It’s Not the 90s We Miss — It’s the Way We Felt Within It
There’s a quiet longing moving through the collective right now.
A return to the 90s.
To slower days.
Better music.
Less technology.
A time that felt… more real.
And while I feel the softness in that,
I also feel something else.
A contraction.
It’s not the 90s we miss…
it’s the way our bodies felt within it.
The quiet.
The presence.
The not needing to be seen to exist.
A time when we adorned…
rather than altered,
and beauty felt like an extension…
not a correction.
the threshold
The 90s sat at a threshold…
between analog and digital
between being and becoming
The last exhale before everything sped up.
We didn’t know it at the time…
but we were living in a world that still allowed space.
To wait.
To feel.
To be bored.
And in that space…
we could hear ourselves.
what we remember
Music wasn’t content.
It was identity.
You didn’t skim it…
you lived inside it.
Albums were felt in full.
Lyrics became part of your inner world.
There was space to process emotion
without needing to perform it.
And beyond that…
There was an absence
we don’t have in the same way now.
No endless noise.
No pressure to capture every moment.
No constant comparison sitting in your pocket.
Just space…
to be with yourself.
To land.
What we’re really remembering
is the space we once had to feel.
the shadow
But we have to be honest about something.
That time also held weight.
War.
Fear.
Global unrest.
Emotional suppression.
A lack of support systems we now rely on.
We didn’t necessarily feel less…
we just weren’t exposed to everything, all the time.
And many things weren’t spoken about.
Stress wasn’t named.
Burnout wasn’t understood.
We didn’t always see what our parents were carrying.
So when we romanticise the past…
we have to hold both.
what we choose now
I feel a contraction
when I hear the longing for a time that’s passed.
Because often, underneath it…
is a quiet resistance to being fully here.
We didn’t just lose that way of living…
We chose speed.
Convenience.
Constant input.
And now we’re being invited to become conscious in that.
Because we also have something powerful now:
Choice.
We get to choose what we consume.
We get to choose how we live.
Technology may have sped things up…
but it also gave us the ability to create, connect and share in ways we never could before.
The question is…
how are we using it?
this is where my work lives
This is the space I keep returning to…
in my life
and in my work.
A remembering.
That beauty was never meant to feel like pressure.
That hair was never meant to feel like something to fix.
That rituals were never meant to be aesthetic… but embodied.
In a world that moves fast,
I’ve chosen to create spaces that don’t.
Spaces where you can sit.
Breathe.
Arrive back into your body.
Where your hair is not just styled…
but held as an extension of your energy.
Where we slow down enough
to actually feel what’s ready to shift.
This is what I feel we’re really craving.
Not the past…
but presence.
for the stylists, the space holders
And for those of you in this industry…
the stylists
the facilitators
the ones holding space for others
I feel this is the invitation too.
To move beyond the noise.
The trends.
The constant output.
And return to:
Touch.
Intuition.
Connection.
To create spaces that feel
real
grounded
and deeply human.
Because people aren’t just seeking a service anymore…
They’re seeking a feeling.
remembering
If you find yourself longing for slower…
Start there.
Dance in your kitchen.
Roll up the roller door.
Invite people over for a potluck.
Let it be messy.
Let it be real.
Let it be unfiltered.
Bring that same energy into your work.
Into your clients.
Into your spaces.
Because the beauty you’re longing for…
still exists.
It was never gone.
It’s not the 90s you miss…
it’s who you were within it.
And she’s still here.
Not in the past,
but in every choice you make now.
Without that time…
without that music…
without that feeling…
we wouldn’t be here.
This isn’t about going back.
It’s about remembering…
and choosing
how you live now.
