A new catchphrase is sweeping China’s social media: The Beauty of the Boom Years.

一個新的流行語正在席捲中國社群媒體：經濟上行期的美。

Using apps like RedNote and Douyin, people are reviving memories of the 2000s and the early 2010s with photos of daring outfits, upbeat songs and vintage TV commercials, all of which, in different ways, evoke a time in China that pulsed with optimism.

通過小紅書和抖音等應用程序，人們用大膽的著裝照片、歡快的歌曲和復古電視廣告重溫2000年代和2010年代初的記憶，這些元素以不同方式喚醒了那個在中國處處躍動著樂觀主義的時代。

“The music back then throbbed with exuberance, brimming with the sense that the future could only get brighter,” a middle-aged man said in a RedNote video. “Today’s lyrics begin with lines like, ‘We’re trying our best to survive.’”

「那時的音樂洋溢著蓬勃活力，充滿了未來只會越來越好的感覺，」一位中年男子在小紅書的影片中說，「而如今的歌詞開頭都是『我們都在努力活著』。」

Others reminisced about fashion. “Twenty years ago when I was in college, I wore camisoles and hot pants,” wrote a female RedNote user under the hashtag #BeautyOfTheBoomYears. “These days, students dress more like nuns, always draped in oversized clothes.”

也有人懷念起過去的時尚。「20年前我上大學時，穿的是弔帶衫和熱褲。」一名小紅書用戶在「#經濟上行的美」標籤下寫道。「現在的學生穿得更像修女，總是裹在寬大的衣服裡。」

Using the hashtag, Chinese who started their careers two decades ago brag about when they received multiple job offers with generous year-end bonuses. Younger users respond with oohs and aahs, remembering their childhoods, a time when China felt livelier, cozier and full of possibility.

在這個標籤下，20年前踏入職場的中國人炫耀自己曾經同時收到多個工作機會，年終獎金豐厚。年輕用戶則發出陣陣驚嘆，追憶他們的童年時代，那會兒的中國更有活力、更溫暖，充滿了可能性。

The phrase expresses a longing for an era when China’s economy was roaring ahead and, for many, optimism was almost second nature. It doubles as a commentary on the country’s mood today. It especially speaks to China’s younger generation, who are grappling with an economic slowdown, record youth unemployment and tighter social controls.

這個流行語折射出人們對中國經濟高速增長時代的懷念，對很多人來說，那時的樂觀幾乎是一種本能。它同時也成為當下社會心態的註腳，尤其道出了中國年輕一代的心聲——他們正面臨著經濟放緩、創紀錄的青年失業率和愈發嚴苛的社會管控。

“Perhaps what we miss is not a ‘golden era,’ but the courage to believe the future holds promise,” read an editor’s note on an article headlined, “How Beautiful Was the Boom? Back Then a Job Hop Meant a 30 Percent Raise. Now Civil Service Exams Are the Only Way Up.”

「或許我們懷念的不是某個特定的『黃金年代』，而是那種『相信未來可期』的勇氣，」《經濟上行的美有多野？從前跳槽漲薪30%，現在考公捲成麻花》一文的編者按寫道。

Nostalgic hashtags such as #Millennium, #ChineseDreamcore and #BeautyOfTheBoomYears have drawn more than 10 billion views across the Chinese internet, according to the data firm Newrank. On Douyin, the short video platform, the tag #UsingFashionToShowTheBeautyOfTheBoomYears has racked up over 210 million views.

據數據公司新榜統計，「千禧年」、「中式夢核」、「經濟上行的美」等懷舊主題標籤在中國互聯網已獲得超百億次的瀏覽量。在短片平台抖音上，「用穿搭演繹經濟上行的美」這一標籤內容的播放量已突破2.1億次。

China’s boom years are often dated to the country’s entry in the World Trade Organization in 2001. They signified entrepreneurial energy, rising living standards and abundant career opportunities. The mood was captured in the titles of a hit song, “Tomorrow will be better,” and a popular television drama, “Strive.”

中國的經濟上行期通常以2001年加入世貿組織為起點。那是一個充滿創業活力、生活水平持續提升、職業機遇層出不窮的時代。熱門歌曲《明天會更好》和熱播電視劇《奮鬥》的名字都恰如其分地捕捉了當時的社會氛圍。

Optimism wasn’t just aspirational. It felt rational. Many believed that with hard work anyone could become the next Jack Ma, the Alibaba founder.

