As a Gen Z who has spent years aggressively debating the Mount Rushmore of Disney, I stand by Miley Cyrus, Selena Gomez, and Demi Lovato as the holy trinity. So, when Miley announced a Hannah Montana 20th Anniversary Special, it was less “I’ll watch it” and more “clear my evening, cancel my personality”. This is the show that had me hoarding stickers and emotionally blackmailing my parents into buying that iconic glittery scarf, which, for the record, still exists in the back of my wardrobe.
The special itself is a glossy, nostalgia-heavy, 58-minute trip down memory lane, complete with recreated sets, archival footage, and Miley slipping back into the wig like no time has passed. Watching her revisit the closet, try on outfits, and even recreate the iconic goodbye door-closing scene felt like emotional whiplash in the best way. Also, the songs. The wigs.
But here’s the thing. For a show that defined a generation, where was everyone? No Lily, no Oliver, no Jackson. Instead, we got Alex Cooper leading a sit-down that should have been dripping with tea but felt oddly…restrained. There were flashes of insight about fame and growing up Disney, but you could sense juicier stories hovering just out of reach. Chappell Roan pops in, which is fun but slightly chaotic casting.
Still, watching it with friends, screaming at the screen, it hit the same nerve as middle-school sleepovers. If Hannah Montana shaped us this much, where are the shows doing that for tweens today, or are they all just growing up directly on social media? And if the sheer, slightly unhinged excitement around this anniversary proves anything, it is that those shows mattered in a way algorithms simply don’t. Maybe it is a bit of a wake-up call. Because right now, tweens are not really getting their own Hannah Montana moment. They are just fast-tracking into the same content loops as teenagers and even adults, skipping that strange, sparkly, in-between phase entirely.
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As a Gen Z who has spent years aggressively debating the Mount Rushmore of Disney, I stand by Miley Cyrus, Selena Gomez, and Demi Lovato as the holy trinity. So, when Miley announced a Hannah Montana 20th Anniversary Special, it was less “I’ll watch it” and more “clear my evening, cancel my personality”. This is the show that had me hoarding stickers and emotionally blackmailing my parents into buying that iconic glittery scarf, which, for the record, still exists in the back of my wardrobe.
The special itself is a glossy, nostalgia-heavy, 58-minute trip down memory lane, complete with recreated sets, archival footage, and Miley slipping back into the wig like no time has passed. Watching her revisit the closet, try on outfits, and even recreate the iconic goodbye door-closing scene felt like emotional whiplash in the best way. Also, the songs. The wigs.
But here’s the thing. For a show that defined a generation, where was everyone? No Lily, no Oliver, no Jackson. Instead, we got Alex Cooper leading a sit-down that should have been dripping with tea but felt oddly…restrained. There were flashes of insight about fame and growing up Disney, but you could sense juicier stories hovering just out of reach. Chappell Roan pops in, which is fun but slightly chaotic casting.
Still, watching it with friends, screaming at the screen, it hit the same nerve as middle-school sleepovers. If Hannah Montana shaped us this much, where are the shows doing that for tweens today, or are they all just growing up directly on social media? And if the sheer, slightly unhinged excitement around this anniversary proves anything, it is that those shows mattered in a way algorithms simply don’t. Maybe it is a bit of a wake-up call. Because right now, tweens are not really getting their own Hannah Montana moment. They are just fast-tracking into the same content loops as teenagers and even adults, skipping that strange, sparkly, in-between phase entirely.
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Sheya Kurian, Features Writer |
Sheya Kurian, Features Writer |
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