“Nostalgia appeals to the feeling that the past offered delights no longer obtainable,” the social critic Christopher Lasch wrote in The True and Only Heaven. Mostly a white people’s pastime, nostalgia used to be a pining for an idealized yesteryear, for a prelapsarian world tinted in sepia. But nostalgia isn’t what it used to be, to borrow the wistful title of Simone Signoret’s memoirs. It’s only fair that Generation Xers-the Nine-ettes-enjoy their turn in the hot-tub time machine now that they’re old enough to appreciate what a disappointment life can be after the louche splendors of the old dorm. As someone whose decade loyalty is to the 70s, I don’t begrudge others their 90s glow-on. The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, a 90s kids’ favorite, are set for a movie reboot, the songs of Alanis Morissette stream from the car speakers of the sporty convertible Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon share in the upcoming The Trip to Italy, and Coogi knitwear has made a comeback. Grunge Friends Seinfeld Felicity Dawson’s Creek Buffy the Vampire Slayer The X-Files My So-Called Life Beverly Hills, 90210 Clueless Thelma & Louise The Matrix Saved by the Bell Boy Meets World Beavis and Butt-Head Elizabeth Wurtzel’s Prozac Nation Biggie Smalls Tupac Shakur the hoop-net arabesques of Michael Jordan-what a hit parade. The ’90s: The Last Great Decade?,” asks the title of the National Geographic Channel’s three-part documentary special, premiering this month, the noisy capper to a 90s nostalgia craze that really got raring last year online, along the cable grid, and in the dense foliage of the fashion pages.
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