Most of us grew up rolling our eyes at everything our parents or their friends called “the good old days.” We grew up on the internet, saw a thousand trends come and go, and told ourselves we’d never become our parents.
But here we are, sneaking thrift store finds into our closets, writing letters by hand, and maybe—just maybe—realizing those boomer habits weren’t all bad. If you feel a quiet satisfaction putting needle to fabric or listening to a vinyl record on a rainy Sunday, you’re not alone.
Somehow, in a world that moves faster than our brains can process, these so-called outdated traditions feel like lifelines. They’re small rebellions against burnout, digital fatigue, and the kind of loneliness that only comes from constant connection.
So, let’s call it out: here are 17 boomer habits millennials are secretly reviving, with all the complexity, humor, and heart that comes with trying to make sense of our lives one analog moment at a time.
1. Vinyl Records and Turntables
There’s something about the scratchy sound of a vinyl record that hits different when you need to get out of your own head. You put on a record—maybe Fleetwood Mac, maybe Billie Eilish—and suddenly, your phone’s out of sight and you’re just here. It’s not the same as streaming; it’s slower, more intimate, and a little unpredictable.
I once caught myself cleaning to a whole album, realizing I hadn’t skipped a song or checked TikTok in an hour. That’s rare. Vinyl forces you to listen on its terms, not yours, and there’s comfort in that kind of surrender.
Fun fact: sales of vinyl records in the US actually surpassed CD sales for the first time in decades in 2020. It’s not just nostalgia. It’s a craving for something real, physical, and honest, even if the music cracks or pops now and then.
2. Home Gardening
Confession: I used to laugh at my mom’s obsession with her tomato plants. Now, I get it. Watching something grow because you cared for it—watering, pruning, soothing it back to life after a rough week—it’s grounding in the best way.
There’s a kind of magic in seeing green after a day of notifications and bad news cycles. The act of gardening is slow; you can’t rush basil. There’s always dirt under your nails, but somehow that feels like proof you were present.
Millennials aren’t just bringing back gardens for aesthetics. It’s about independence and sanity. You taste that first homegrown strawberry, and it’s like you finally understand why boomers spent whole weekends outside.
3. Handwritten Letters
Picture this: You get mail that isn’t a bill or a coupon. It’s a letter. Someone took the time to choose words, scribble them out, and send them your way. There’s weight to it—literal and emotional.
I started writing to my friend who moved across the country, and it changed how we talked. There’s no autocorrect, no undo button, just what you meant in that moment. Even the mistakes tell a story.
It’s not about being old-fashioned. It’s about craving something lasting. Maybe we’re just tired of disappearing texts and likes that mean nothing. A letter screams, “I was here, and I’m thinking of you.”
4. Thrift Shopping
Thrift shopping isn’t just a money hack—it’s a hunt. Every piece you dig up tells a story, whether it’s a wild ‘80s windbreaker or a mug with someone’s grandma’s name on it. There’s no algorithm deciding what you’ll find.
The thrill is real: you find things with a past, and maybe you give them a new chapter.
Boomers used to call it practical; we call it sustainable, unique, and a little rebellious. The best part is walking out with something no one else will have, and that’s its own kind of flex.
5. Board Games and Family Game Nights
Growing up, family game night sometimes meant forced fun. Now, it’s how I keep my friends close without forcing anyone to talk about work. You learn more from a heated game of Uno than a group chat ever taught you.
We’re reviving board games because we want memories that aren’t screenshots. The table gets loud, rules get bent, and someone always accuses someone else of cheating. That’s connection you can’t fast-forward through.
Game nights give a reason to show up in person. It’s messy, competitive, and full of inside jokes. Turns out, the best nights are the ones where nobody’s looking at their phone.
6. Cucinare da zero
I never thought I’d become someone who makes bread from scratch, but here we are. There’s something powerful about taking raw ingredients and turning them into dinner. It’s less about perfection, more about proving you can do hard things with your own hands.
Cooking like a boomer means getting messy, burning things sometimes, and celebrating small wins (like actually remembering to preheat the oven). It’s not about Instagrammable meals—though yes, I post them anyway.
You find yourself carrying on family recipes and making up your own. In a world of takeout apps, chopping onions can actually feel like a radical act of self-care.
7. Camping and Outdoor Adventures
Ever looked up at the stars from a sleeping bag and realized you didn’t miss your phone at all? Camping strips away the noise—literally. Out there, it’s just you, the trees, and your own thoughts.
There’s a feeling of capability in making your own shelter or finding your way with a paper map.
Boomers knew the value of unplugging. Millennials are chasing that same escape, looking for meaning and stillness in places WiFi can’t follow. That’s freedom you can’t fake.
8. Sewing and Mending Clothes
Ripping your jeans used to mean tossing them. Now, it’s a reason to pull out the needle and thread. There’s a gentle pride in fixing what you own—like you’re refusing to let go just because it’s easier.
