Singapore's millennials are nostalgic, and it's fueling trends in art and retail

Modernity has always been the cornerstone of Singapore's self-perception; it is not a coincidence that the title of the national anthem translates into English as Onward Singapore. Today, the city state markets itself to the world as a forward-looking metropolis.

Note the recently remoulded skyline, starring the futuristic forms of the Marina Bay Sands casino, ArtScience museum and Gardens By The Bay - million-dollar attractions that pivot on the allure of new, cutting-edge spectacles.

Look a little closer, however, and it is not difficult to observe a strain of nostalgia that is growing stronger and more pervasive. It is also not surprising that the seeds of this love affair with history were planted around the same time the scaffolding for Singapore's glamorous new attractions were going up.

The transformation into a sleek and shiny playground for the world's wealthiest people has had an unexpected side effect of making old-fashioned ways unbearably cool.

Some might trace Singapore's nostalgia movement back to a small literary fiction bookshop that opened in Telok Ayer Street in 2005.

Housed in a conserved shophouse and one of the first notable indie stores on the scene, BooksActually pioneered a vintage aesthetic whose influence can be seen in many of Singapore's boutiques and cafes. Think artfully displayed samples of obsolete technology, such as typewriters, film cameras and other mementos from bygone eras, presented in whimsical bohemian spaces that are slightly - deliberately - rough around the edges. Co-founder Kenny Leck, 34, says many of the vintage decorative items in BooksActually were passed down from family members, "and I can't bear to throw them away". These include cassette tapes (Leslie Cheung albums from his brother and Black Sabbath ones from his father) and old editions of Penguin paperbacks from his personal collection. He does buy items such as vintage glass tumblers specifically for retail purposes however, and concedes that these yield great profits.

The bookstore recently hosted an exhibition, "Once Upon Singapore", which showcased vintage records and stationery, all from the personal collections of creative types like Kelley Cheng, who heads publishing and design consultancy The Press Room.

"We revere nostalgia, and revel in collecting old objects that are of sentimental value," the exhibition's curatorial text proclaims.

"Perhaps Books Actually became a magnifying glass for this trend," Leck speculates. "People liked what they saw in our shop, and this turned into a consumerist desire to buy these types of things."

Nostalgia today is not just manifested in the display of an Olivetti typewriter in a Haji Lane boutique, or a Polaroid camera in a Tiong Bahru cafe - to name two hipster havens where it always seems to be yesterday once more.

Consumerist desire for a romanticised past has spiked so considerably that nostalgia is a significant source of artistic inspiration. Filmmaker Royston Tan's last two releases were Old Places (2010) and Old Romances (2012), documentaries that aimed to "preserve" - on film at least - places in Singapore that will soon disappear or be redeveloped.