By Julianna Bryant
Julianna is a college student and member of the ConnectSafely Youth Advisory Council.
While technology keeps promising faster, smarter, and sleeker, Gen Z is choosing grainy photos, scratched CDs, and the slow ritual of pressing ‘play.’ In recent years, teenagers and young adults have shown a growing fascination with analog technology, physical media, and the Y2K aesthetic of the early 2000s. What might initially appear as a passing trend reveals something more intentional: a collective desire to slow down, reconnect with nostalgia, and reclaim meaning in an increasingly digital world. From digital cameras and record players to DVDs and analog bags, these objects offer a tangible counterbalance to the hyper-polished, always-online reality we have grown accustomed to.
The resurgence of Y2K technology and media follows a familiar historical pattern. Generations have always looked to the past—especially to the eras their parents lived through—for inspiration. In this sense, Gen Z’s embrace of early 2000s culture feels almost inevitable. Digital cameras and record players are to us what rotary phones and typewriters were to our parents. This latest resurgence is our attempt to reconnect with the past as previous generations have always done. The Y2K era represents a time before constant connectivity, when digital tools existed without dominating so many aspects of daily life. While many of us experienced this period only through childhood memories, family photo albums, or home videos, it has become a powerful source of nostalgia and creative influence.
Digital cameras, in particular, have become symbolic of this shift. In contrast to smartphones, which function as everything from calendars to mini-TVs to shopping lists, digital cameras only have one function: capturing the moment through photos and videos. This limitation is exactly what makes them appealing. Photos taken on a digital camera are intentional, saved for moments that feel meaningful rather than taken out of habit. My phone’s Photos app has a screenshot of a shirt I need to remember to buy my sister or a picture of someone’s class notes. But my “digi?” It’s reserved for the most wonderful moments in my – even if they are wonderfully mundane, such as afternoons at a local coffee shop or a themed girls’ night—without the pressure of immediate posting or perfection.
The delay between taking a photo and seeing it later adds to the experience. There is no instant upload, no real-time editing, and no urge to perform for an audience. Smartphone photography, while undeniably advanced, often feels overly enhanced and curated. Digital camera images, by contrast, are grainy, imperfect, and authentic. Oftentimes, this warmth added to the image is exactly how we remember feeling in the moment.
This same intentionality extends to the renewed interest in vinyl records. In an era where music is easily accessible, free, and endlessly shuffled through playlists, buying a record is a deliberate choice. It signals appreciation for an artist and a willingness to support their work in a tangible way. Listening to vinyl demands attention: there is no instant skipping between songs or jumping across albums. The listener commits to the album as a complete body of work, restoring a sense of intimacy to music consumption.
As we enter the new year, creators are taking to social media to post about “analog bags” – tote bags filled with offline activities and hobbies such as physical magazines, crossword and word search puzzles, books, and craft supplies. Digital cameras and Walkmans are even added to the bag sometimes. The purpose of this bag is to reduce screentime and provide an alternative to doomscrolling while sitting in long car rides, in a waiting room for an appointment, or at home. Over time, people realize that they can exist independently of their phones – and enjoy it.
This latest trend is proof that even though Gen Z grew up with the most refined version of the smartphone, they still crave the authenticity, simplicity, and permanence best captured by previous generations. This shows how cyclical trends are, as almost any trend can be revived with enough time passed, and that to create the newer, bigger, faster product, a certain component of the older version must be sacrificed that people will eventually be nostalgic for.
Ultimately, Gen Z’s renewed interest in analog objects reflects a broader desire for presence and intentional living. At a time when life is documented in real time, Gen Z is reaching for tools that ask us to pause before we press record. Digital cameras, record players, and physical media slow life down and create boundaries between everyday chaos and meaningful moments. In a culture defined by immediacy and perfection, choosing analog is a way of reclaiming control—allowing memories to exist imperfectly, privately, and honestly.