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As 2025 came to a close an interesting movement sparked to life on the internet, that being, an increasing demand for physical media and a greater romanticizing of life lived offline. The movement gained momentum in the new year with 2026 being declared "the year we go back to analog." It's a sort of strange irony to watch content creators flaunt hauls of CDs and hear through various TikToks how much better life would be without, well... TikTok. Don't get me wrong, I think the idea is wonderful and the demand for things that last is long overdue. I also understand that ironic or not the fastest way to spread the word is through the internet.


So, if I'm on board, why am I writing about the death of physical media? My hesitancy to accept this as the "year of analog" stems from Gen Z's track record of impermanence. We dive into a new idea, romanticize the crap out of it, overconsume, and inevitably burn ourselves out before moving on to the next big thing. I guess my question boils down to; is this truly a movement, or just another trend?

If it is a trend, and three months from now no one cares if you're buying DVDs or paying for three different streaming services, then it will only serve as a nail in the coffin of the way we consume physical media. I don't think it's going to go extinct or die in terms of simply not being created anymore, because as long as human beings exist we will have an innate desire to create. There will always be people who believe music sounds better on vinyl, poets who will always prefer the feeling of paper under their pens, and artists who'll mix their own paint before they ever succumb to generating their ideas through AI. Our very nature is to create, explore and experience. Our curiosity has always driven us forward and I fully believe it will continue to do so.


What's in danger isn't the existence of physical media, but rather the way we experience it. Gone our the days of driving to the local Blockbuster to rent a movie, and though we're not likely to stop making movies or watching them, the experience that came with renting a DVD has been outmoded for the sake of convenience. Our way of life has conformed to the idea that anything taking us out of our way must be labeled "inconvenient."

Even our romanticizing of the past has been neatly formulated into short form content and five second clips to scroll through while watching another larger screen simultaneously. Is it redundant to say nostalgia isn't what it used to be?


It's certainly redundant to say the world is always changing, because it always has been, and yet the changes seem to be coming faster now. Like an avalanche gaining momentum as it crashes down a mountainside. It's hard to imagine 250 years ago the sewing machine didn't exist. Neither did the phones, cars or movies for that mater. Now with the rise of artificial intelligence, we can generate movies within moments, ride in cars that drive themselves, and phones have evolved into pocket computers so complex they seem to rival the technology that put man on the moon. Have we gone to far? Is this avalanche of technological industrialization truly killing the creative industry? Perhaps "reshaping the creative industry" is a better term. However, the question remains, is it a better fate?


We're already seeing the toll AI is taking on graphic designers, painters, musicians and even actors. Aspects of the fashion industry are also suffering the effects of AI dupes as our generation struggles to find a balance of creative control. Realistically speaking they're not going to discontinue the use of AI, so why are we resisting the future? The answer is simple really; in order to embrace hope, we have to resist control.

Gen Z has the right idea by spreading the word that tangible media is still important, but what percentage of Gen Z do you think woke up on January first and declared the beginning of the "year of analog" by deleting Spotify? Or Netflix? Or by trading out their smartphones for Blackberries? I'm not saying we're wrong for not jumping in 100%, just the opposite in fact, I think we're on to something. By searching for a balance between the physical and digital, we're projecting the idea that entertainment is meant to be enjoyed. We're announcing that we should be allowed to take control of it, to slow down and rewatch or reread the things we want to consume.


It's interesting to me, of all the things to be invented, industrialized, and automated in the last 250 years something as simple as the sewing machine still requires the steady guidance of human hands...and feet. Which brings me to another question, where does fashion fit into the preservation of physical media?

When we think of media we often think of movies, music, zines and writings. Though fashion may not meet the textbook definition of media, one can't deny the influence they have on each other. It's also one of the most physical forms of creative work as the very function of fashion is to be physically worn on the body. I think it's safe to say you can't fully digitize fashion, and with the sewing machine still requiring man/woman power, you can't even fully automate fashion. However, the way we experience fashion is in the same danger as the way we experience physical media.


