At the dawn of the millennium, the future was shiny and digital. Two and a half decades later, everyone’s living the dream all over again. From animal print to ballet flats, frosted lip gloss to digital cameras, the early 2000’s are back in culture relevance. Gen Z has dubbed this style as Y2K – after the y2k millennium bug that put the public into panic in 1999. So why is everybody suddenly obsessed with the culture and aesthetics of a time period that was once considered a relic?
It’s no phenomenon that fashion circles back. There’s documented consistent evidence of trends, fashion and aesthetics recycling every 20 years – which is why many predicted the rise of the early 2000s when we hit 2020. Many attribute the resurgence of y2k to nostalgia, the death of originality, microtrends and even tiktok. I believe it’s a meld of all those reasons, precisely why I also believe its death in pop culture is imminent.
Fashion and pop culture thrive on originality and creation, so why do they get recycled so often? For Gen Z, who were either babies or not yet born in the early 2000s, Y2K represents a past they never experienced firsthand. It’s oddly nostalgic for a time that they were never a part of (also known as anemoia). The rise of Instagram and TikTok have made it easier than ever for the youth to explore the aesthetics and culture of past decades. Trends went viral these past few years featuring y2k-esque styling, makeup and music videos that allowed users to feel as though they were part of that culture themselves.
A large part of this obsession of categorization and aesthetics comes from the 2020 lockdown, which greatly shaped how we interact with culture. It provided something that felt familiar and comfortable, to belong in a certain group. Psychologists suggest the revival of y2k post 2020 came from a place of nostalgia being used as a coping mechanism via revisiting the past. For many, Y2K embodied a period before the complexities of the world became overwhelming.
The entertainment and media industry, sensing this revival, started bringing back music and shows that further fuelled the y2k craze. Artists like Charli XCX, PinkPantheress and Doja Cat channel the glitzy R&B style of the 2000s into their music (2024’s most popular album BRAT by Charli XCX is heavily y2k inspired) and brand image (PinkPantheress is often seen wearing animal print and baby tees, a staple of y2k fashion). Even large fashion houses haven’t missed the memo; Blumarine, Diesel, and Miu Miu have leaned heavily into Y2K motifs, incorporating metallic fabrics, baby tees, and ultra-low-rise pants into their collections. These looks trickle down into fast fashion, making them accessible to a wider audience. Shows like Euphoria and reboots of Gossip Girl reintroduced the public to the glamour of the early 2000s.
But is this all really a harmless culture embraced by Gen Z? Beyond the glitter lies a fraught history of exclusionary beauty standards, unchecked consumerism, and early internet chaos that cannot be ignored.
Y2K fashion was dominated by low rise jeans and crop tops paired with a hyper-focus on ultra-thin bodies, further encouraged by celebrities and the media industry. The much coveted and admired “heroin chic” look of the time alienated anyone who didn’t fit in the narrow beauty standards. This fostered a culture of body shaming and disordered eating, with many Millennials and the oldest Gen Z’ers admitting surviving the early 2000s body culture was a horrifying experience, and left thousands struggling with body image and food to this day.
The culture also coincided with the peak of fast fashion and celebrity-endorsed brand obsession. The emphasis on disposable trends encourages wastefulness, even more dangerous in today’s world that’s far more affected by climate change. Early 2000s media lacked any kind of diversity and inclusivity we get today. Racist/homophobic jokes and caricatures ran wild, and the only thing that communities of colour and the LGBTQ community got in the name of representation was a grossly stereotypical side character, of course only serving as an elevating point for the white main character. Thin, conventionally attractive and white figures dominated the aesthetic, leaving zero room for marginalized communities.
However, many argue that the Y2K new age movement isn’t a thoughtless replica of the past, but rather a more inclusive homage that embraces body inclusivity, accurate and meaningful representation of marginalized communities and encourages sustainability through thrift culture. Despite these improvements, there is a lot of criticism and discussion that the Y2K revival risks glamorizing an era filled with its own issues. By focusing on the glitter and gloss, it can erase the harmful practices and social issues that defined the time.
While this trend is dominating pop culture as of now, it’s likely to fade out soon due to the cyclical nature of trends and the oversaturation of the aesthetic. It’s in the nature of trends to come and go, with the ‘clean girl look’ and ‘that girl’ already gaining speeding momentum – putting an emphasis on minimalism and simplicity. Once a niche revival, now mainstream with its hallmark styles mass produced by fast fashion and overused by media, Y2K is bound to go soon. Its ubiquity has made it less attractive to trendsetters, and younger generations like Gen Alpha might tire of an era they never experienced.
The return of Y2K culture reveals more about today’s cultural climate than it does about the past. Our world today is full of global crises, new developing technology (like AI), economic instability and political wars. This generation’s access to the internet raises a lot more problems with cyber culture too. To this Y2K offers a comforting escape, a reclamation of a moment in time where – according to its followers – life was simpler, even it really wasn’t.
Written by Anushka Sriram
