I’ve lost count of how many 80s-themed events my young children have attended. Dropping them at the most recent neon-fringed disco, a few parents noted how weird it was that our children seem obsessed with an era they can barely imagine. When I was seven in 1984, there was no comparable hunger for dressing up as Glenn Miller and going to 40s jazz parties. Which, on reflection, seems a shame.
It’s undeniable that these kids are infected with contact nostalgia, growing up in the shadow of their parents’ memories. But it’s also clear that, these kids aside, most of those susceptible to the 80s bug are far too young to remember it. The adult fans of shows such as Stranger Things or the never-ending stream of rebooted and recycled properties from Transformers to Masters of the Universe might be longing for a pre-cellular time before technology dominated our lives, but it’s more likely they’re longing for a time when pop culture mattered.
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