So I’ve never really had any old school people in my life saying those clichéd things like “Back in my day….” All my grandparents are dead and my parents have kind of seamlessly adapted to the modern world. They’re like 60 year-old emoji using, chia eating, small bar frequenting hipsters. My mum is totally on trend with television; she was into shows like Luther and Deadwood before I’d even heard of them and my Dad gets lost in more Youtube blackholes than my internet addicted boyfriend.
It got me thinking when I’m a great old bitty, sporting an unkempt lavender beehive and bingo wings; what parts of my past will I be prattling on about? What things hit me in the nostalgia feels?
VHS. Ah video nights. I remember going to Blockbuster or Video Ezy with my sisters/friends and getting 5 Weekly’s for $10. Shout out to my sister Ang who would shamelessly flirt with the Blockbuster guy to clear out late fees. New Releases, the pièce de résistance were reserved for special occasions and birthdays only. You had to carefully curate your choices, plea your case for your chosen picture, and always pick a horror film if you were hoping for some adolescent fondling under the blankets with your high school flame. I remember excitedly waiting for the new titles to come out, and hoping when we made the trip to the shop there was a copy left for rent. The whole experience felt somewhat ritualistic; putting in the tape, fast forwarding through that fucking piracy add from the late 90’s HAVE YOU GOT WHAT YOU PAID FOR PHONE, watching the trailers for films soon to be released, then enjoying the highly anticipated feature. Afterwards you took the time to rewind, for the greater good (and to avoid any fees). I loved the physical nature of VHS, knowing that this tape had been taken into different homes, privy to or part of many different moments in human history.
I used to get the same level of excitement before going on international flights thinking about the movies I’d get to watch which hadn’t been released yet in Australia. Torrenting has quashed this tantalising; you can get any title in next to no time and it’s so much less climactic.
Cassettes. I really liked playing mix-tapes on my brick-like walkman. You had to be real patient and listen to each song in its entirety; there was no skipping, shuffling, or looping. I remember I had this one U2 tape, don’t judge, for some reason I really liked U2 when I was young and like Bono also thought futuristic looking glasses with orange lenses were cool. Anyway, I listened to one track With or Without You so much the tape actually wore out. My Most Played songs weren’t compiled on an easy to navigate playlist, they were tangibly evident, handpicked and added to tapes which I listened to until they fell apart.
Hairstyling. I mean the old school methods we used before ceramics came into play. I remember ironing my sister Jo’s hair before a date, with an actual fucking iron. Damn Jo, you looked so fine for that date; your hair frizzy at the roots dead straight at the end, your white pleated mini skirt, maroon velvet midriff and black choker. The 90s were cruel. I also remember sleeping with my hair in rags or foam curlers to make it curly the next day. Everything took time and effort, so you only did it if it was a really important occasion, like a date with a pimply hormone raging teen.
Spotlight/Murder in the Dark. Those childhood games that didn’t involve any GPS poké balls or candy crush bullshit. These were games played at parties, carefully planned out with your closest friends. Spotlight on our farm was the best. I remember sprinting in the dark scared out of my mind, adrenalin coursing through my veins, praying I didn’t lose my footing on a rabbit hole. Then laying in the cool grass, looking up at the stars, my heart racing and lungs burning, trying to breathe quietly as I hid from the light.
Phone calls on landlines. Yep, patiently waiting till Mum got off the phone, then fighting my sisters to use it next. All so I could call my friends and pull some Mean Girls-esque 3 way chat style shit. No matter how long the duration of the call, my Dad would always end up yelling at me to get off the phone in case someone else was trying to get through. Like our family was that important? I also really liked making prank calls with my friends, I once rang Kids Helpline and relayed some sort of dramatic saga in which I claimed I’d been abused. Shit, I never realised how messed up that was. Sorry Kids Helpline.
All of the things I’ve listed required waiting, planning, patience. Which made them feel so fucking good. We’re living in a culture of immediacy, of speed and ease. You have access to what you want when you want, and it just takes a little of the shine off. I don’t even have to wait to get a Mary’s burger next time I’m out in Newtown, I can get one delivered to my door for lunch. Having all things immediately available has inexorably altered how we think and feel; we’re harder to impress and just take things for granted.
Wow, I don’t think I’ll have any problems being a whingey old woman… You kids just don’t understaaaaand.