Jules of Nature
$LAYYYTER
KIROKAZE
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
No title available
No title available
JVL
Three Goblin Art
tumblr dot com
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
todays bird
DEAR READER
ojovivo
art blog(derogatory)
Kiana Khansmith
Not today Justin
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Keni
⁂
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Singapore
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Switzerland
seen from United States
seen from Uruguay
seen from Brunei
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from Netherlands
@memorylnmuseum
Rad-Wave Transmission: 80s Vaporwave Aesthetic & Retro-Futurism Collage Art
Step into a neon-soaked past with Rad-Wave Transmission. This piece blends 80s nostalgia with glitched-out tech, featuring chrome lettering, pixelated typography, and a vibrant vaporwave skyline. Perfect for fans of analog aesthetics, retro-futurism, and the high-energy pulse of the midnight city.
#vaporwave #synthwave #retrofuturism #80saesthetic #vaporwave #retrofuturism #cybercore #neonaesthetic #retrowave
conversation pit. platform shoes left by the door. pontiac gto that says "groovy" on the plates because of course it does. lava lamp doing its thing in the corner.
good times. real soul. forever groovy.
the mirror ball is still spinning. the record never stopped. good times are this way — the sign said so.
the food reconstitution panel has a dedicated DESSERTS button and I think about that every single day.
no waste. no fuss. all delicious. more time for the things that matter most — which in 1957 meant sitting in your curved pink dining booth watching flying saucers go by while the magic oven handles everything.
she has cat-eye glasses and a pearl necklace and complete mastery over seventeen dials. she is the most competent person in any timeline.
built for today. designed for tomorrow. still waiting.
gold lamé jumpsuit. shag carpet. mirror ball the size of a small planet. one arm up because the ceiling is the only limit and even that's negotiable.
the road to soul runs through a desert highway in a gold muscle car with the windows down.
there's a rotary phone off the hook because he left for the dancefloor three hours ago and hasn't looked back.
dance, groove, repeat. that's not a tagline. that's a lifestyle.
the greek bust is wearing pink sunglasses and has seen things you wouldn't believe.
boombox? yes. roller skates? yes. supercar that says "80s vibes" on the license plate in case you forgot? absolutely yes. a neon sign that just says Rad because no further explanation was deemed necessary?
correct.
this isn't a poster. it's a decade having a moment and refusing to apologize for any of it.
bold. bright. unapologetic. the 80s said all three out loud and meant every word.
tokyo tower. sydney opera house. japanese street market. a teal '57 chevy. flying saucers on a Tuesday. a television showing what time it is on the moon.
retro world didn't pick a city. retro world picked all of them and then added rockets just to be safe.
the future is local and galactic, and apparently, you can drive there in a two-tone Chevrolet.
the robot brought cocktails. the fireplace is brass and the shape of a rocket. the sofa curves like it's already in orbit. outside the window — just Earth, doing its thing, 400 miles below.
this was someone's vision of Tuesday evening in 1968.
a robot maid. a cone fireplace. atomic blueprints on the coffee table. Earth as the view.
they called it comfort and they were not wrong.
city of tomorrow. architectural study. 1957.
someone sat down with a drafting pencil and decided the future would have: curved balconies on every floor, a monorail through the lobby, a helicopter on the roof, a VW bus out front, and a rooftop ring that doesn't need to explain itself.
they weren't building a city. they were writing a love letter to a future they genuinely believed in.
the monorail goes somewhere wonderful. the helicopter already left. the two people on the sidewalk don't even look up.
1957 looked at Bauhaus and said: primary colors, womb chairs, chrome everything.
then it looked out the window and said: monorail. observation domes on stilts. towers so tall they don't need names.
then it sat down in the orange chair and decided the future was going to be fine, actually. better than fine. the future was going to have excellent furniture and a view.
it wasn't wrong about the furniture.
someone made the entire space age out of old newspapers and honestly that feels historically accurate.
the flying saucer is yesterday's headlines. the rocket is graph paper and fire. the pink cadillac is every story nobody finished reading. the future, as it turns out, was made of words all along.
this took patience. this took vision. this took an absolutely unhinged amount of paper.
the food reconstitution machine has three dials and she knows exactly what all three of them do. the magic oven has a universe inside it. the booth is curved because straight lines weren't invented yet in this kitchen.
1957 said: dinner will be scientific AND delightful AND your appliances will glow.
they were so earnestly, completely wrong about the future and so perfectly, completely right about the aesthetic.
1957 genuinely believed we'd have flying saucers AND a perfect kitchen AND a pink Cadillac AND a cat napping on the atomic rug all at the same time.
and you know what — the cat on the rug part worked out.
the future they imagined was pastel and hopeful and slightly unhinged and I think about it constantly.
interior design in 1987 said: what if we took every pattern that exists and put them all in one room and then also added more patterns
and honestly? visionary. unhinged. correct.
the maze rug. the zigzag dresser. the floating triangles that answer to no one. this room has zero chill and infinite confidence.
the flowers grew through the dark and came out the other side more purple than they started. the vines didn't ask permission. the stars just watched.
this is what thriving looks like in 1972.
your grandmother had this on a scarf. your aunt had it on a blouse. your cool older cousin had it on a tapestry in her bedroom that smelled like patchouli and possibility.
it's been living rent free in your subconscious ever since.
three women. one collective vision. zero intention of explaining themselves to you.
their hair became the sky became the flowers became the river became your entire personality for the next six months.
this poster was on a wall somewhere in 1972 and the wall has never recovered.
one little yellow circle. one curve of a line for a mouth. two dots for eyes.
and somehow it survived newspapers, pin badges, rave flyers, dial-up chat rooms, flip phones, and the entire internet.
the smiley face didn't go viral. it was viral. before we even had a word for it.