Being gifted a Sony Walkman in 1986 changed my father’s life. He was 12 years old and suddenly able to access any song at any time. To this day, he still listens to the Wu-Tang Clan on his (albeit more modern) Walkman. He sits across from me as I write, telling me about the mixtape he made for my mother in the early 90s.
30 years after his gesture, I decided to make a spotify playlist for my boyfriend. She Bangs the Drums, Crimson & Clover, Just Like Heaven – fantastic love songs that, given their age, could have been on my father’s mixtape. Yet, people don’t send each other Spotify playlists in the same way that my mother received her mixtape. Sure, tapes and CDs still exist, but technology has come such a long way since the 90s that simpler, quicker methods take precedence.
Do you remember when email was the main method of communication? I can recall there being an option in The Sims 3 to send a ‘love email’ on the (now retro) computer. Gone were the days of the love letter, penned so earnestly by the enamoured and sometimes even sprayed with aphrodisiac perfume. Maybe it’s romantic, the speed with which we can profess our love. Yet, the irony lies in the incompatibility of machinery and human feeling. It’s easier than ever to find love – or a hookup – via social media, but can we say that every interaction is as romantic as The Notebook?
38% of women have personally experienced online harassment, including but not limited to: stalking, upskirting, revenge porn, deepfakes, and rape threats. Ask yourself and the women in your life: how many times have they received unsolicited nudes? Or creepy Instagram message requests? A culture of objectification is nothing new, but the ease at which it can be perpetuated is alarming. Romanticising the past is not my aim. Before the invention of the pill, the legalisation of abortion, and increased access to divorce, what did marriage mean for women except submission to a man? My description of love letters above is admittedly rose-tinted, partly mourning physical media. The unpleasant reality of dating for women – often forceful, exploitative relationships – is troubling for anyone.
Part of the appeal of mixtapes and love letters in the modern day may be a result of this. Nostalgia, however, also has much to answer for. The juxtaposition between a fleeting internet culture and the tedious curation of a mixtape is almost the definition of romantic. Likewise, I doubt that a futuristic moral panic about AI and the future of dating holds any ground. The human condition is simply too rich and tender to lose the fundamental desire for connection – even if it’s via Spotify Blend.
love it love u