Temperatures are rising, and the sun sets a little later, ushering in the perfect setting for group gatherings and parties. Nostalgia has become the trendiest accessory for a summer to remember, with Freaknik-themed parties flooding social media feeds.
Freakniks pay homage to the epic Atlanta, Georgia festival made popular in the ’90s. Ahead of Hulu’s recent documentary Freaknik: The Greatest Party Never Told, National Public Radio (NPR) said “Freaknik was an annual party held in Atlanta over spring break in the 1980s and ’90s that attracted tens of thousands of people at its peak.”
The original Freaknik proved to be a seminal moment in Black popular culture, producing images that exude Black joy, with hordes of carefree men and women blasting tunes from boomboxes and hot cars. Vibes were immaculate.
The recent iterations of these parties may come off as fleeting trends, with blink-and-you’ll-miss-it social media invites and FOMO-inducing disappearing posts. But there’s true cultural significance that comes from these massive events rooted in the reclamation of spaces and narratives.
“The reason why the new generation is so obsessed with ’90s culture is because there’s been a renaissance of Black people realizing that the things we were shunned for, and the things that we were supposed to be convinced were ghetto and not relevant to culture, are actually a very big part of what makes us who we are,” Zorine Truly said. Truly is a native of North Memphis, and known lovingly as a Hoochie Historian on platforms such as TikTok and Instagram.
Through her social media presence and her annual event, Hoochiecon, Truly has been able to reclaim Black fashion and culture trends and respectability politics.
“The renaissance of the whole ’90s Freaknik is just basically giving honor to our immediate ancestors who a lot of people brushed as just being ghetto,” Truly said.
Freaknik-themed parties are just an extension of creating space for Black people to be themselves, and it’s not uncommon for them to spill out into the city for the masses to observe.
With this however, there’s bound to be people from outside the culture writing off these experiences as superfluous with harmful rhetoric.
It’s important for Black people to have spaces where they can exist without fear of judgment, especially in the South, Truly said. She said she’s always found comfort in going places where she’s going to be around people who like her. She adds that these are the results of many places in the city “cater to white folks,” with seemingly anti-Black dress codes and restrictions.
“We all have to constantly code-switch and wear these masks,” Truly said. “It’s very important for us to be in an environment where we can relax and enjoy ourselves without the worry of judgment or somebody calling the police on us.”
Degarrett Javoll grew up in the heyday of Black-Memphis party life, calling them the “Denim and Diamond days,” and shares that these events gave Black people the opportunity to see a life they saw on television and popular media, play out in the city.
“If I had to put it in a nutshell, it was Memphis ’90s night-life as we saw it on television,” Javoll said. “We had the big club, the big parking lot — people had a little money so we had cars – so we got a chance to display our cars, put on our good clothes, and go to a place that was available for 21-year-olds, and 19 and 18-year-old people to go to and get away from the house and act like we were in Atlanta.”
There’s always been a need for these spaces and experiences in the lives of Black Americans, and they’ve always created them, whether publicly or privately. However, they don’t always come in the forms of large parties and gatherings.
Javoll’s career has taken him from Memphis to Atlanta, being able to serve as a celebrity barber with clientele such as Kobe Bryant, LeBron James, Robin Thicke and more. He currently serves as the residency DJ at Paula Raiford’s Disco and owns Headquarters Beauty & Barber Spa in Southaven, Mississippi.
“The salon experience for Black people — barber shops or beauty shops — is not really just a service,” Javoll said. “It’s who we are. It’s our own country club, it’s our own space. Barbers and beauticians are our mentors, our therapist — pretty much someone you can depend on that’s going to listen to you and be our ear.”
These spaces, whether for grooming and community or for a good time, are integral for Black people, and both Truly and Javoll agree that they made them who they are. But when these institutions are seen by those on the outside, without understanding the cultural value and significance they hold, it can lead to misconceptions and calls for culture erasure.
“It’s something that you can’t get rid of,” Javoll said. “Even if you try, it’s a part of who we are, and you can’t stop us from being who we are. We’re going to find a way to be who we are regardless — whether you want us to or not.”
Javoll goes on to say that big, often rowdy parties are common to all cultures, but they are typically viewed differently when Black people are involved. Rather than trying to write them off as merely frivolous disturbances, both Javoll and Truly agree that these can be opportunities to appreciate and understand the Black community.
Truly said her biggest takeaways from these events is that Black people get to have joy. She advises that people who see Black people “together and having a good time” without harm should “mind their business.”
“Everything is not catering towards you and the things that you don’t understand — it might just not be for you and that’s okay,” Truly said. “Everything is not for everybody, and I think one of the most important things as the summer comes around in Memphis and we begin to celebrate things that are for us and by us is to just enjoy ourselves and be safe. “
