“I want to dress up as the 90s.”
My 10-year-old daughter was telling me about Decades Day — part of her school’s homecoming week celebration. Students could dress in the fashions from any decade they chose, and she wanted to go as a kid from the 1990s.
While I was momentarily displeased to learn that a decade I spent a lot of time in was now an option for nostalgic dress up days, I was pretty excited to help her put an outfit together. The 90s are something I know about. And between the Timberland boots and the flannel shirt tied around the waist, her look was on point, if I do say so myself.
The Decades Day outfit was just one in a string of events that have had me thinking about the 90s lately. The Atlanta Braves were back in the World Series. There’s nothing more 1990s than that. The Braves advanced to the World Series five times that decade — but only won the 1995 series against the Cleveland Indians.
We were big Braves fans, and I think I watched every postseason appearance for the Atlanta ball club back then. My dad would let us stay up way past our school night bedtime to watch, although more times than not, nothing but heartbreak was in store.
My daughters had reminded me that I got to stay up late during the baseball postseason, and they wanted the same opportunity. I guess their “Big Daddy” told them to ask. They aren’t Braves fans — they root for the Cardinals like their dad — but they like staying up late, and this might have been my only opportunity to turn them. They tuned in with me every night. In fact, as I was writing this column, we were all piled on the couch watching the Braves blow an early 4-run lead. There’s a 90s experience, if there ever was one. It was a mixture of joy and relief to see them finally win it all again.
My 10-year-old recently completed the 4-H Chick Chain project. Beginning in June, she raised 12 baby chicks to (mostly) healthy pullets. The project culminated in a show and auction in October. That has nothing to do with the Atlanta Braves, but watching her care for her birds brought up a lot of memories from my own experiences raising 4-H chickens back in the 90s. Most of those memories involve my grandfather. He was my chicken adviser, coop builder and feed buyer. He also gave me the nickname “Chicken Woman” in the 90s and never stopped using it. He would have loved seeing my daughter continue the tradition.
I guess I’m sentimental, and I know nostalgia is coloring my memories, but sometimes it’s nice to imagine returning to a decade where none of us had ever heard of social media, smart phones, or glyphosate-resistant Palmer amaranth.
And where the Braves almost always made the World Series.