I didn’t set out to write a novel drenched in nostalgia. But somehow, the neon glow of the 80s and the raw grit of the 90s bled into the pages of Morals in the Margin before I even knew what was happening. Maybe it was inevitable. These decades shaped the way we see rebellion, loneliness, and self-discovery. As I pieced together this story of blurred memories, underground parties, and fleeting moments of belonging, I realized I wasn’t just writing about my characters—I was writing about the echoes of a cultural era that still refuses to fade.
Why Do We Keep Returning to the 80s and 90s?
Think about it. Almost every modern story with a sense of mystery or nostalgia carries some thread of the 80s or 90s. Stranger Things taps into our love for synth-heavy soundtracks and arcade games. Euphoria dresses its characters in vintage tees and baggy jeans straight out of 1995. Even music today—The Weeknd, Dua Lipa, and countless indie artists—borrows from the unmistakable sound of the past. But why? Why do we still cling to these eras as if they hold the key to something we’ve lost?
I think it’s because the 80s and 90s existed in a strange, beautiful limbo—advanced enough to create unforgettable music, movies, and fashion, but just untouched by the digital over-saturation we live in now. It was a time when subcultures thrived, when discovering new music meant digging through records or waiting for your favorite song to play on the radio. There was a mystery in the every day, a thrill in the unknown. And that’s what makes it the perfect backdrop for a story like Morals in the Margin.
Nostalgia as a Character in the Story
In Morals in the Margin, you’ll find pieces of these decades woven into the atmosphere. The characters don’t just exist in a world shaped by nostalgia—they live it. Nolan and Sebastian bond over old records, flipping through vinyl sleeves like they hold some sacred truth. The underground party at the abandoned mall could have easily been a scene from The Crow—dark, chaotic, pulsing with life. Even the way the city swallows people whole, turning them into ghosts in their own lives, feels like something straight out of a grunge music video.
But nostalgia isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s about feeling. The characters in the book are haunted by their pasts, much like we are haunted by the decades that made us. Nostalgia can be comforting, but it can also be a trap. We romanticize the past because it feels safe, forgetting that even then, people felt just as lost as we do now. That’s what Morals in the Margin tries to capture—that lingering ache of looking back, searching for something just out of reach.
The Timelessness of These Eras
So, why are we still obsessed with the 80s and 90s? Maybe it’s because they represent the last breath of the analog world before everything became digital, before every moment was documented and dissected online. Maybe it’s because those decades knew how to make loneliness look cool. Or maybe it’s because, deep down, we all just want to get lost in the music, the movies, the stories—just for a little while longer.
And if Morals in the Margin does anything, I hope it lets you step into that feeling—just for a moment. Because sometimes, the past is the only place that makes sense.
