EN / PT
We were born between 1980 and 2000. We were the first and the last generation in history that had to transfer our lives from analogic to digital.
The first half of us lived a childhood with restricted access to information: only a few television channels, cassette tapes to record our favorite tunes on the radio – if we were lucky enough to have them aired when we were ready to tape them – and, as time went by, we had to adapt to the speed of information: cable TV, internet, social media, iPhone, Netflix, Instagram, Snapchat… Today we have a social security number and an Apple ID. We started consuming a surreal amount of information becoming anxious, frustrated, depressed, scared and hyper-connected to everything. In a very shallow way, though.
We are suffering from a phobia called FOMO – Fear of Missing Out – something like the fear of losing anything like a music festival that a celebrity posted on Instagram or the release of a product that is happening somewhere else. The so-called “see-now-buy-now” of fashion is an answer to this fellow FOMO.
By the way, it was in this turn of the millennium that the brands we love became big corporations, something like banks, that use the flood of information available to create a Tsunami of desires of things that we do not actually need or can afford.
We are infected by clothes, bodies and skins that we do not have. Instead of reading a magazine or the newspaper with a summary of the news of the day, the week or the month, we only see fragments of information. Second by second. It is everywhere. In all the screens around us, the real life window. We see, we do not read.
We feel nostalgic about our childhood, in the ‘80s and ‘90s, when information was very valuable and shaped our personalities. Our tastes and ideas did not need to be shared. There were subcultures and privacy was something sophisticated. Today, everything is wide-open. The counterculture became mainstream. Consider Rihanna. She is Caribbean, naturalised American. She is black and blonde or redhead. She sings reggae and hip-hop. She is the muse of Dior, Balmain and Puma. @badgalriri is the Millennials muse. Only a few can make so many different things, with such charm and style, promoting and publicizing everything in real time. Having a glass of wine in the streets of Paris or smoking pot in the Barbados’ street parties.
Not to mention the most emblematic icon of the young adults born in the ‘90s: Kendall Jenner. When I watched the movie Truman Show, starring Jim Carrey, a story of 1998 of a man who was born to be a television personality and all of his life happened within a scenery, I could never imagine that it would actually be a prophecy of the Kardashians and of many others that would like to be (or not) famous, registering step by step of their daily lives on the many screens available around us.
We have gone way too far. It was the beginning of home internet, with that big family PC, shared in the living room. Director Peter Weil was a genius way ahead of his time.
My comfort comes from the audacity of the youngsters, that today are about 18 years old, and are the last fragment of the Millennials’ generation.
Those who grew up with Instagram, Apple ID and watched cartoons on the screen of an IPad. They came to the world under a different perspective. They were born in streaming and learned to filter from a young age, to search for a real reality and not the reality of the reality shows’.
Without critics, we were the tasters of new technologies and we are making history through experimentation. Without references, we invented a way to live connected, preparing the next generation to question everything all over again, to start over and make everything different. Learning from our mistakes. After all, in a desert island or in Times Squarte, humans are only humans. And Millenials are, more than anything, humans.