My grandma taught me how to sew a button, and I honestly felt like a wizard the first time I did it myself. It’s stubbornly old-school, but useful. Mending is a quiet protest against fast fashion and throwaway culture.
From time to time, the patch becomes the best part of the jacket. Fixing things by hand isn’t just about clothes—at times it feels like you’re repairing a piece of yourself, stitch by stitch.
9. Analog Watches
Digital clocks are everywhere, but there’s a reason some of us still strap on a classic watch. Time feels different when you can feel it ticking against your wrist. There’s a ritual in winding it, checking it, and remembering to glance down instead of reaching for your phone.
My first analog watch was a hand-me-down, scratched and heavy, with a story built into every tiny dent. Wearing it felt like carrying a piece of someone else’s life.
Maybe it’s about style, maybe it’s nostalgia, but mostly it’s about noticing time instead of letting it disappear. Analog watches slow us down, even when the day runs fast.
10. Film Photography
Snap a photo on your phone—gone in a sea of selfies and memes. But film? You have to wait. You don’t get to see if you blinked or made a weird face, and that’s the point.
Shooting film made me care again about what I captured. Every shot costs something, so you pay attention. There’s a vulnerability in not knowing how it’ll turn out until weeks later.
Photos come back imperfect, grainy, sometimes magic. Each one feels like a memory you can hold, not just scroll past. Film is proof that occasionally, flaws are the best part.
11. Reading Physical Books
E-readers are convenient but can’t compete with the smell of paper and the heft of a hardcover in your hands. There’s something rebellious about turning actual pages and dog-earing a favorite chapter (although notorious book lovers would end me for doing this).
I always loved reading physical books. The act of flipping pages slowed me down in a good way. You notice details you’d skim past on a tablet.
Bookstores feel like temples, libraries a sanctuary. Every creased spine tells a story—of who you were when you last read it, and who you might become when you open it again.
12. Record-Keeping Journals and Diaries
Journals aren’t just for angsty teenagers. They’re time machines. I found an old diary from high school and cringed so hard I nearly threw it out. But reading it? I remembered things I thought I’d lost forever.
Now, journaling helps me untangle days that feel too heavy to hold in my head. Writing by hand is slower, but it’s honest. The pages don’t judge, and sometimes that’s enough.
Boomers tracked their lives this way for a reason. We’re bringing it back, one messy page at a time—because memory fades, but ink is stubborn.
13. Landline Phones
Landlines used to be the only way to call home. Now, they’re a weirdly charming throwback. There’s a comfort in the ring, the cord tangling around your fingers, the impossibility of multitasking while you talk.
When my friend got a landline for her apartment, we joked about being stuck in the 90s. But she said calls felt more real—like you couldn’t just hang up and disappear. You had to actually talk, listen, stay present.
Maybe we’re nostalgic, or maybe we’re just tired of texting. Either way, picking up a landline feels a little like reclaiming a lost part of ourselves.
14. Hosting Dinner Parties
There’s power in gathering people around a table, even if half the chairs are mismatched. Hosting a dinner party is equal parts chaos and magic—burnt edges, spilled wine, too-loud laughter echoing off the walls.
I used to think dinner parties were only for grownups or people with perfect apartments. Turns out, it’s really about showing up for each other, feeding whoever walks through the door, and letting the night unfold.
Boomers did this because it built community. We’re keeping it alive because it keeps us sane. Plus, nobody remembers the food as much as the feeling of belonging.
15. Using Cash and Coin Jars
Swipe, tap, done. Money disappears fast when it’s just numbers on a screen. But cash? You feel every dollar as it changes hands. Dropping coins in a jar becomes a ritual, not just a habit.
I started saving spare change for a trip, and watching the jar fill up felt more satisfying than any budgeting app. Counting bills makes spending real. There’s pride in seeing your effort add up, slow but steady.
Boomers taught us to respect what we earn. Millennials keep coins and cash because it’s tangible proof we worked for something—and that feeling can’t be digitized.
16. Handmade Crafts and DIY Projects
You ever get tired of everything looking the same? That’s why I started making things—badly, at first. Handmade crafts are about the process, not the outcome. You laugh at your mistakes, keep going, and end up with something no one else has.
My shelves are lined with lopsided mugs and uneven candles, but I wouldn’t trade them for mass-produced anything. Making things anchors you in the present. Your hands move, your mind quiets.
Boomers called it a hobby; we call it sanity. DIY isn’t about perfection—it’s a reminder that creativity is messy, personal, and worth celebrating.
17. Listening to the Radio
Oh, tuning into the radio instead of scrolling through endless playlists is like rollercoster. You don’t know what’s coming next. The randomness feels old-school and weirdly intimate—like someone else is curating your mood.
I listen to the radio on Sunday mornings when the world feels too loud. The DJ’s voice, the ads for local diners, the songs you forgot you loved—it’s all imperfect but real.
Radio brings back the feeling of surprise. It’s not just background noise; it’s a reminder that sometimes, the best moments are unplanned and out of your control.