The Netflix hit drama about a couple who meet at university in the 90s is resonating with a generation whose lives are very different, writes Eliza Filby
All history is revised, rather than repeated, and right now the focus is on the 90s, a decade that spawned the End of History, the Spice Girls, Blair Babes and grunge. The Netflix smash-hit One Day taps into this nostalgic trip: a two-decade love story between Dexter, the wayward son of Cotswold privilege, and Emma, the ambitious yet uncertain working class girl from Leeds.
For those who remember the music, supersized suits and novelty landlines the series has touched a nerve, but it has also found a younger audience – one that views it all as a curious, bygone world. And it is, perhaps even more than we realise. For as much as One Day is a universal coming of age tale, it is really about education and class – two forces which have fundamentally changed since the 1990s.
Dexter and Emma’s paths first cross at Edinburgh in 1988, a time when only around 15 per cent of UK school leavers went to university. Class distinctions were there but campus was also a social leveller brought about by academic ability, with no fees and student grants. Fast forward to today and campus life has dramatically transformed.
Where once the challenge was gaining admission, now the main battleground is financial, with the costs associated shaping the university experience far more than the pursuit of knowledge for knowledge’s sake. Students are increasingly studying vocational subjects, degree apprenticeships and juggling jobs whilst studying. Gen Z’s experience is also now more reliant on their access to the parental ATM. Back in 2017, Aviva found that 8 out of 10 parents were funding their offspring nearly £300 per month. Thanks to their parents, 10 per cent of students do not require a loan at all but for the rest it hinges on their willingness to bear the debt burden of typically around £50,000 plus interest.
Dexter and Emma emerge from disparate worlds, but I’m not sure that they would have even met on today’s campuses. Money has always determined experience but now the gap is more extreme. Halls of residences range from a centrally-located lux new-build block with an in-house gym, to an out-of-town old workers’ cottage with permanent damp. Student homelessness is on the rise and accommodation costs have increased by 15 per cent in three years. It is little wonder that with spiralling rents, one in three applicants considers living at home.
But assuming they did meet, would Dexter and Emma even get together these days? Arguably, the class dating divide is more pronounced than ever. Gen X are the generation who are most likely to have met their life partner at university; but for their kids’ generation, romantic serendipity is governed as much by social stratification as by algorithm. When asked, 45 per cent of upper-class respondents suggested that they would not have a relationship with someone from a different class, according to a 2017 survey. The same year a report from the Resolution Foundation found that wealth, rather than class or education, is increasingly determining unions: “UK people tend to couple up with those who have similar inheritance expectations to their own,” it concluded.
Monied, educated and successful young people are coupling up with each other in greater numbers than previous generations. Marrying up is less and less likely; interracial dating however is on the rise. The choice of casting British Asian actress Ambika Mod therefore was inspired, reflecting our 21st century reality. According to the 2021 Census, there has been a 25 per cent increase in multi-ethnic households in the UK since 2011.
Perhaps what feels like the most fantastical element of One Day is the fact that Emma manages to get a mortgage in central London in her twenties on a teacher’s salary. Today, the average age of a first time buyer is 34 but this obscures a critical fact: 67 per cent of homeowners in London receive parental support to buy. In the final episode the protagonists sit around talking about house prices – apt for Generation X who were able to purchase assets before the Crash. As much as their youth was about selling out and growing up, it was also about selling up and cashing in.
If anything, One Day should remind us that life for today’s youth is far less fun and carefree. In fact, it’s more pressured and expensive than ever. One Day’s success amongst anyone under 45 isn’t just about nostalgia, but a more visceral pining for a stage where you could mess up, rectify your mistakes, dream, figure out who you are and still afford the basic amenities to mature into adulthood with a roof over your head.
Dr Eliza Filby is a generations expert
