People posing in Adidas Superstars, filming Musical.ly videos in 2x speed, and balancing fidget spinners on their noses aren’t sights you see much anymore.

Which makes sense – considering all three are reminiscent of the year 2016. But for some high schoolers, the past is back.

According to BBC, TikTok reported that searches for “2016” went up by 452% in January, and over 55 million videos were created using the app’s filter inspired by the year – mimicking the colorful tints and grainy camera quality. 

But is 2026 really the new 2016? What is so special about that year? Why are we choosing to live in the past?

Let’s break down the era’s appeal — from LeBron James leading the Cavaliers to the NBA Championship to the Snapchat Puppy Dog filter fad — and why it’s as vibrant as ever a decade later. 

When Nothing Needed Explaining

Observers often note that one of the main reasons people look back on 2016 so fondly is the sense that things felt simpler. Whether on social media or in everyday life, there was less pressure to curate every moment. 

People were playful, and “cringe” wasn’t something to avoid — it was part of the culture. Entire platforms thrived on it, including Vine. Although it officially shut down in 2017, clips like “Look at all those chickens!” and “Stop, I could’ve dropped my croissant!” circulated endlessly online, embraced for their randomness rather than their polish. 

“There wasn’t so much pressure,” Camrie Farran, 25, told the New York Times. “You didn’t feel like all eyes of the world were watching you. You could just post whatever you wanted. You didn’t care about the likes.”

“We definitely used social media, but it was more so following people you know or famous people or a few meme accounts, but now I feel like everyone is always seeing the same content on the For You Page or the Explore page, so the whole world is in on the same trends and things,” said Sally Buck, an alum from the class of 2020. “The world didn’t exactly feel simpler, but maybe smaller.”

Unlike today, many popular trends weren’t tied to identity politics or deeper cultural discourse. They were simply… silly. The “Mannequin Challenge” had people freezing mid-action to the song Black Beatles. Teens made slime out of glue and food dye and pillaged stores for squishies – memory foam toys covered in bright, cartoonish designs. And few conversations ended without somebody “dabbing” out of random. 

At first glance, these trends may seem random and unrelated, but that’s exactly the point. Trends didn’t carry the same weight, self-awareness, or satire they often do today. Instead, they were purely fun, fleeting, and nonsensical.  

Peak Pop Culture Moment

Music defined much of 2016. The year was like a cultural crossroads, with major releases spanning pop, rap, rock, country, and alternative. For many listeners, it marked a high point in both mainstream and critically acclaimed music.

Beyond those releases, 2016 produced an unusually strong lineup of albums across genres. Rihanna released Anti. Frank Ocean dropped Blonde. Drake delivered Views, while Beyoncé released the widely discussed Lemonade. Other notable projects included A Moon Shaped Pool by Radiohead, Starboy by The Weeknd, The Life of Pablo by Kanye West, Hero by Maren Morris, and I Like It When You Sleep, for You Are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware of It by The 1975.

Together, these releases helped shape the soundtrack of the year, and, for many, cemented 2016 as a defining cultural moment.

“I still listen to music from that era so much without even thinking about it, but my favorite song for this trend in particular is ‘Come On’ by Kesha,” junior Sienna Bailey commented. “The songs from then were just so much better and I’m really happy about this trend because I get to listen to them more.”

Beyond the music, 2016 fashion was unmistakable. The year had a cohesive look that was both recognizable and easy to replicate. Seventeen Magazine highlights staples like ripped “mom” jeans, slim-fit joggers, bomber jackets, chokers, baseball caps, pins and patches, and an abundance of velvet. 

Together, these pieces contributed to an aesthetic that defined the moment. When a time period has such a distinct visual identity, it’s easier to recall, therefore easier to revive. 

“It is a glaringly obvious pivot point of culture, economics, media, art, politics, everything,” commented another Reddit user, @kingjaffejaffar. “Stark ‘hinge’ moments like that typically only occur once every decade.” 

Nostalgia as a Catalyst

However, there may be a deeper reason behind this urge to rewind.

“Does nobody remember how everyone was saying 2016 was the worst year when it was here?” Reddit user @Ktig88 wrote. “In 2030, are people going to be nostalgic for 2020?”

The comment raises an important question: are we reviving 2016 because of the year itself, or because of who we were at the time?

“I definitely think people are over-romanticizing it, I just can’t exactly figure out why,” said Adelaide Randall, an alum from the class of 2020. 

Another alum from the class of 2020, Carson Keller, offered a possible explanation: “It was when I was growing up but didn’t have the real pressures I have now like work, rent, and other stuff. It was a transition phase, but in the best way, and that’s why it stands out as such a good memory.” 

For many, 2016 now exists in memory as “before everything accelerated.” Upper School psychologist Mrs. Ashley Le Grange suggests that perception may be shaped more by hindsight than reality, and that the nostalgia surrounding this trend is a normal way of coping with the demands of growing up and becoming more independent.

“I think 2016 feels simpler because although they were on the cusp, so many stressors in the world had not happened, like the pandemic and increased polarization between people,” she said. “I don’t think it was necessarily simpler, but in hindsight, when the brain reflects on it, it probably does have more of a sense of safety.”

For current Upper School students, who were at most nine years old then, it likely represents a transitional age of innocence: first independence, first crushes, and for some, first exposure to social media.

“I was in like second grade, and I wasn’t allowed to have social media or anything,” Bailey shared. “But I had siblings who were in high school then, and I remember being obsessed with their friends and the older kids. I would always ask my brother’s girlfriend to let me use the Snapchat filters on her phone.”

Another Reddit user, @Mr_A_UserName, offered a more grounded perspective: 

“The ‘2016 was peak’ stuff is literally the epitome of ‘things weren’t any better, you were a kid.’ The seeds for a lot of issues we’ve seen over the last five years were sown in the mid-2010s, but as children, they wouldn’t have been as affected or concerned about them.”

So, to return to that previous central question, perhaps the appeal of 2016 may be reflective of ourselves from then, and not as much the era itself.