REWIND Worthy
A Life in Rewind, Replay, and Realness.
Before Streaming, Scrolling, And Skipping — We LIVED Life Like A Mixtape: On INSTINCT.
Gen X isn’t a single soundtrack — it’s a whole collection of Side As and Side Bs. Some of us were teens in the thick of the ‘80s, rewinding tapes in our bedrooms and dancing in nightclubs before the internet had a name. Others were still riding bikes at sunset, making friendship bracelets, and growing up just in time for the rise of grunge, girl power, and the late-night music video marathon. We came of age in different ways, at different times — but we all felt it.
We took photos and waited for the pics to get developed – then we meticulously arranged them in albums. We collected albums like we collected mix tapes – and we knew what every single one meant.
Because no matter when you were born in that 1965–1980 window, you didn’t just live the culture…you recorded it. And it’s still playing.
Long live the mixtape of life. Let’s go on a trip down memory lane…
“When I started writing this, I realised the mixtape isn’t just a memory — it’s a metaphor for Gen X life. We recorded things as they happened, rewound the bits we didn’t quite get, and somehow made chaos feel special, regardless of how simple it was. It wasn’t always pretty, but it was ours.”
founder of maison 1973, Nic Tierney
Life Was SIMPLE And We Loved It
It’s the late 80’s. Your knees are grazed from riding bikes without helmets, your hair smells like Impulse Illusions, and your fingers are covered in melted Paddle Pop. You’re lying on your bedroom floor, rewinding a cassette with a pencil and willing your older sibling to stay off the phone so you can tape the top 10 off the radio.
Sound familiar? Haha, that’s cause it was our life – our simple, chaotic, crazy Gen X life.
Welcome to the wild, weird, and wonderful world of growing up Gen X — whether you were dancing at a uni bar or decorating your locker. We all grew up in this special era that only we know all about.
When phones were attached to walls and they had cords and could be left at home. The original ‘do not disturb’ was simply just leaving it off the hook.
Cars had no air conditioning – just big windows with hard as hell handles to turn. We drove stick shift, grinding gears and reverse parking like a boss. Nothing was complicated, it was a time that things were built for use. They were necessary and they were useful.
Playing handball on the road after school, jumping on the trampoline without safety rails or nets.
This wasn’t just a childhood. It was a mixtape. Recorded in real time. Messy. Curated. Emotional. Full of skips, edits, and songs that made no sense — until they did.
It was a time of just being yourself and the only thing we were obsessed with recording was music. Not ourselves, no selfies, no idea of what else was going on around us except what was happening in our neighbourhoods, in our friendship groups.
The Soundtrack of US
Depending on where you grew up, your soundtrack had its own flavour:
In Australia, we had Countdown, Rage, Recovery, and the unforgettable Triple J Hottest 100. We knew the pub-rock glory of Cold Chisel and the dream-pop drama of Icehouse. INXS felt like global royalty — but ours.
In New Zealand, we tuned into RTR Countdown and the magic of Radio With Pictures. Dave Dobbyn, Crowded House, and Shona Laing weren’t just names — they were national treasure status.
In the UK, it was Top of the Pops, John Peel, Smash Hits, and the explosion of Britpop. We danced in our bedrooms to Bananarama, The Human League, and later, Blur and Oasis, long before the headlines caught up.
In the US, it was MTV’s golden age — TRL, Yo! MTV Raps, 120 Minutes. Grunge was rising from the garage, hip hop was taking shape, and girl groups like En Vogue were giving us harmony and power.
And no matter where you were — we all remember hitting ‘record’ and praying no one spoke over the intro.
Our music wasn’t algorithm-fed. It was handed to us by friends, posters, rage clips, and gut instinct. We stood in record stores debating between Alanis and The Cure. We slow-danced to Roxette and lost our minds at Big Day Out. We screamed lyrics from the backseat with the windows down.
We felt every word.
The MIXTAPE As A Metaphor
We weren’t a playlist. We were a mixtape.
Side A was the ambition, the firsts, the fire in us.
Side B was the softness, the reinvention, the stuff we got emotional to and told no one about.
Some chapters we fast-forwarded through. Others we wore out from replaying.