With the rise of flash fashion, the convenience of same day shipping and cheap prices, we're allured into sacrificing the quality that comes with clothes crafted with intention. Trends have become something we metaphorically subscribe too. Here one day, gone the next. Something so physical, so personal as clothes, becoming as impermeant as paper plates. It isn't often teenagers today plan trips to the mall in early September, armed with $200 and the goal of finding new school clothes. Now it can all be done from an app you carry in your pocket. Add it to the cart and it arrives at your doorstep in less than 48 hours. Is this the face of convenience? Stripping away the activities associated with community? Is this why it's become of awkward to ask someone to hang out; because anything that could be done on our phones has become taboo to want to do in person?


Trend or not, right now we're making an effort to preserve physical media, let's not lose sight of why. It's not to build collections and it's not to find new ways to consume. We're doing this to preserve connection.



Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed what you read consider leaving a comment!

-Coco Elouise Marie

We've all heard that phrase before haven't we? So often we hear it mentioned when someone is discussing art they enjoy and the artist has been branded "problematic." In a world where free speech has been magnified by the internet, the freedom to enjoy things at face value seems to have vanished. Before we can comment on our interest in music, movies, fashion, or art, we must first check to see if the creator fits into our peer's description of moral accountability. I stress "our peer's description" because left to ourselves without outside judgement how often would we analyze our own likes and dislikes?


Yet the question remains; can we truly separate the art from the artist? If the answer is no, at what point of the artist's corruption does their art become morally unconsumable? No matter what side of the debate you lean towards, or where you draw the the line, this is a divisive subject and there will be always be people who disagree. Even when I first started researching this topic some of the first articles I came across made claims both that the separation was needed, and that truly separating the art was impossible.

Does the separation of art from artist decontextualize their work and leave it void of any depth or meaning? Perhaps, or as so often the case, this to could depend greatly on piece by piece intention and translation. Is the song or painting referencing the controversy surrounding the artist? Does their latest fashion show encourage unethical consumption? It's pieces like this that are inseparable not just from the artist's controversy, but it's own as well.


The ability to disregard the entirety of an artist's life's work is further complicated by their own influence. Andy Warhol comes to mind as an example who's influence across several different fields can't be denied, much less disregarded. Putting your feelings on his personal beliefs and statements aside, his mark on the worlds of pop art, film, and even fashion have become historically significant. To erase this history because you disagree with the views of the artist would decontextualize most post-modern art being created today.

I have found a large amount of cancel culture surrounds around the idea of an artist creating moral controversy, and not about whether or not the art itself reflects that controversy or creates it's own.


After the recent death of Bridget Bardot there was a considerable amount of discussion surrounding how ethical it is to morn or celebrate the life she lead. Bardot was a fashion icon, sex symbol, and all around "it girl" in the 1960's, known for her big bouffant hair as well as for her work as an animal rights activist. However in the more recent years leading up to her death, she was noted for being convicted on five* separate accounts for inciting racial hatred. A mark that certainly overshadows her more charitable features.

*I have seen posts attributing her to six convictions, however I have only been able to confirm five through my own research.

Naturally the internet had lots of hateful things to add to the discourse. Some people sided with her, adding further hurtful comments on race, religion and political views. Others made equally hateful accusations against her, broadening the blame to anyone whose so much as saved a photo of the late actress to a Pinterest board labeled "Hair."


Now that some time has passed, and the rage of anyone with access to a keyboard has died down, the argument has again boiled down to the same question: Can we separate the art from the artist? Bardot's work, both as a model and film star leave behind a legacy of 1960's pop culture, one that can't easily be ignored. So how are we to interact with the piece of history that has been left to us?

As I've stated before, I believe art can be viewed separately from the artist as long as the art is taken in context of itself. I do not view Bardot as a suitable role model, however, I do have her picture saved on a Pinterest board labeled "Hair." This is not my way of condoning or disregarding her comments or views, but maybe my Pinterest board wasn't meant to be political.


Where we so often ask if the artist is problematic, do we stop to consider what message the art itself is sending? We listen to songs about topics we would never feel comfortable with their writers participating in, we enjoy runway fashions with little to no concern as to whether or not the models gave consent to what they would be made to wear. (Gisele Bündchen who walked topless for Alexander McQueen's S/S 1998 show.) We as a culture are quick to pass judgement with little care for context. We're so eager for our own opinions to be heard we often fail to properly articulate them. Wishing only to be marked with approval by our peers and praised for the work of a critic. Perhaps it's because it is easier to say something negative than it is to remain silent, and the only thing worse than having the agreed upon "wrong opinion" on the internet is holding no real opinion at all.



