In our current state of flux, relying on future events to bring us happiness can be a frustrating and disappointing pastime, so why not spend a little time wallowing in the past instead?
In the run-up to 2021, we waited with bated breath at the prospect of being in the future; finally escaping the horrendous year that was 2020. But of course it doesn’t work like that – a second hand ticking from 23:59 to 00:00 was never going to solve the hardships of the previous year, and for many, the first month of 2021 has dredged up intensified reincarnations of the horrors already experienced in 2020.
As new strains of the Coronavirus rattle the already unsteady foundations of ‘the new normal’ and black hole-esque lockdowns stretch ahead of us, making plans for the future feels superfluous. Instead of prompting excitement, it evokes oncoming disappointment as they will likely be cancelled.
And so perhaps in these most bizarre of times, we should not be seeking comfort in plans resting on a precarious and unpredictable future but rather in nostalgia – in fantasies based in memory and a sense of happiness that is 100% guaranteed, simply because it has already happened – and it is a sensation that can be unearthed in all manner of places.
Like many, I will admit to having befriended the low da-dum that precedes every Netflix show, and while series like Bridgerton and The Crown have been exquisite, I’ve also taken great pleasure in tumbling into the nineties and early noughties through Dawson’s Creek. There is just something homely about a young Katie Holmes brandishing a flip phone as she attempts to untangle each episode’s high school drama that is inevitably resolved 45 minutes later. Cobra Kai offers an equally enticing familiarity in its flashbacks to the original Karate Kid movies, enhanced by Bananarama backing music and scrupulous adherence to the original casting. Admittedly, I wasn’t around in the 1980s, but a highlight of my mum’s parenting methods was a cultural diet of the likes of The Goonies and pre-Toy Story Tom Hanks.
“I still marvel at whichever part of my brain prompts me to flawlessly recite the phone number in ‘Kiss Me Thru The Phone’ each time it pops up on shuffle.”
A wistful reflection of the past can also be enjoyed through non-fiction mediums. If there is one form of live entertainment I really miss, it’s the communal guffaws at a stand-up show. The ones that make jokes you probably shouldn’t find funny but in the moment are entirely intoxicating. Halfway into day 1,465 of working from my kitchen table, I switched on Russell Howard’s Recalibrate set from 2017. Even ignoring the jokes he makes intentionally, there’s a ripple of humour just in Howard’s comments about what a terrible year it had been and how the news was an onslaught of misery. You wait until you reach 2020, I thought. Our recently heightened awareness of germs and their transmissibility also made me shiver at the close proximity of audience members jammed into the Brighton Dome, but it undoubtedly gave me joy to spend some time in the world of live(ish) comedy.
Podcasts have also taken on a starring role during the pandemic and while I can report that I’m actually one of the four people not to have started their own in the last 10 months, I have spent a lot of time in the company of invisible voices through my headphones. Comedian James Acaster’s Perfect Sounds for example is rooted in a longing for the past as he recalls how a break-up in 2017 led him to buy more than 500 albums from 2016, having decided he’d rather live through sounds of the previous year than music he associated with his heartbreak. Each week, Acaster tries to convince a guest that 2016 was the greatest year of music by having them listen to one of the albums. Spoiler alert: his success is minimal.
While Acaster’s fixation with 2016 may be an atypical form of nostalgia – or perhaps just an unwillingness to accept being dumped – the warmth that comes from tunes that transport us to a different time is a globally-recognised sensation. My recent rediscovery of Tina Turner and Kate Bush are already set to make their mark on my 2021 Unwrapped on Spotify and I still marvel at whichever part of my brain prompts me to flawlessly recite the phone number in ‘Kiss Me Thru The Phone’ each time it pops up on shuffle.
“I would argue that we should be eagerly seeking out any facial expression that isn’t our own verging-on-mummified faces reflected back at us on a laptop screen.”
If Netflix, podcasts, and music don’t do it for you, you’re left with one more guaranteed trove of sentimentality, which is looking back through old photos and videos.
One picture currently takes pride of place on my bookcase and it’s my favourite – primarily because it encapsulates everything that isn’t possible right now. It features a circle of people, some strangers and some best friends, donning an array of my friend’s dad’s extravagantly Hawaiian shirts as the September sun glints off patches of glitter tipsily splashed onto our faces.
Recreating that scene right now wouldn’t only be challenging weather-wise but would also land me with a £10,000 fine. But I still smile every time I see it and right now I would argue that we should be eagerly seeking out any facial expression that isn’t our own verging-on-mummified faces reflected back at us on a laptop screen.
It should be acknowledged that indulging in nostalgia isn’t without its pitfalls – it can be a slippery slope between comforting wistfulness and sheer horror at the indefinite period of time sprawling between today and the next sun-splashed group photo. Perhaps part of the sweetness of reminiscing actually comes from imagining that much of what the pandemic has deprived us of will still be there when we eventually reach the other side. In the meantime, echoes of pleasures long passed will have to fill that gap, and while living in the past isn’t considered a healthy occupation full-time, I’d argue there’s minimal harm in whiling away a couple of hours of today living vicariously through our pre-pandemic selves.
Hannah Ward-Glenton
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash. Image license found here. No changes were made to this image.
Hannah Ward-Glenton
Current Affairs Editor for Empoword Journalism | Staff writer at loveMONEY.com | English & German grad from Southampton Uni | Big lover of dancing |