There were hidden tracks — the unspoken parts of growing up. There were unplanned overdubs — the noise we didn’t mean to record but still lives in the background.
Some things were taped over. Some stayed scratched, imperfect, real.
And yet, we kept recording and listening.
Every mixtape told a story in biro and smudges. So did we. They were so sacred to us.
Screens That SHAPED Us
Then there were the movies and TV – a rite of passage.
We grew up with The Breakfast Club, Reality Bites, My So-Called Life, and Muriel’s Wedding. We saw ourselves in awkward teens, chaotic women, and girls who were a bit too much (but in the best way).
There was the all time release of Dirty Dancing and our obsession with Patrick Swayze began. Going to the drive in to watch a movie. Buying actual tickets to things. Keeping them as souvenirs.
Kirk Cameron and Growing Pains, the original crushes – Michael J Fox, John Stamos, River Phoenix, Rob Lowe, Kurt Cobain, Axl Rose – the list was endless.
Friday nights meant lining up at Video Ezy or Civic Video. You knew exactly what aisle Empire Records lived in and you always tried to get the last of the new releases – only to be disappointed as they were all gone. You rewound the tape out of respect – and you tried to get it back on time to avoid the fine (oh those fines lol).
We memorised lines like scripture:
“How do you like them apples?”
(Good Will Hunting, 1997)
We didn’t stream. We stayed up to watch it and feel it happen in real time. We didn’t scroll. We rewound and replayed. Over and over.
And that’s the difference. We just kept living in the moment of life. We weren’t too bothered about anything else. Gosh, how incredible.
“Writing this has been such a joy. The list of nuances and memories has been endless. I could keep writing for days and still not capture it all. This is just the tip of the iceberg as a Gen X growing up. This will be the first of many mix tape moments”
THE Feels
We didn’t have Pinterest. We had glue sticks and magazine tear-outs. We decorated diaries with Lisa Frank stickers and wrote our crushes’ names in glitter pen. We shopped at Granny Mays, collected erasers and scratch and sniff stickers.
We made friendship bracelets and mood boards. We roller-skated in bubble skirts, wore cinch belts with Supre singlets, and proudly spritzed ‘CK One‘ before heading out.
Our icons weren’t influencers. They were Kate Moss, Elle Macpherson, Linda, Christy, Naomi, Madonna, Pat Benatar, Whitney Houston, Belinda Carlisle, Tina Turner — untouchable and magnetic. They weren’t selling to us. They were just being. And we watched, and we learned. We poured through magazines just to see the latest in their lives.
We played Snake on Nokia phones. We sat on the grass waiting for the Mr Whippy van to play its jingle. We had to be home to catch our favourite show. If you were lucky you had a VHS – if not, too bad. You missed it and you had to wait for next week.
And the food?
Apricot chicken. Devilled sausages. Party pies.
BBQ Shapes and Toobs
Zooper Doopers and Sunnyboys
Milo piled four spoons deep in a mug
Cheese and lettuce sandwiches
The list is endless. So good. So good in fact, we’ll dedicate a whole other blog to it at another time.
Why It Still LIVES In Us
We may live in a digital world now, but our hearts beat analog.
We remember because these moments weren’t just trends. They were imprints. They taught us rhythm, rebellion, expression, release. We loved every angst ridden moment of it all.
That’s why certain songs still hit. That’s why certain films still feel like home. That’s why we get goosebumps when the Mr Whippy music plays or Smells Like Teen Spirit starts when you’re stuck in traffic. It’s instinctual to get those windows down and turn that music up full blast. We feel it in our core. It never, ever leaves us. Nor do we want it to.
We’re not stuck in the past. We just know a good memory is like a great song — it grows with you.
And like any good mixtape — we’re still curating. Still evolving. Still adding tracks.
“I grew up rewinding tapes with pencils, eating BBQ Shapes after school, talking on the phone in the kitchen and figuring things out without Google or group chats. It was chaotic, unfiltered, kind of magic — and somehow, we all just made it work. Gen X didn’t just live through it. We recorded it, our way.”
maison 1973 founder, Nic Tierney.
The Maison 1973 Takeaway:
For the rhythm, the memory, and the woman you still are.