The year is 2002. This is how she reminds you. You’re let in for tossed salads and scrambled eggs. Behind her, Ross and Rachel are coy. Carrie Bradshaw is somehow affording Manolos. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic. Wait, is that Mick McCarthy? It shifts. This can’t be real. The internet is on your grotesque phone now. Dublin drinks oat flat whites. We’re older, more bloated and the world has moved on from Haughey. These are undeniable facts. But over the past 18 months, we could have been anywhere. And Hollywood has capitalised.  Near-fatal amounts of nostalgia have drip fed the…

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