Millennials who grew up in Toronto will feel major nostalgia about these 10 things, Life in canada

As a millennial who grew up in Toronto, I’ve seen a pretty significant evolution over the years. Because of the city’s transformative nature, certain areas now only live on as childhood memories — and make me super nostalgic.

Our generation has seen entire blocks redeveloped, neighbourhoods totally change, and places that felt intrinsic to Toronto’s vibe disappear altogether.

It’s not even like all of these places were particularly amazing, either. But for those of us who spent our formative years wandering through Honest Ed’s or catching shows at the Sound Academy, there’s a special kind of something that’s hard to replicate.

Wandering around Honest Ed’s

If you didn’t get lost as a kid wandering around Honest Ed’s, did you even grow up in Toronto? Anyone born before the year 2000 should remember this spot, which first opened in 1948 thanks to Ed Mirvish. A Toronto institution that once sat at the corner of Bloor and Bathurst, it was impossible to miss its massive, flashing marquee.

I personally remember going there with my grandfather every August to do some back-to-school shopping. He’d always end up with a ton of random stuff in his basket, and I recall feeling like being in some sort of bargain-labyrinth fever dream every time I was in there. Still, you really couldn’t beat those prices.

Drinking too much at the Brunswick House

Oh, The Brunswick House. Or “The Brunny,” if you were a regular. It was one of those bars millennials loved to hate. Even still, we ended up there time and time again — and the history it had before its closure in 2016 was actually quite interesting.

It first opened its doors in 1876, long before that stretch of Bloor became the student-laden strip it was in the 2000s. Over its 140-year run, it saw all kinds of clientele and transformations — from a hotel and tavern in its early days to, at one point, the place where my own mother won an underwear contest in the ‘80s.

I can admit, I went a handful of times during my university years, when it felt more like a club than a bar. And despite its slightly trashy reputation, the day it closed was the end of an era — especially for millennials, many of whom had their first (and probably regrettable) sips of alcohol there.

Strolling through the High Park Zoo

There’s something so incredibly nostalgic about the High Park Zoo, and it turns out, it’s not just in my head. It’s been around since 1893, which is a lot older than I would have guessed.

I used to visit on weekends with my grandfather, who actually worked for the park. It was the kind of outing that never got old, and that was always sweetened by a crisp $5 bill or a chocolate bar by the end of our visit.

Looking back, it’s one of those places that hasn’t changed all that much, and maybe that’s exactly why it still feels so tied to my millennial childhood.

Or visiting Riverdale Farm

Riverdale Farm is also still up and running, but chances are you haven’t been since you were a kid (unless you have kids yourself). If you grew up on the east end, Riverdale Farm was your version of the High Park Zoo, but a bit more immersive. It first opened in 1978, but operated as a zoo from 1894 until 1974.

Today, it’s still a working farm that is smack-dab in the centre of Cabbagetown.

Shopping at the Galleria Mall

The Galleria Mall in Toronto.

Rick Madonik | Getty Images

Home to a Zellers and budget stores aplenty, this mall was a staple of Dufferin and Dupont. It was the total opposite of flashy. A bit rundown and sometimes a little sketchy, actually, but it had a charm to it regardless.

I remember going there with my older brother to buy new shoes from the Payless Shoe Store that was inside, and begging him to give me a quarter for the gumball machine. And for some reason, I can still picture the older Italian men lingering in the corridors, drinking espresso and eating pastries. It was the kind of mundane scene that didn’t seem like much at the time, but now feels strangely nostalgic.

Seeing a show at Sound Academy

Sound Academy was my introduction to Toronto’s concert scene when I was a teen. I saw artists during every phase of my adolescence, from Alexisonfire to The Kooks, alt-J, and Crystal Castles.

Before it was The Sound Academy, it was known as The Docks, a venue my parents (who also spent most of their lives in Toronto) still talk about.

By the time I was buying tickets for myself, it had already evolved into something else. And when it closed in 2016 and became Rebel, another era came to an end (and of course, a new one began).

Sifting through tees at Black Market

Walking into this vintage shop is like stepping back in time. It still exists today (and actually has two locations on Queen West), but I specifically remember meeting up with friends at the one in the basement and buying tees for 5 bucks a pop. It’s been around since the ‘80s, and I’m pretty sure it hasn’t changed much since then.

Its lack of curation is probably what made it the most exciting; you had to work for your finds. And it was always worth it, because it was always affordable.

Getting ice cream from Dutch Dreams

I used to live around the corner from Dutch Dreams, which is located on Vaughan and St. Clair West. It was the best ice cream spot for me when I was little, with gigantic servings and toppings a kid could only dream about.

The ice cream is 10/10, and the ambiance is quirky and a ton of fun. The kind of place that feels a little over-the-top, but in the best way. It’s also the type of spot some of my friends ended up working at as a summer job in high school, which somehow makes it feel even more like a millennial rite of passage.

Going to the CNE

I’d guess that generations of Torontonians feel some kind of way about the Canadian National Exhibition (also known as the CNE or the Ex).

I have friends who worked their first summer jobs there, who had their first kiss there — all the classic coming-of-age moments you can think of. It’s the kind of place that becomes part of your timeline without you even realizing it.

Discovering music at Sam the Record Man

Sam the Record Man was the music store in Toronto for decades. It was the kind of place that felt like a landmark as much as a shop. It first opened in 1937 as a small record store and eventually grew into a full-on music retail empire across Canada.

The flagship location on Yonge Street closed in 2007 (when I was around 14), so my memories of it are a bit hazy. But the feeling of it is clear as day: chaotic, overwhelming, and also the coolest place I’d ever been.

The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the views of Narcity Media.