那種樂觀主義不僅是一種憧憬，更像是一種理性判斷。當時許多人相信，只要足夠努力，誰都可能成為下一個阿里巴巴創始人馬雲。

Where those years encouraged risk-taking, today’s environment leans toward caution. Civil-service jobs, once considered staid, now dominate the conversations of young people looking for havens in a shrinking job market.

如果說那些年鼓勵冒險精神，那麼當下的環境則趨向謹慎。曾經被視為乏味的公務員職位如今正主導著年輕人的擇業話題，他們希望在日益萎縮的就業市場裡謀得一份穩定的職業。

A carousel post on RedNote, another popular social media app, contrasts the two eras. Then, lighthearted romantic comedies and buoyant advertisements. Now, heavier dramas and therapeutic ads mirroring a society weighed down by pressure.

另一款熱門社交應用小紅書上的一個滑動圖文帖對比了兩個時代：當年是輕鬆的浪漫喜劇與歡快的廣告，如今則是沉重的電視劇和療愈系廣告，反映出壓力重重的社會現實。

Fashion tells the same story. In the 2000s, young women favored camisoles, short shorts and bright red lipstick. Now the prevailing look is oversized and concealing: long skirts, sun visor caps and UV protection hoodies. “It’s as if they’re shielding themselves from a harsher world,” another RedNote post said.

時尚變遷也在講述著同樣的故事。新世紀之初，年輕女性偏愛弔帶衫、熱褲和正紅色口紅。如今流行的裝扮卻是寬鬆而遮掩的風格：長裙、遮陽帽和防紫外線的防晒帽衫。「彷彿她們正將自己與更嚴酷的世界隔離開來，」小紅書上另一篇帖文寫道。

The boom-time beauty meme is the latest expression of a Gen Z counterculture born of disillusionment, the recognition that they may be the first generation in half a century unlikely to surpass their parents’ standard of living, no matter how hard they try.

「經濟上行期的美」這個網路迷因是Z世代幻滅情緒下最新的反文化表達。他們逐漸意識到，這一代人可能是半個世紀以來首個無論如何努力都難以超越父母輩生活水平的群體。

Over the past five years, this quiet resistance has taken many forms.

過去五年裡，這種安靜的抵抗以多種形式呈現。

It began with “lying flat,” a refusal to join the rat race. Some chose to pursue the “run philosophy,” or emigrating in search of freedom and brighter prospects. Others declared themselves the “last generation,” vowing not to have children. Still others embraced “let it rot,” giving up on difficult goals rather than battling for uncertain rewards. To show they could care less about career prospects, many took to wearing “gross outfits” at work.

它始於「躺平」，也就是拒絕加入激烈的競爭。一些人選擇「潤學」，即移民他鄉尋求自由與更光明的未來。還有人自稱「最後一代」，發誓不生孩子。另一些人則擁抱「擺爛」的態度，放棄艱難的目標，不為不確定的回報苦苦拼搏。為了表明自己毫不在乎職業前景，很多年輕人甚至穿著「噁心穿搭」上班。

Now the focus has turned to celebrating the beauty of the boom years, an implicit criticism of the present.

如今，他們的關注點轉向追捧經濟上行期的美，這本身就暗含對當下的批評。

Youth discontent worries government everywhere. Last week in Nepal, Gen Z protests over corruption and inequality forced out the country’s prime minister. In China, it was largely college students and young professionals who participated in the White Paper protests of late 2022, helping to end the harsh “zero-Covid” policy.

年輕人的不滿情緒令各國政府都感到擔憂。上週在尼泊爾，Z世代因腐敗和不平等問題舉行抗議，迫使總理下台。而在中國，2022年底「白紙運動」的主要參與者是大學生和年輕的上班族，這場抗議推動了嚴苛的「清零」政策的結束。

Beijing keeps a watchful eye on even the subtlest resistance. In a 2022 editorial, People’s Daily, the Communist Party’s official newspaper, scolded young people for “lying flat.” In 2023, as one in five young Chinese were jobless, the country’s leader, Xi Jinping, called on them to “eat bitterness,” a phrase that means to endure hardships.

北京對即使是最微妙的抵抗也保持著警惕。2022年，共產黨黨報《人民日報》在一篇社論中責備年輕人的「躺平」心態。2023年，當五分之一的中國年輕人失業時，國家領導人習近平號召他們要學會「吃苦」。

So far authorities seem to have allowed the boom-year nostalgia to circulate online, perhaps happy to instill some optimistic energy into the young generation. But for Gen Z, it’s easier to be nostalgic about the past than upbeat about the present.

