There’s nothing wrong with a thong made out of a keyboard

Retro-tech fashion is making a bold resurgence, with designers and celebrities embracing wearable technology from bygone eras. In December 2024, actress and style icon Julia Fox exemplified this trend, appearing publicly with a flip-phone buckle across her chest, wired adornments on her nails, and a repurposed Discman serving as a compact mirror attached to her wrist. This eye-catching ensemble highlighted the growing movement of incorporating vintage technology accessories into contemporary style.

While Fox’s appearance amplified the retro-tech fashion movement, she was not the originator. Public figures and online fashion enthusiasts had already begun adopting vintage iPod Shuffle Minis as hair ornaments and wired headphones as necklaces. However, Fox generated significant online buzz, showcasing the Y2K-inspired collaboration between French Canadian artist Gab Bois and Back Market, a marketplace for refurbished electronics. Her Instagram posts also subtly advocated for the Right to Repair movement, further connecting fashion with broader technological dialogues.

This fashion trend largely evokes digital nostalgia for the early days of the digital era – both in aesthetics and sentiment. Bois’s previous designs include fine jewelry crafted from sim cards, a camcorder clutch, and a Nintendo DS Lite makeup palette, consistently exploring this intersection of tech and style.

Bois reflects, “[Tech] was bulkier, slower, yet more tangible and appealing. There was also a sense of optimism. Everything felt like a preview of the future.” This sentimentality for older technology resonates with many.

Younger millennials and Gen Z, particularly online, appear to be longing for a perceived simpler era. Digicams from the mid-2000s have already experienced an unexpected cultural revival. Consequently, the transformation of obsolete gadgets into wearable items feels like a natural progression, repurposing devices beyond their original function.

As Bois observes, numerous sellers on platforms like Etsy are “subverting function for aesthetic purposes.” They are marketing Tamagotchi necklaces, converting circuit boards and microchips into earrings, and crocheting discarded floppy disks into handbags, demonstrating a wide embrace of upcycled tech fashion.

While dated hardware may present challenges in manipulation, Nicole McLaughlin, a New York-based designer, believes fashion intuitively accommodates upcycling old tech. Specifically, avant-garde fashion inherently challenges norms and redefines “wearable” concepts. This ethos invites experimentation: reimagining a headset as a bra, crafting a thong from a keyboard, or integrating a functional mini PC monitor from eBay into a platform shoe.

McLaughlin describes her creations as “fun” and “lighthearted,” noting her audience’s inclination to avoid excessive seriousness.

McLaughlin’s conceptual pieces, often unique and intended for online display rather than mass production, prioritize shifting perceptions around waste and sustainable design over practical application.

Myra Magdalen, another designer, shares similar perspectives. Drawn to the creative potential of discarded electronics, Magdalen sources vintage keyboards, TV remotes, flip phones, game controllers, and robot toys from thrift stores, aiming to prevent these objects from reaching landfills.

“Older tech simply possesses greater personality,” Magdalen asserts, referencing her history of viral, maximalist ensembles. In contrast to the sleekness of contemporary devices, older technology featured prominent buttons, smaller displays, and physical switches, characteristics now celebrated for their distinct aesthetic.

“For me, it’s an enjoyable challenge, a form of puzzle,” Magdalen elaborates. “It often begins with a concept, like ‘computer,’ and evolves into a head-to-toe styling exercise, interpreted in a way that reflects my personal style.”

Jake Olshan, founder of Drought, a streetwear label based in Los Angeles, designs pieces infused with nostalgia for his childhood — elements he believes resonate as shared memories for his generation. Rather than directly incorporating physical relics of the 2000s into garments, Olshan pays tribute through items like a Limewire pendant, a Napster handbag (officially endorsed by the company), and an oversized iPod Nano mirror.

“The core of the brand is about preserving a part of oneself,” Olshan explains. “As many individuals in my age group transition into adulthood, securing careers and homes, it’s about maintaining a connection to childhood and youth.”

Retro-tech fashion may not offer time travel, but it undeniably aims to recapture the essence of an era preceding the serious commercialization of technology and the internet. It’s a playful nod to a different digital age.