Every week, Today in Nostalgia looks at the trends we once clung to, defended, and were ultimately betrayed by. Memberships to the Beanie Babies Official Club accepted, BYO tearaways. Let’s do this.

Trend: Northern Getaway

Era of cool: 1994-1997, respectively

Describe, please: Northern Getaway wasn’t just a chain of stores, it was a straight-up right of passage. Tackling and appropriating various aspects of stereotypical Canadiana, NG targeted us seven, eight, nine, ten, and 11-year-olds who found ourselves in hoodies adorned with everything from hockey players to loons, in T-shirts riddled with wolves, or in matching floral leggings-and-dress sets that cost a small fortune. (Says I, a responsible adult in 2014.)

In a word (or more, since that’s how a sentence works), Northern Getaway was the crème de la crème of ’90s childrenswear. It delivered flannel in a less-threatening way than grunge. It coined “Spice Mice” and “Cat Street Boys” in celebration of bands I would still follow around the world (if I didn’t have to pay for it). It matched scrunchies with T-shirt patterns, and was responsible for my nickname: the Jolly Rancher (because when everyone had moved onto the Gap, I was still in fuchsia NG sweatsuits). It was the first fashion currency, and I’m still jealous of everyone who had desert boots to wear with those printed tights.

Why it was cool: Um, let’s be serious: loons. But more specifically, I have no idea. I have no idea why for a few short years, we collectively decided to wear National Geographic photo shoots across our tiny bodies. I have no idea why I wanted a sweatshirt with a button-on mouse. I have no idea why the clothes with cartoons on them were cooler than the dressier Northern Getaway choices. I have no idea why work socks over leggings still makes me think the wearer has “made it.” And more heartbreakingly, I have no idea where my “Crazy Sexy Cool” friendship necklace went that I wore with my Northern Getaway turtleneck under my Northern Getaway flannel tucked into my Northern Getaway pleated pants. I also have no idea why I was so keen to dress like Jill Taylor from Home Improvement.

Odds of a comeback: Isn’t that what’s happening right now? No, but guys: if I showed up wearing a matching floral leggings-and-dress set with complementary scrunchie, we know just how on board everyone would be. There’s a reason we’re all buying ’90s florals (and why some of those vintage florals have OG Northern Traditions tags on them). There’s a reason we’re still buying work socks, and why T-shirts with loons and wolves have reappeared: because damn it, Northern Getaway was amazing. It was amazing that we wanted to unknowingly represent Canada in such a cliche way; that we weren’t embarrassed to be covered in local wildlife decals atop a pale yellow turtleneck. It’s amazing that when I see my grade four class photo, I’m still jealous of that one girl’s Northern Getaway dress. That, my friends, is amazing. And what’s more amazing that if I found a Spice Mice shirt* tomorrow, I would force my adult body into it until the fibres yielded to my will, and I would wear it proudly.

*Specifically the style with the empty chair for Geri that simply said, “We miss you.” I miss you too, NG. [Loon sounds]