This is not an essay about Gen X nostalgia. That’s already been done, by the New York Times and others. I will admit I dove into the New York Times piece with unexpected relish, though. I was born in 1972, right in the middle of the 1966–1980 demographic, so I guess that makes me kind of prime Gen X, and suddenly seeing photos of nineties icons everywhere felt oddly validating. I had already been wallowing in nineties nostalgia for a good year or two, listening to Sarah McLaughlin and Fiona Apple on repeat, when that piece came out. All the online wistfulness felt like someone was mining my dreams — dreams where I’m…