到目前為止，當局似乎允許這種對經濟上行年代的懷念在網上傳播，也許他們樂於給年輕一代注入一些樂觀的能量。但對Z世代來說，懷念過去比樂觀面對當下要容易得多。

Growing up in a small town in southern province of Guangxi, Wei, now 34, remembers his teenage years as an age of glitter. He carried a phone charm that lit up like a magic wand with every call. “People wanted to shine because they wanted to be seen,” he said. “To be seen meant more opportunities.”

34歲的魏（音）在廣西南部的一個小鎮長大，他記得自己小時候所處的是一個流光溢彩的年代。他有一個手機掛件，每次來電時它都會像魔杖一樣亮起來。「人們想要發光，因為他們想要被看到，」他說。「被看到意味著更多的機會。」

Today Mr. Wei, who asked me to use only his family name for fear of government retribution, works as an engineer in construction. He calls it a “sunset industry,” since China has already overbuilt much of its infrastructure, particularly housing. Single and with no plans for children, he sees little future in the life he once imagined, saying his optimism has disappeared as he has found it harder to speak his mind publicly.

由於擔心遭到政府報復，魏要求只使用他的姓氏，如今，他在一家建築公司擔任工程師，他稱這是一個「夕陽行業」，因為中國的基礎設施——尤其是住房——早已嚴重過度建設。他單身，沒有要孩子的計劃，他對自己曾經設想的人生已不抱希望。他說，隨著他發現公開表達自己的想法越來越難，他的樂觀情緒已經消失了。

Cora, a 25-year-old Beijing native, cherishes childhood memories of chatting with mom-and-pop food stall owners after school in the early 2010s. “They were simply making a living, yet each radiated contentment,” she said.

25歲的北京人科拉珍藏著童年記憶：2010年代初放學後，她會與街頭小吃攤主聊天。「他們只是為了謀生，但每個人都洋溢著滿足感，」她說。

Those stalls are gone, cleared in what city officials said were campaigns to beautify the streets and drive out the “low-end population.” Places that once carried people’s dreams and livelihoods and sweat and emotions were turned into lawns, she said.

那些小吃攤早已消失無蹤，它們在市政府所謂的美化市容、清理「低端人口」行動中遭到取締。她說，這些曾承載著人們夢想、生計、汗水與情感的地方，最終變成了草坪。

Cora, who asked me not to use her surname, emigrated to Canada in 2022, giving up on her dream of working in one of Beijing’s skyscrapers.

科拉要求不要透露她的姓。2022年，她移民加拿大，放棄了在北京的摩天大樓裡工作的夢想。

Will Yu, 29, grew up idolizing China’s tech companies. He devoured stories of generous pay packages, overseas retreats and canteen meals prepared by five-star chefs. When he joined a big firm in Shanghai in 2021 as an interactive designer, those kinds of perks had vanished. He worked long hours churning out one sales promotion design after another. He felt he had little hope of advancing in his career.

29歲的威爾·於（音）從小崇拜中國的科技公司。他沉迷於那些高薪、海外度假和五星級大廚掌勺員工餐的故事。當他在2021年入職上海的一家大公司擔任交互設計師時，這些福利早已不復存在。他長時間加班，完成一個又一個促銷設計。他感到自己在職業發展上幾乎沒有什麼希望。

After two years he quit and moved to Germany. He was struck by how limited China’s social safety net and legal protections were by comparison.

兩年後，他��職去了德國。相較之下，他深感中國的社會保障和法律保護多麼有限。

“Our generation mistook growth for progress,” he said. “A healthy society needs fairness, freedom and respect for every individual.”

「我們這一代人把增長誤認為是進步，」他說。「一個健康的社會需要公平、自由，以及對每個人的尊重。」

As a gay man, he once believed that money could help overcome social and political constraints, until he witnessed the government’s crackdown on L.G.B.T.Q. community.

作為一名同性戀者，他曾相信金錢可以幫助自己突破社會與政治上的限制，直到親眼目睹政府對LGBTQ群體的打壓。

“Everyone is competing for first-class seats on the Titanic,” Mr. Yu said. “But few stop to ask where exactly the ship is headed.”

「每個人都在爭搶鐵達尼號上的頭等艙席位，」於說，「卻很少有人停下來問一問，這艘船究竟要駛向何方。」