Picture a millennial. Her tastes, like her emotional problems, are oddly specific. She likes squishy pillows because they soothe her anxiety. She likes curvy fonts for this reason, too, and baby cacti. She can’t have a real baby because she is too poor. She can’t find a partner because she is too alienated. Perhaps she has a fish. She is locked in an Oedipal battle with the boomers, her parents, who told her she would inherit the Earth but sucked it dry.
Like the “teenager”, who emerged in post-depression America, in part as a marketing tool that recognised the spending power of adolescents, the “millennial” is largely a work of
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