My sister and I, aged 9 and 6 respectively, were sitting in the car waiting for our father to grab a couple of things from the supermarket. My sister pointed at a girl sitting on a bench outside the store playing with a Tamagotchi. I’d never heard of it. My sister described it to me, and I liked the idea a lot. It sounded like this thing would be my friend, and I didn’t have a lot of those.
“Tell mum and dad to get you one!” I remember this phrasing, because it made me uncomfortable to even think of telling my parents to do anything for me. It bothered me that she felt it was acceptable to demand things like this. I did ask my father though, and he heaved a sigh before relenting. He’d bought one for one of his children, so he knew he couldn’t deny the other one. Maybe that’s why my sister thought I was in a strong position to be demanding.
At the toy shop, my father asked the store clerk for a Tamagotchi in a defeated and despairing way. “Oh yeah they all want those bloody things now, don’t they?” I can’t remember the exact quote, but I remember the two grown-ups agreeing that these Tamagotchi things are stupid and annoying. It was very clear that I was pushing my father into doing something he didn’t want to do, and enduring something he found bothersome in the future. I stood there in shame as he paid for the thing I was now pretty sure I didn’t want.
In my bedroom that evening, I pulled out the little tab that isolated the battery, and the Tamagotchi sprung to life. It didn’t feel like a friend at all. It felt like a dirty little secret. I played with it for a few minutes, but I just felt so guilty. By the next time I picked it up, the battery was almost dead. I wished so much that I had never asked for that thing.
I don’t think I experience 90s nostalgia in the same way as the majority of my peers. I remember the feel of the 90s, but all of these little toys and gadgets were things my parents despised, and either refused to have in the house, or begrudgingly allowed in very small doses while making their contempt for them very clear. Maybe that was for the best in a lot of ways, but it boxed me out of the 90s childhood that many seem to remember very fondly.
Lots of us raised in the 80s and 90s are riding the trauma wave of parents who were raised by people who lived through the depression and a world war or two.
You are not allowed to want things. You are not worth it. Everyone else is though.
You’re not alone. My parents regularly determined that anything trendy was clearly an invention of Satan sent to bring children directly to demon-worship. My only experience with one of these was like many of my experiences with technology growing up — the only child across the street with the “rich” parents had one, and he asked me to watch it over a weekend when he was on vacation somewhere.
It was never fun to me. It was a beeping obligation.
Did you find that socially isolating at all? On one hand, and probably more a thought from my adult brain than something I would have agreed with back then, one doesn’t want friendships that are predicated on such things. On the other hand, it sure looked like they were having a lot of fun playing Pokémon, whereas I didn’t know the first thing about it. It would have been an easy thing to use as common ground.
Watching your friend’s Tamagotchi while they’re away sounds almost humiliating though.
I didn’t get a lot of what people were talking about for awhile, but mostly it just got me to hide things from my parents from a young age and make my own money so I didn’t have to ask them for things…an attitude that of course created its own problems.
As for the tamagotchi-watching, I could see that feeling humiliating. At the time I think I just felt trusted. Sort of like when the other neighbors would ask me to watch their cat while they were gone. That kid’s parents never did end up ever letting him have a living pet ¯_(ツ)_/¯
My sister and I, aged 9 and 6 respectively, were sitting in the car waiting for our father to grab a couple of things from the supermarket. My sister pointed at a girl sitting on a bench outside the store playing with a Tamagotchi. I’d never heard of it. My sister described it to me, and I liked the idea a lot. It sounded like this thing would be my friend, and I didn’t have a lot of those.
“Tell mum and dad to get you one!” I remember this phrasing, because it made me uncomfortable to even think of telling my parents to do anything for me. It bothered me that she felt it was acceptable to demand things like this. I did ask my father though, and he heaved a sigh before relenting. He’d bought one for one of his children, so he knew he couldn’t deny the other one. Maybe that’s why my sister thought I was in a strong position to be demanding.
At the toy shop, my father asked the store clerk for a Tamagotchi in a defeated and despairing way. “Oh yeah they all want those bloody things now, don’t they?” I can’t remember the exact quote, but I remember the two grown-ups agreeing that these Tamagotchi things are stupid and annoying. It was very clear that I was pushing my father into doing something he didn’t want to do, and enduring something he found bothersome in the future. I stood there in shame as he paid for the thing I was now pretty sure I didn’t want.
In my bedroom that evening, I pulled out the little tab that isolated the battery, and the Tamagotchi sprung to life. It didn’t feel like a friend at all. It felt like a dirty little secret. I played with it for a few minutes, but I just felt so guilty. By the next time I picked it up, the battery was almost dead. I wished so much that I had never asked for that thing.
I don’t think I experience 90s nostalgia in the same way as the majority of my peers. I remember the feel of the 90s, but all of these little toys and gadgets were things my parents despised, and either refused to have in the house, or begrudgingly allowed in very small doses while making their contempt for them very clear. Maybe that was for the best in a lot of ways, but it boxed me out of the 90s childhood that many seem to remember very fondly.
Lots of us raised in the 80s and 90s are riding the trauma wave of parents who were raised by people who lived through the depression and a world war or two.
You are not allowed to want things. You are not worth it. Everyone else is though.
Sound familiar?
One hundred percent. Jesus, generational trauma is a bitch.
You’re not alone. My parents regularly determined that anything trendy was clearly an invention of Satan sent to bring children directly to demon-worship. My only experience with one of these was like many of my experiences with technology growing up — the only child across the street with the “rich” parents had one, and he asked me to watch it over a weekend when he was on vacation somewhere.
It was never fun to me. It was a beeping obligation.
Did you find that socially isolating at all? On one hand, and probably more a thought from my adult brain than something I would have agreed with back then, one doesn’t want friendships that are predicated on such things. On the other hand, it sure looked like they were having a lot of fun playing Pokémon, whereas I didn’t know the first thing about it. It would have been an easy thing to use as common ground.
Watching your friend’s Tamagotchi while they’re away sounds almost humiliating though.
I didn’t get a lot of what people were talking about for awhile, but mostly it just got me to hide things from my parents from a young age and make my own money so I didn’t have to ask them for things…an attitude that of course created its own problems.
As for the tamagotchi-watching, I could see that feeling humiliating. At the time I think I just felt trusted. Sort of like when the other neighbors would ask me to watch their cat while they were gone. That kid’s parents never did end up ever letting him have a living pet ¯_(ツ)_/¯