It might start with a cassette deck that streams Spotify and charges your phone. It doesn’t have to stop there.
These days, yesterday is big business.
A retro revival is underway in the design world: mushroom-shaped lamps, walnut stereo consoles, daisy dishware, neon Polaroid cameras. It’s like our homes just hustled over from “One Day at a Time” or “That ‘70s Show” or moonwalked in from “Thriller”-era 1982.
Welcome to the retro reset, where ‘70s, ’80s and ‘90s aesthetics are getting a second life. It’s not just in fashion and film but in home décor and tech. Whether you actually lived through it or long for a past you never experienced, nostalgia is fueling a surge of interest from Gen X to Gen Z in throwback styles that blend vintage charm with modern convenience.
Old-school tech, new-school tricks
1980s-inspired designs by Livette’s Wallpaper. (Tony Favarula/NeoCon 2025 via AP)
A big part of the trend is tech that looks analog but functions digitally. Think portable CD players in the kind of candy colors popular at Radio Shack in the 1970s, AM/FM radios equipped with USB outputs, or turntables with Bluetooth amplification to wireless speakers. Compact radios styled after 1970s transistor models now double as smart speakers.
There’s even a growing market for clunky-but-charming mini cathode-ray-style TVs — and boomboxes with streaming capability. It’s as if the Carter, Reagan and Clinton eras have collided with the latest of the digital age.
What draws us? Some of it is the tactile appeal of dials and buttons — of interacting with something that feels solid, more “real.”
In a room, these elements aren’t just nods to the past. They’re also aesthetic statements that add way more character than a giant, flat, black screen, or a “smart” sound system you can’t even see. Stereo consoles in a woodgrain finish or a pastel-colored lacquer offer not only music but a nice furniture addition to a space. (Though who knows: Will those minimalist black screens be ”retro” one day for our children and grandchildren?)
“Whether it’s turntables, cassette players, speakers or musical instruments, there’s definitely a fascination among younger audiences with analog technology and how things worked before the digital age,” says Emmanuel Plat, merchandising director for MoMAstore, the design shop at New York’s Museum of Modern Art.
The store has Tivoli’s Model One table radio, with a throwback-style, wood-grain frame, circle speaker grill and knobs, but 2025’s sound quality and connectivity. They’re also stocking pocket synthesizers, Bluetooth turntables, and “Peanuts”-themed Polaroid cameras and cassette players.
Who’s into it — and why
Gen Z is seeing it all with fresh eyes, and enjoying the hunt for vintage or vintage-look stuff. Millennials and Gen X may enjoy reliving their childhood aesthetics.
And that can be comforting in today’s stressed world, says Joseph Sgambatti, 37, a design journalist in New York City.
“Nostalgia-driven design choices become comforts that help us cope,” he says.
There’s also an ironic, social-media component to the trend.
“Midcentury modern and retro design objects are simple, often show-stopping artifacts,” Sgambatti says. “These finds carry a lot of social currency in a generation that prioritizes publishing their life online.”
Style trends do tend to arrive in cycles — think “Happy Days” portraying the 1950s for the 1970s, or the current Gen-Z crush on Y2K fashion. Plus, a steady diet of nostalgia-rich media from “Stranger Things” to “Barbie” has reintroduced retro design to younger audiences.
But there’s also an emotional component. After years of digital overload and pandemic-era disruptions, we’re gravitating toward styles that feel warmer, softer — more human, even.
Colors that carry meaning
If you walk by the E.C. Reems Academy, an elementary school in Oakland, California, or Houston’s Children’s Assessment Center, you can’t miss the vibrant graphic murals done by Berkeley-based Project Color Corps. The group, which helps transform libraries, schools and other community spaces with eye-catching wall art, often uses graphics, typefaces and an overall palette with a ’70s and ’80s vibe.
In the 1970s, “we sought solace in warm, earthy tones that symbolized grounding and stability. Browns, oranges, olive greens and deep yellows dominated the aesthetic landscape, reflecting the growing Earth movement,” says Laura Guido-Clark, who founded the nonprofit.
It was a different aesthetic in the ‘80s — one dripping with materialism, consumerism, the emergence of ‘“yuppie” culture, says Guido-Clark. “Neon colors, bold patterns and vibrant fashion choices.”
And there’s affection for that, too.
Her group recently worked with the design firm Gensler on a lounge space at Chicago’s NeoCon trade fair for commercial interior design. The space featured retro-flavored colors and motifs.
Gensler’s design director, Marianne Starke, says the colors draw viewers into a sensory experience that might be rooted in memory: “A popsicle on a ‘90s summer day, an ’80s striped T-shirt, a rollerskating rink in the ‘70s.”
Furniture with curves and confidence
In furniture, the revival of those slightly distant decades leans toward soft silhouettes, rounded edges and a low-slung vibe. Arched bookshelves, bubble chairs, Lucite tables and terrazzo finishes have all reentered the conversation. Wallpaper and textile patterns feature bold geometrics, Memphis-style squiggles and Pop-Artsy botanicals.
It’s a deliberate swing away from the chilly gray-on-white-on-gray look that farmhouse modern décor gave us for the past couple of decades.
In the process, eras get conflated. Who’s to say whether an inspiration or design comes precisely from the ‘70s, the ’80s or the ‘90s — or contains elements of all three?
Designers are even revisiting some once-controversial elements of the disco era: Smoked glass, chrome accents and mirrored surfaces are making subtle (not a word often used in connection with the 1970s) comebacks in upscale interiors and product lines.
Whether it’s a lava lamp grooving on a media console, daisies and doves dancing on wallpaper, or a sofa rocking a bunch of ruffly chintz pillows, the retro revival feels less like a gimmick and more like a shift in how people want to live — integrating elements of the past that offer comfort and delight.
As long as those cassette players keep syncing to Bluetooth and we can stream “Annie Hall,” “Saturday Night Fever” or “Miami Vice,” the past, it seems, is here to stay — at least until our own moment inevitably becomes a nostalgia play in itself.