with Barbiecore, cottagecore and soft girl aesthetics make a whole lot more sense.
The future is unknown, unsettling; a reality that drives the attitudes of our generation (‘quiet quitting’ and ‘soft saving’ being prime examples). The future doesn’t have any tangible artefacts – no vinyl records, no film cameras. Most of us would rather experience something familiar than take a chance on the unknown. This phenomenon, known as “analogue nostalgia”, involves a yearning for the tangibility and simplicity of earlier decades. “The tactile nature of analogue technology offers a sense of authenticity and uniqueness in a world often dominated by digital uniformity,” says Devika.
This movement toward analogue is not a rejection of technology but a reclamation of agency over how we interact with it. For content creators like Ruba Tursun, it’s about finding balance, setting boundaries, and creating a space where we can engage with the world—and each other—in a more meaningful way; “Using analogue tech helps me slow down and immerse myself in the moment, focusing more on the creative process rather than the digital rush,” she says.
Pics or it didn’t happen
Idealising the far-off past, whilst very much enjoying the modern comforts of the present, has become a curious cultural pattern. “Gen Z wants the best of both worlds,” says Kamal, in reflection of Analog The Room’s rising popularity amongst young people. “They want the aesthetics of this old thing, but they also want the convenience of this new life. But the industry is adapting. For example, there’s now a new type of Walkman that’s digitized. The analogue industry is able to find a way to connect to Gen Z”.
And that is, perhaps, the irony in all of this. The retro revival has us all nostalgic for the pre-internet era, but could we actually survive back there? Disconnecting is indeed the new cool, but only if we’re able to post about it first.
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