Thanks for reading, if you've made it this far consider leaving a review!

-Coco Elouise Marie

This may seem like an odd topic of choice from someone whose personal branding is so deeply rooted in the past, and yet perhaps that's why it feels so important to address. Many of us are drawn to concepts and styles from decades that aren't our own. In the world of fashion ideas move in a cycle. The influence of the past is evident because everything is visual and inspiration is widely discussed. Every once in a while some brilliant designer will come up with something that feels especially new. However, more often than not some past decade is removed from its shelf, dusted off and the cycle of trends starts again with Y2K low rise jeans and butterfly halter tops whose inspiration can be traced back to the 1800's. With all of history at our fingertips we are constantly tempted to embrace the comfort of the past when our own future seems uncertain.

That's not to say some of these rediscovered or reimagined designs don't hold charm and allure of their own, or aren't worthwhile of revisiting. Dolce and Gabbana's 2025 Alta Sartoria fashion show gave us an incredible look at historically inspired menswear blended with modern tailoring. (Helped tremendously by their confidence in a bold color pallet.) What resulted was a breathtaking collection that felt both fresh and familiar.

Gucci offered another example of the past effortlessly transcribed into the present with their Spring/Summer 2025 collection which called back the 1960's in a way that made their inspiration obvious without feeling like they were trying to play dress up with vintage clothes. An important distinction for a brand as prominent as Gucci.


Now that I've given credit to fashionable callbacks and admitted myself to being entirely centered on nostalgic fashion, when does this indulgence in the past go to far? It's important to recognize the difference between romanticizing the past and learning from it. Nostalgia feeds of the idea we were better off in the past. While there's nothing wrong with bringing the better parts of the past into the future, sometimes we have to be reminded the only direction we can travel through time is forward. Nostalgic fashion becomes harmful on our mental wellbeing as well as our social outlook when it convinces us there's more to miss in times past than the simplicity of aesthetic.

This is usually when we see big retail brands trying to capitalize on the feelings that come through hindsight. They use algorithms, targeted ads, and the hype from nostalgia obsessed teenagers to create a collective longing for the feeling their product promises. I may sound like I'm making them out to sound intentionally devious, but how harmful can that really be? Anyone whose studied sales knows you can't effectively advertise products without marketing a feeling. Even my own brand is based entirely on the idea of reviving the styles and aesthetics of the 1960's. I recognize this is a grey area and it's difficult to draw an exact line at how much musing on the past is to much.

Which brings me to my next point, the fault of nostalgia lays in intention. Every brand no mater how big or small has a choice of how to market nostalgia. They can use their platform to encourage self expression through callback styles, or they can create longing for a period they claim their product can reproduce. Creating longing is usually used when a company is less concerned with community and than it is with profit. By convincing you that you missed out on how great things used to be they trap you into buying products full of false promises to bring back the feelings of the past. A past not near as spectacular as the glorified version we see in media.


So why bother looking back at all? Ryan Yip stated in his article, "To Be Original" (Fashion Review issue1) "Social Media has corrupted us. (...) It forces us to compare ourselves with what others are glamorously presenting. In short, it makes us feel incomplete and unsatisfied. Within the realm of fashion this takes away the one thing that is most precious to all of us: originality."

Already nostalgia has two factors ready to convince everyone to dive in, the first being uniqueness. Though one can never compare nostalgic styles to originality since it's very definition notes it's been done before, one also wouldn't consider someone dressed for a different time period to be 'mainstream.' Nostalgia brings to the table an odd sort of protective individualism. It's been done before and it was well liked enough to be remembered, but of course by dressing for another time you're bound to stand out in your own. The second factor nostalgia brings forward is community. Like many or any fashion movements, those who commit to an aesthetic are drawn to others who do the same. Thus sparking an online community for people who dress in nearly any decade.


So here we are, comfortably nestled between community and uniqueness, needing only to occasionally be reminded that we truly are better off in the present with the technology that makes so many niche communities possible.


Thanks for reading! If you've made it this far consider leaving a review!

-Coco Elouise Marie

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