Nostalgia, sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations. This concept isn’t anything new. If you look past any generation of people, they look to a past they wished they belonged to. Gen X, for example, has a deep infatuation with the 50s-60s. The 90s had an infatuation for the 70s. However, Gen Z and Millennials are the first generations to actually look at the 90s, 2000s, 2010s and do something about it.

With the release of the Nintendo Switch 2, many people found themselves more disappointed than excited. You don’t actually own any of the games or even the console—Nintendo retains full control and can disable your Switch if you do something they disapprove of. That alone caused a lot of people to immediately drop the idea of buying the console.

Now, people are ditching newer consoles and going back to the ones they have the fondest memories of: the Xbox 360, PlayStation 4, GameCube, even the Atari. While collectors have been buying these for display for years, there’s been a shift—people are picking up these consoles again just to play. Platforms like Steam offer older versions of Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3/4 games. Recently, for example, I bought the original “Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2” from 2009. Even though the graphics reflect the time it was made, I had significantly more fun with that version than with the 2022 reboot, which I bought hoping it would get me into “Call of Duty” as an adult.

Gen Z and Millennials are the first generations to actively push back against a market they don’t like. And this isn’t limited to video games.

Since shows like “Stranger Things” and “Outer Banks” gained popularity with younger audiences, a wave of 1980s nostalgia has returned to mainstream culture—especially in fashion. Mom jeans and scrunchies are prime examples. As the decade progressed, trends from other eras started to resurface as well.

’90s-style low-rise jeans have made a comeback, especially through thrifting, which has become a popular alternative to fast fashion—where companies choose cheaper production to meet demand. Younger Gen Z, younger Millennials and even older members of Gen Alpha are driving this trend and stores are scrambling to keep up. Now, Y2K styles are taking over again: cargo pants, mini skirts, chunky sneakers—you name it.

As fashion brought a wave of nostalgia that either excited or concerned the older generations, it was only natural to think video games would follow suit. But they didn’t—at least not in the way people hoped. Triple A game companies aren’t listening and neither are the console manufacturers. Sure, Nintendo teased a GameCube controller that connects to the Switch 2, but that’s not what fans really wanted. They want effort and care put back into the products.

When I was younger, Walmart’s game section was massive—walls lined with cases, demo stations where you could play the latest titles. Now? It’s a tiny corner with overpriced games that seem like they were made without passion. Sure, some standout games still get released, but they’re usually made by smaller studios, where a small team worked for years to bring their vision to life. Not like Rockstar Games—who, mind you, have reportedly had “Grand Theft Auto 6” finished for a while but won’t release it because “Grand Theft Auto 5” is still selling. It’s ridiculous.

So, people started taking matters into their own hands. I saw a video of a man on Instagram who, along with his friends, ditched their Xbox Ones, hooked up their Xbox 360s and started replaying the old games. And honestly, I couldn’t agree more. The last game I truly enjoyed—without waiting four days for a single update (looking at you, “Call of Duty”)—was Detroit: Become Human, which came out in 2018. We shouldn’t have to sift through garbage to find quality. Sure, bad games existed in the 2000s, but they at least had effort behind them. It was a matter of taste—not a complaint about quality. And they weren’t $80–$90 per game, either. The most you’d pay back then was $50 for a new release and prices dropped within months.

Now? Walk into a GameStop and a five-year-old used game is still $70.

There’s a lot of confusion about who qualifies as Gen Z, so here’s a quick breakdown: Gen Z includes those born from 1997 to 2012. That means many of us experienced the 2000s, even if we were quite young. I was born in the early 2000s and was five when the decade ended, but I still have memories—albeit vague. My older siblings, who were teens during that time, exposed me to many experiences that blur the line between Millennial and Gen Z. And one of those experiences stands out:

I used to watch my brother play video games for hours every day. The Xbox was in our parents’ room and we’d sit on their bed while he played and I watched. I was fascinated—it felt like watching a movie. Even as we got older, that was still how we bonded: he played, I watched. I vividly remember the games: “Skate 3”, “Alice: Madness Returns”, “Call of Duty”, “Borderlands”, “Halo”—the list goes on. Those games are the reason I started gaming myself and many of the titles I picked up were based on my brother’s recommendations.

The Instagram video I mentioned earlier brought back all those memories—watching my brother and sister play while I sat nearby. Some might think that’s sad, like I was being left out because I was too young or considered annoying, but that wasn’t the case. I just physically couldn’t play some of the games—”Guitar Hero” being one of them. The guitar controller was the size of my whole body. Still, even if they found me annoying (which I doubt), I always loved watching. It was like seeing a story unfold on screen.

Which brings me to this: We know we can’t go back in time, but companies—especially game developers—need to listen to what we want. I’ve seen so many people go back to iPods (my friend included), flip phones, Polaroid cameras, old makeup trends—the list goes on. People want the feeling back: the carefree energy, the color, the individuality. We want it all again.

Today, everything feels gray and bleak. Older Millennials and Gen Z minimalists have created homes filled with beige tones. Some even go as far as spray-painting their kids’ toys because they’re “too colorful.” Bring back the bright pinks, the greens, the animal prints that made your eyes hurt. I want the zebra and cheetah prints. I want the boy bands, the girl bands, the glossy magazines, the effort.

I’m not saying the 2000s were perfect—far from it. Especially for women and teens who were deemed “fat” for weighing 130 lbs. But I believe that as the market shifts, largely thanks to people demanding better, we’re starting to reclaim individuality. People are thrifting more because of fast fashion and rejecting the idea that we all have to look the same. Individuality isn’t scary—it’s necessary.

Growing up in a small farm town, being different was practically taboo. You had to act and dress like everyone else, or you’d be bullied. I remember wearing a Mötley Crüe shirt from a 2006 concert my parents attended. In algebra class, two girls who never spoke to me suddenly said my name.

I turned around and one of them said, “I like your shirt.” Confused, I replied, “Thanks,” then turned back around—only to hear them giggling. That was bullying. It still happens.

Bullying for being different is nothing new—every generation deals with it. The 2000s were especially brutal for those who didn’t fit the Y2K skinny mold (a problematic trend making a disturbing comeback on TikTok).

But at least now, we can recognize what those decades gave us and what we won’t tolerate anymore.

Some people think this new wave of nostalgia is scary. I don’t. I think it’s good that we’re pushing back against cookie-cutter trends and telling corporations to shove it. Fashion will change again. Some people are already dressing like it’s 2014 (and yes, I miss the chokers too)—but as long as people stand up and refuse to support things they dislike, the buyer will always come out on top.

Because, after all, we control the market. A lot of people seem to forget that.

This article was made in loving memory of Nicolas “Nikki” Horn (1993-2024).