Yearning for the unknown: how can you want something you never knew
How can you want something you’ve never even known, something you never had? It’s a curious phenomenon sweeping the minds of late teens and young adults. Typically, nostalgia is tied to specific past memories or lived experiences. But for many in Gen Z, the desire is directed toward eras they never experienced. They don’t have personal memories to anchor this longing; instead, they rely on stories, images, and cultural depictions encountered through technology. In a sense, the grass seemed greener before it was even real.
Growing up alongside technology has created a tension between generations. The Human Flourishing Lab conducted a study showing that 60% of Gen Z wishes they could experience life before everyone was “plugged in,” indicating a longing for a less digitally saturated world. Gen Z is, in many ways, the last generation to have a childhood fully immersed in technology.
Being raised in a digital environment allows Gen Z to recognize both the advantages and drawbacks of technology. Yet older generations idolize a world without it—the freedom, spontaneity, and natural highs that came from being fully present in the moment. This idolization, paired with the impossibility of truly experiencing that past, deepens the desire to reclaim it. It’s the classic paradox: when you can’t have something, the urge only grows stronger.
Rather than simply admiring the past, Gen Z is actively remixing it. Retro trends are making a comeback: scrunchies, mom shorts, thrifted clothing labeled “MOM’S OLD CLOTHES,” record stores, Mary Jane flats, polka dots, skinny-lens glasses, capris. Kathryn Busby, 22, notes that trends like the “VSCO Girl” of 2018–2020 exemplify this revival. What was once considered outdated has been reimagined as vintage, tangible, and desirable.
Some argue this fascination reflects a subtle critique of modern life: a desire to disconnect from social media’s relentless pace and embrace authenticity in a hyper-mediated world. “When you’ve grown up online,” Ortiz notes, “anything tangible, tactile, or analog can feel revolutionary—even if it’s decades old.”
Whether it’s the crackle of a vinyl record, the snap of overalls, or the playful glow of a Tamagotchi, Gen Z’s nostalgia raises questions about identity, memory, and cultural longing. They may not have lived these eras, but they’re making them their own—one retro TikTok at a time.
