I’ve always been nostalgic, but I’ll say it plainly: ’90s summers were something special, and I miss them. I miss lying out in my fluorescent pink bathing suit with a clear Pepsi nearby and Sinead O’Connor playing in the background. Those days felt easy, and not only because I was a teenager without adult responsibilities. They felt easier because I wasn’t absorbing endless information all day. I wasn’t scrolling. I wasn’t being interrupted by constant updates. I saw people in real life, connected face-to-face, and appreciated simple things without needing them to be bigger or shinier.
I long for that version of summer. Honestly, my kids long for it too, and they weren’t even alive then. Over the years, I’ve loved sharing little pieces of my carefree childhood with them. But now that they’re older and busy making their own summer plans, I’ve decided to bring back a ’90s summer for myself.
Here’s what that looks like for me.
I’m buying magazines again. I used to love flipping through catalogues and magazines, and there’s still something about the smell of glossy paper mixed with perfume samples that takes me right back to my peach-colored bedroom. That was where I found outfit inspiration, relationship advice, and random little ideas I carried around with me. I loved bringing a stack of magazines on road trips or to the beach. Now, when I thumb through them, I feel calmer instead of overstimulated. Scrolling usually amps me up, but reading a magazine slows me down. I’m honestly surprised by how much better my attention feels.
I’m taking long walks without my phone. No podcast, no music, no buzzing notifications, and no beeping reminders. Walking this way has made me notice nature again. I’m seeing wildflowers and birds I haven’t paid attention to in years because I’m actually present. The other day, I noticed a mossy spot under a tree, tucked away behind some bushes. When I was a kid, I would have grabbed books and a quilt and spent the entire afternoon there. Wandering my neighborhood without distractions has opened up space in my mind for thoughts I haven’t had in years, and it feels deeply nourishing.
I’m walking around the air-conditioned mall with a big-ass soda. My sisters and I used to do this on hot afternoons with no real plan and not much money to spend. We would just wander, check out stores, talk, and wonder if we might run into anyone we knew. Online shopping is convenient, but it doesn’t feel the same. Going into stores again and noticing what catches my eye has reminded me that shopping used to be an experience, not just a transaction.
I’m writing actual notes. If my kids are home and I run out for a bit, I leave a note. If I want to remind them of something, I write it down. If I want to tell them I love them, I put it on paper. I still text, of course, but handwritten notes have a sweetness that a quick message on a screen just doesn’t have.
I’m going to the library and choosing whatever catches my eye. No BookTok. No Goodreads. No list of what everyone else says I should read next. I’m just wandering the stacks, judging books by their covers even though we’re not supposed to, and taking home whatever intrigues me.
Creating a ’90s summer for myself now that my kids aren’t around as much has reminded me what actually matters to me and what genuinely makes me happy. I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. I feel peaceful, and so many wonderful memories have started coming back. The simple things I used to love are bringing me more joy than ever. It turns out I wasn’t just missing the ’90s. I was missing a version of myself, and I’m finally finding her again.
Katie: I live in Maine with my three kids, two ducks, and a goldendoodle. When I’m not writing, I’m usually reading, at the gym, redecorating my home, or spending too much money online.
Inspired by this post on Scary Mom.
