The in-between moments of life whether waiting at a train station or scrolling aimlessly through our phones often feel hollow, like pauses in a song that never quite resolve. These spaces, both physical and emotional, are markers of our supermodern world, a concept that philosopher Marc Augé describes as defined by non-places, spaces of transience and anonymity where human connection feels incidental.
In this landscape of fleeting interactions and relentless motion, a curious phenomenon has emerged: an overwhelming yearning for the past. Nostalgia has become more than a wistful longing for simpler times, it’s a response to the alienation of modern life, a coping mechanism for the loss of grounding.
Why Nostalgia Now?
The rise of nostalgia is not random. Moments of uncertainty like the pandemic disrupt our sense of continuity, leaving us detached. When the present feels unstable and the future overwhelming, the past becomes a refuge. We turn to it not just for comfort but for clarity, a reminder of who we are and where we come from.
But this surge in nostalgia isn’t just personal; it’s cultural. It’s reflected in the return of vinyl records, the revival of 90s fashion, and the rise of retro aesthetics in branding and media. Even the way we consume content has shifted: the grainy, imperfect visuals of film photography are back, standing in stark contrast to the high-definition polish of digital life.
Nostalgia in the Age of Supermodernity
Supermodernity surrounds us with spaces and experiences designed for function, not connection. The clean, efficient lines of minimalism, the ubiquity of algorithmically curated feeds, the soulless sprawl of urban planning, they all prioritize performance over personality. In this environment, nostalgia reintroduces warmth, texture, and humanity into a world that can feel sterile and detached.
Consider the design of non-places like airports, shopping malls, and chain hotels. They are spaces without memory, where individual stories blur into the background of globalized sameness. Nostalgia offers a counterbalance, grounding us in the precision of memory and the uniqueness of our personal histories. It asks us to pause and notice the details—the handwritten note, the faded poster, the uneven cobblestones—that make us feel rooted.
The Role of Design in Nostalgia
Design has always played a key role in shaping how we experience the world, and nostalgia is no exception. Today, brands are tapping into this sentiment, not just through retro aesthetics but by embracing imperfection. Consider the resurgence of “wabi-sabi” in design, a Japanese philosophy that celebrates the beauty of impermanence and the incomplete. Or the trend of “photo dumps” on social media, where casual, uncurated snapshots resonate more deeply than polished, posed images.
These movements reflect a growing fatigue with perfection and a desire for authenticity. Nostalgia helps fill this void by reminding us of a time when things felt more real, when objects had weight, spaces had character, and connections felt tangible.
Nostalgia as a Guide
Rather than viewing nostalgia as escapism, we can see it as a guide, a way to reimagine how we design for connection in an increasingly disconnected world. By understanding what draws us to the past, we can begin to apply those principles to the present. This might mean designing spaces that encourage lingering instead of rushing, embracing imperfections instead of hiding them, or creating systems that prioritize people over efficiency.
The in-betweens of life both physical and emotional can be places of profound meaning if we allow them to be. Nostalgia teaches us to pause, to notice, and to find value in what we often overlook. In doing so, it offers us a way to reclaim our humanity in a world that too often feels impersonal.
As we continue to explore these ideas, let’s consider: How can we design not just for function, but for emotion? How can we create spaces digital or physical that honor the past while embracing the present?
