Front Page > July 30, 2010 > "Revertigo" May Not Be a Real Word, but It's Very Real

"Revertigo" May Not Be a Real Word, but It's Very Real

HUMOR

by Ivy Goze

The term originated in the show “How I Met Your Mother”. I think Jason Segel’s character Marshall Eriksen can be credited for coining it. It means that when you come across somebody from your past, you revert to your old personality when you used to spend time with that person – e.g. adults who act juvenile in the presence of their siblings or parents. The lead character in the series, Ted Mosby, played by Josh Radnor, expressed doubts over the existence of the word (“It’s a stupid, made-up word with no meaning!”). Whether “revertigo” has, in fact, insinuated itself in the dictionary (the serious one; it’s definitely already making the rounds of urban dictionaries and other specialized word listings) — or if it ever will — remains to be seen. Nevertheless, it’s very real. There is probably a technical or official term for it in the field of psychology, but thanks to “revertigo’s” rise to fame, it will probably remain obscure.

I personally am a living testimony for revertigo. I don’t even have to meet anybody. Sometimes, something as simple as a song would set me off. This revertigo to my teen years is rife with faux angst and boredom, interspersed with spells of ridiculous boy-craziness. In my lucid moments, shame descends upon me and I try to pretend that the revertigos never happened. It was particularly bad a couple of years ago when the New Kids on the Block decided to reunite in midlife and I found myself dancing to “The Right Stuff” in front of my toddler. It was no wonder that the email I later sent to my tween years best friend was teeming with exclamation points and was concluded with the declaration, “NKOTB Forever! Friends Forever!” If I had found a way to dot my note with hearts, I would have.

Now, there’s revertigo and there’s living in a pocket. A time pocket is somewhere you can slip into to do your own thing and then slip out of without having missed a second in the real world. I remember reading somewhere that it’s a Buddhist concept, but whatever it is, it definitely sounds like a fantasy. What usually happens in reality is you slip into said pocket, and the world moves on and leaves you behind. You slip out of it and find that you have a whole lot of catching up to do, but you don’t really want to do that so you just return to the pocket and live there until you’re forced out of it. I haven’t exactly been living in a pocket, but my state of mind is somehow stuck in the ‘90s. To my own embarrassment and regret, I don’t seem to be turning out to be the kind of person who ages gracefully. I found turning 30 to be totally depressing and as the years wore on, I began to resemble in character this caricature of a great-aunt of mine. Back in the ‘80s, she would show up for get-togethers in bobby socks and poodle skirts. I and the other members of the younger generation used to snicker and mutter “Groovy!” to each other. What can I say? You never know at which point in the future you would get your comeuppance. Case in point, grunge continues to live on, as far as I’m concerned. That’s why in a sea of glossy pink lips, my matte maroon ones stand out like a freaky sore thumb. I am also of the continuing belief that I can wear anything with Doc Martens. I recently wore them with shorts and got an “Are you going somewhere as Lara Croft?” crack from my wiseacre husband. I retorted with a “Bite me!” and then wondered if people still said that. A few days later, I stubbornly put on the same pair of Doc Martens with a floral dress. That was the height of fashion in the early ‘90s and it is my conviction that it should always be regarded as such. I wonder if youngsters are now sniggering behind my back and mumbling “Clueless!” to each other.

Somewhat akin to a Japanese straggler who was fighting a war that had already ended 30 years before his capture/surrender, I find myself tending to dwell in the past, to live in a time that is no more. I bet there are many out there with the same inclination. Who can blame us for clinging to simpler, happier days? To a time when nothing sagged, when facial expression was a prerogative and not the root of facial etchings, when metabolism wasn’t as slow as molasses (did I mention the time I attempted to diet and gained 3 lbs for my effort?)…

You would think that revertigo is a symptom of aging, but it’s not peculiar to the, well, aged. Even young people get it. I suppose, it’s a possibility in anybody who has woven the beginnings of his or her history, anyone who has any sort of past to speak of. For instance, my 3-year-old recently came across an old friend – a binky I had forgotten to dispose of along with the rest of her stash – and started cooing and gurgling like a baby.

For those of us who have already witnessed decades of life, we can probably appreciate revertigos more. Is it really silly that we welcome old friends and the revertigo they tend to cause? In a sense, it’s one way of capturing moments from our youth. In my case, should you ever find me wearing crazy neon colors and screaming “Synchronize Swatches!” I had probably just come across one of my high school friends. Please be kind and don’t judge me. You know it’s the revertigo talking.

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Ivy is a protesting 30-something who misses the nineties something fierce. She blogs about her revertigos at http://spinninglovelydays.com .

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Published on the Front Page of Fortitude July 30, 2010

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