Too young for Woodstock, too old for Snapchat, and just jaded enough to remember when “offline” was all there was. We, the Latchkey Kids, raised ourselves on sarcasm, TV dinners, and parenting advice like, “Rub some dirt on it.”

Welcome to the survivors of dial-up, grunge, and life without participation trophies. No whining. No avocado toast. Just the coolest threads for the generation that didn’t need anyone’s approval.