The best Saturday Night Live parody commercials have a hint of truth to them, even at their most absurd. But “Forever 31”—the fake ad that aired during this weekend’s episode hosted by the Abbott Elementary creator and star, Quinta Brunson—felt even more realistic than usual. It was the type of sketch that almost seemed designed to be shared on Instagram by people in their early 30s with the caption “This is so me.”

In the sketch, Brunson and SNL’s female cast members hawked products for a brand called Forever 31, a play on the infamous mall store Forever 21. But instead of the cute going-out tops and flimsy miniskirts you could find at the latter, Forever 31 catered its clothing to exhausted women in their 30s. “Introducing Forever 31, for the woman who’s stylish but tired,” the voiceover explained as Chloe Fineman danced in an oversize sweater and loose pants. “Fun, but not like ‘fun’ fun.”

The clothes at Forever 31 were baggy yet chic basics in “every color of the bummer rainbow,” including gray and beige. Brunson noted there was also navy blue “if you’re feeling skanky.” The collection featured a lot of big suits that recalled the former Talking Heads frontman David Byrne’s famously oversize garb in the concert documentary Stop Making Sense; there were also looks that, as Heidi Gardner said, would “make “Diane Keaton look like a prostitute.”

The aesthetic might have been familiar to those who’ve browsed the offerings of labels like Cos and, at a greater price point, the Row. But the ad also captured the anxiety that comes with leaving your 20s and thinking about what’s ahead—whether that means the decision to freeze your eggs, the future of your relationship, or your parents getting older. Millennials, including several of SNL’s current cast members, are the ones now experiencing that specific unease.

Crucially, SNL understood that these were not the fashions of women who had stopped trying. The clothes were all actually quite stylish, nicely tailored staples for women who have other things on their mind. The look was a marked difference from, say, the “Mom Jeans” parody from 2003, in which the Gen Xers Tina Fey and Amy Poehler hawked high-waisted pants “for even the least active of moms.” By comparison, “Forever 31” wasn’t making fun of the clothing or the women wearing them; the slouchy designs might have been more appealing to the parody’s imagined consumer than what the young and “sexy” Gen Z counterparts have on in the sketch: booty shorts and high heels that evoke the mid-2000s. Many Millennial women would likely recognize them from their own youth—and now cringe at the throwback.

Read: Forever 21’s brief, hideous life

Instead, the humor came from the ad’s relatability. Millennial women have now lived through multiple culture-shocking events: economic collapses, dramatically changing attitudes toward body positivity, the #MeToo movement. Plenty of preoccupations keep them from overanalyzing what they are going to wear every day; although they don’t want to look bad, many women are uninterested in dressing for trendiness over comfort. I’m part of the demographic whose aesthetic the ad is affectionately skewering. I definitely have similar items in my closet—and can attest to their logic. Once I find something I like, I buy it multiple times. I still enjoy a pattern now and then, but I know black is always reliable.

There was also something fitting about having Brunson as the guest star featured in the ad. Brunson proved herself remarkably versatile throughout the episode, playing dissimilar roles such as a horny grandmother and a woman who challenged a gorilla to a fight. But she is best known for her role as the intensely chipper Janine Teagues on Abbott Elementary. Though Janine has a more colorful, school-teacher-appropriate wardrobe, she also embodies the phase of life that “Forever 31” was addressing: She’s confident in her personal style but less confident in her future. The character is a quintessentially Millennial overachiever, just like the women the fake commercial satirized. Ultimately, perhaps the only true issue with “Forever 31” was that it wasn’t advertising a real store. I could go for a Carmen San Diego–esque trench coat.