The latest Netflix series you are obliged to binge is "Stranger Things," a rather ordinary creature-feature. It has a big scary monster who makes husky chuffing sounds. It has a frail child with powers. (She stares while lowering her gaze, and cars fly up in the air!) There is a government conspiracy, emotionless scientists in underground labs doing horrible things. Only a dedicated mom (whose son was taken away to an alternate dimension) and a tough cop are standing up to the forces of the dreaded Department of Energy.

Best. Series. Ever. At least if you read the reviews and the message boards. And it is good. Winona Ryder is a convincing madwoman; the kids are good; the tough cop is hungover but dogged, like all great detectives. But those aren't the reasons the show has been so highly praised: It's nostalgia. To be specific, the nostalgic opening credits.

That's what made fans sit up and salivate. Red glowing letters on a black background — like every lousy Stephen King movie you ever saw. A musical score made up of throwback synths playing arpeggios — like every annoying John Carpenter score for the horror flicks he directed.

Those two things spelled '80s to anyone familiar with the horror movies of the Reagan era. When you add spunky kids on bikes in suburbia whose houses are less than tidy, you're in Spielberg territory. The creators were signaling their inspirations — and their intentions: This series will be one long, loving homage to the '80s.

For the most part, they got it right. They captured the look of the early '80s, which was, to be honest, a lot like the late '70s. That's the thing with decades: Nothing changes when the calendar's odometer rolls over to 0. No one says, "It's a new decade! Throw away your furniture and clothing, because it's all different now."

Things do change. The domestic hues of the late '70s — basically, Dirt and Barley — gave way to teal and puce, pink and turquoise. Not everything looked like a "Miami Vice" set, but high '80s style had a sharpness. Interiors looked less cluttered, more geometric. That's the look most set designers use to say '80s, even though it only lasted a few years, and it shared spaces with holdovers from previous decades.

Even the '70s didn't have one look. Some houses were done in Burlap Galore, others had eye-peelingly bright wallpaper pasted everywhere. The '60s weren't all wicker chairs and groovy lamp shades, either. That was the counterculture. Most people's homes were sedate. Scandinavian modern wasn't the dominant look for the '50s. The '30s were more likely to be colonial than moderne. Just as the '20s weren't all sleek Art Deco, but overstuffed and brocaded.

Still, we tend to use the most glamorous style to define a decade. But that's not how it really was.

What makes "Stranger Things" feel authentic early '80s is that it looks horrible.

Will the future be just as confused about the past? Possibly, but for different reasons. Nostalgia is a powerful thing, and every generation has its own touchstones. But our contemporary era isn't defined by clothing and hair and furniture, all of which we borrow from the past and remix. It's defined by momentary memes.

You can sum up the early '80s with a few, broad strokes — boomboxes and cassette tapes, phones on the wall, huge computers with clunky monitors.

Thirty years from now, all you'll need to do to capture 2016 is show people walking around looking at small glass rectangles. You get the feeling that we've stopped changing the look and feel of things, and from now on, progress resembles the explanatory text on your Operating System Upgrade.

In the future, bug fixes and interface enhancements will be nostalgic.

James Lileks • 612-673-7858

@Lileks