Lately, it feels like 2016 is quietly slipping back into everyday life.\u00a0<\/p>\n
At first, it shows up in small, unnoticeable ways: a scarf worn more for style than warmth, an old pop song resurfacing in a playlist or a throwback video appearing on TikTok. None of it seems significant on its own. But together, the pattern becomes harder to ignore.<\/p>\n
Fashion, music and internet culture from nearly a decade ago are suddenly everywhere, and people are leaning into it with surprising enthusiasm.<\/p>\n
Our social media feeds are filled with decade-old photos, familiar songs and early internet aesthetics that once defined the 2010s. The phrase \u201c2026 is the new 2016\u201d captures the\u00a0 shared feeling better\u00a0 than it makes a literal comparison.\u00a0<\/p>\n
People aren\u2019t just revisiting the year 2016 \u2014 they\u2019re romanticizing the mindset that came with it.<\/p>\n
For many, 2016 represents a time when everything felt so heavy. It was pre-Trump, pre-pandemic and pre-constant doom scrolling. Posting on social media didn\u2019t require perfect lighting, strategic timing or a clever caption crafted for likes. People seemed less afraid to be awkward, less concerned with perfection and less aware of how closely they were being watched.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The world felt more colorful and spontaneous then. Today, it can feel gray and muted by comparison. The constant rush of life, paired with an endless stream of bad news, leaves little room for genuine whimsy.\u00a0<\/p>\n
In 2016, moments were shared because people\u00a0 wanted to share them \u2014 not because they felt pressure to maintain an online presence or personal brand.<\/p>\n
In that sense, life felt simpler. Less curated. Less exhausting. More genuine.<\/p>\n
Fashion is one of the most visible signs of this nostalgia. On campus and online, students are wearing 2016 staples\u00a0 like scarves and skinny jeans \u2014 not as a joke, but as genuine outfit choices. After years dominated by minimalist trends and neutral palettes, the return of these looks feels familiar and comforting.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Music from that era is also making a comeback. Songs that once dominated car rides, school dances and early streaming playlists are resurfacing and gaining renewed attention. Videos of people dancing to Zara Larsson\u2019s \u201cLush Life\u201d circulate online, while tracks like The Weeknd\u2019s \u201cCan\u2019t Feel My Face\u201d are once again blaring from car speakers during drives with friends.<\/p>\n
According to Spotify<\/a> data, playlists featuring songs from 2016 rose 71% last year compared to 2024. Other major artists from that era, including Justin Bieber and Drake<\/a>, are also regaining popularity.<\/p>\n The appeal lies not only in the sound but in the memories attached to it. Hearing these songs again triggers shared reactions, especially among people who grew up with music constantly playing in the background of their lives. The familiarity creates an instant sense of connection.<\/p>\n That doesn\u2019t mean 2016 was actually simple or problem-free. Like any year, it came with political tension, cultural shifts and uncertainty. Nostalgia, however, rarely focuses on complexity. Instead, it highlights the parts that felt joyful, communal and uncomplicated.<\/p>\n On Lehigh\u2019s campus, this nostalgia appears in small but meaningful ways. Students share memories of 2016 trends like the Mannequin Challenge set to Rae Sremmurd\u2019s \u201cBlack Beatles,\u201d Pok\u00e9mon Go, black chokers, Snapchat filters and Vine. Even brief references to these moments spark smiles and recognition.<\/p>\n Those who remember 2016 look back fondly on the shared culture that created a sense of connection \u2014 something that feels increasingly rare in today\u2019s fast-paced digital world.<\/p>\n There\u2019s also something comforting about revisiting trends that once allowed people to embrace a little awkwardness. Fashion and internet culture in the 2010s encouraged bolder, more playful self-expression. Compared with today\u2019s perfection-driven standards, that openness feels refreshing.<\/p>\n This wave of nostalgia isn\u2019t an attempt to recreate 2016 exactly as it was. Instead, it reflects a desire for authenticity, connection and ease in a world that often feels overwhelming. Students balancing academics, social lives and uncertain futures are drawn to reminders of a time that felt \u201ceasier,\u201d even if only in hindsight.<\/p>\n Eventually, this trend will fade, and another era will take its place in the nostalgia cycle.Trends always come and go. But the comfort of shared memory tends to linger a little longer.\u00a0<\/p>\n While we can\u2019t go back, we can let the loud colors, familiar songs and unfiltered spirit of 2016 seep into our lives \u2014\u00a0 adding a bit more brightness and playfulness to the present. <\/p>\n \t