In a world where scrolling has become a routine and every notification feels like a vital life sign, a peculiar new trend has emerged. Millennials—once known as digital natives—are now willingly paying hefty sums to step back into a pre-internet era, embracing what they call ‘luxury digital detox retreats.’ These retreats promise a taste of the 1990s, with a side of mild panic attacks, analog clocks, and endless group therapy sessions centered around the trauma of not checking social media. It’s an ironic twist: in their quest to escape the digital overload, today’s tech-savvy millennials are shelling out thousands to live like it’s 1995, and the results are as absurd as they are amusing.
Millennials Shell Out Thousands to Revisit the 1990s Digital Darkness
Gone are the days of endless TikTok scrolls and instant Instagram likes; now, it’s all about embracing the “simpler” life—by paying up to $5,000 a week to forget what a smartphone looks like. These luxury retreats have become the new playground for influencers seeking ‘authentic’ experiences (read: a break from their online personas). Guests arrive decked out in vintage flannel shirts and cargo pants, ready to relive a time when “going offline” involved a lot more than just shutting down their apps. Once inside, they find themselves in rooms decorated with rotary phones and VHS tapes, which, unsurprisingly, doesn’t always sit well with the digital-diving crowd.
The real challenge is the complete lack of connectivity—no Wi-Fi, no social media, and, horror of horrors, no instant messaging. Many attendees have confessed to experiencing mild to severe anxiety attacks when faced with analog clocks instead of digital displays. One attendee remarked, “I almost broke down when I saw a clock with hands. I didn’t know what time it was, and honestly, it was terrifying.” These retreats have turned into bizarre social experiments, where the main activity is a kind of collective re-traumatization over the absence of notifications. Yet, despite the discomfort, some participants claim they’re “rediscovering their true selves,” all while documenting their journey in carefully curated, pre-filmed Instagram stories—proof that even in the dark ages, millennials can’t resist a good photo op.
Luxury Retreats: When Going Offline Means Panicking Over Analog Clocks
One retreat famously banned all modern gadgets—yet found itself in hot water when guests rioted upon discovering there was no QR code to scan for the dinner menu. Instead, they were handed paper menus, which, naturally, sparked widespread panic among those who had been conditioned to expect instant access and contactless payments. The staff had to intervene as groups gathered in clusters, whispering about “how will I order my kale salad without an app?” and “What if my phone dies and I can’t find my Uber?” It was a classic case of digital withdrawal, with some guests experiencing mild tantrums, clutching their vintage flip phones like security blankets.
The retreat organizers, seemingly unprepared for such a riot, doubled down on the irony—offering “mindfulness exercises” in the form of group sharing sessions about their trauma of losing connectivity. Participants sat in circles, venting about their “withdrawal symptoms,” while their smug Instagram posts were planned for the moment they returned to the digital world. The irony thickened when some attendees secretly sneaked their phones into the retreat, discreetly posting ‘#LivingLikeIt’s1995’ from behind a vintage radio. Despite the chaos, the retreats continue to fill up, with millennials eager to pay thousands for the surreal experience of living like it’s 1995—complete with analog clocks, VHS tapes, and the collective trauma of not knowing what time it is.
As bizarre as it sounds, these luxury digital detox retreats perfectly encapsulate our paradoxical obsession with escape through nostalgia. Millennials pay hefty sums to disconnect from their devices only to find themselves obsessing over the absence of digital convenience—panicking over analog clocks or rioting over QR codes. Perhaps the real lesson here is that no matter how many retreat packages are marketed as ‘digital darkness retreats,’ the modern mind’s need for instant gratification is simply too deeply ingrained to be outrun, even in a luxury bubble of vintage chaos. Still, for those willing to surrender their smartphones and embrace the analog chaos, these retreats offer a hilarious, if slightly ironic, glimpse into our collective longing for a simpler, more ‘authentic’ past—one that’s often just as complicated when it’s served with a side of smug social media posts.
