Let me first start by declaring: I am not a hater! I am simply someone who is constantly questioning my relationship with technology and observing trends in the market. And here, you’ll find my short stream (heavy on the stream) of thoughts about the obsession with wanting old technology, but choosing the new, trendy, aesthetic “retro” products instead.
I am someone who personally uses a heavy blend of new technology and old in my work and for play. My first introduction to film photography was through an Olympus analog camera I bought in Mexico City. I found an account that resold old cameras in good condition, snagged the number, texted, and hoped something could come from it. Maybe two days later, I was meeting a friendly guy underneath the Glorieta de los Insurgentes roundabout, where he, quite literally, opened the front of his jacket and passed me my new camera. Now that felt like a movie from the 80s.
I loved that experience. It was a little adventure, one that put me into the real world and had me on my toes! What did this man look like? Is this camera going to be the one I saw online? What is the energy like under this roundabout and near the subway line?
And this act of venturing out into the world is what I want more of in my shopping experiences. My good friend Carissa does this well. She creates time to go on these adventures, most of the time on foot, popping into stores and talking with people in the community. For her, shopping isn’t about convenience; it is about the path that leads her to the next purchase.
That very Olympus camera was taken on nearly every trip, even to the tops of several volcano hikes. I almost view it as a companion, helping me capture moments to talk about later, just as you would remember a moment with a friend or lover.



I then fixated on building a larger collection of analog cameras. This is when my grandma stepped in. If there is one person (other than my mother) who has kept everything in perfect condition their entire lives, it is she (and her late husband). When I told her about this new hobby, she introduced me to a few different film cameras that were my grandpa’s joy. Inside the nearly perfectly pristine original boxes, with the original owner’s manual printed on yellow paper from Japan, she took out the cameras and passed them on to me. Lenses, cases, the whole nine yards.

Since then, my love for “old” technology grew, but not because it was aesthetically pleasing (which it is, obviously), but because it makes me feel more human.
I loved wiping the dust off of my grandpa’s old CD player and playing his Anneliese Morissette and Avril Lavigne CD’s (yes, he loved a girly-pop).
I loved opening up his handheld camcorder to find a disc of my sister and me playing basketball when we were 8 and 9. And now using it to record my 20s.
I loved hearing my grandma’s stories of taking the Minolta to go mushroom hunting with my great grandma.
It is memory.





Now, I understand that not everyone has grandparents who even used these types of technology, let alone kept them in such great shape so that they were able to take on another life. And that is where the beauty of phsyical markets or eBay (if online is the only option for you), come into play. There are so many cameras, camcorders, CD players, etc. in the world that are ready to dance again. So why are we buying new “old” technology instead?
So let’s define, or rather, draw a picture as to what I am referring to.
In recent months, I have been seeing a few different projects that aim to recreate old styles of cameras or music devices, but to redesign them into a more aesthetically pleasing form. And of course, all housed under the intense Gen Z and Gen X branding that we are all very familiar with.
I have been observing what I think is an obsession with simply wanting to build brands versus a meaningful or innovative product/service. I personally think this is where the new “old” technology trend stems from, in part. And of course, the demand of younger crowds wanting to feel retro and analog (Yes, I just used ‘analog’ as a feeling lol.)
Take Reto Project for example. Their website copy reads:
Say hello to the good old days. Tribute to the 80s.
I guess I personally read this and wonder why we think we can no longer access truly well-crafted cameras from the 80s and the decades that followed. They are out there — I just don’t think people want to look, per se.
As I have been criticizing this space, or rather trend (?), I was also criticizing my own thoughts. If this is getting people to use physical media vs. looking at a screen all the time, is that so bad? What if people don’t live in a place where they can find quality retro cameras? Are authentic retro cameras too expensive? Maybe people don’t have enough time to hunt them down?
In my research, authentic analog cameras tend to be more affordable than some of these newer takes. Plus, you are most likely buying them from someone (maybe even locally) versus a company, which I think feels cool. I’d say if you cannot find enough time to hunt these cameras down in real life or on eBay / or other resale websites, in case you don’t live in a city that has storefronts or markets, then I wonder if you are the right target audience for these technologies. What happens when you have to go take your film to a local shop and wait for it to be processed? Or find a CD for your player? That takes time, too, ya know.
At the end of the day, I don’t think these companies are doing something terrible for the world… obviously, we have bigger fish to think about. I don’t think people are bad for purchasing them; I just get curious as to what the rationale is.
So it makes me wonder, are we clear on the objective? What about the journey to get these pieces of technology, versus just being concerned with the output? What if we valued the stories these old technologies and what they told us, with their scratches, dents, dust, or stories from their previous owners? What if we didn’t let consumerism push us to buy what we think is trendy and cool because they are using a cool logo or made a viral reel?

