In the end, the Daylabay Swimwear DVD is a ghost. It haunts the crackle of a CRT TV in a boarded-up surf shop. It’s the 4:3 aspect ratio of nostalgia for a summer that never happened. We don’t miss the swimwear. We miss the promise that a piece of shiny plastic could contain a perfect, frictionless world—one where the sun always hangs at golden hour, the water is always 78 degrees, and no one ever has to click "Skip Intro."