Month: January 2026

By Lucy Atkinson

There’s something about George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass that feels uncannily British — not the old empire kind of British, but the rain-soaked, quietly resilient, half-resigned version. Released in 1970, the triple album came out just as the country began to feel the slow ache of decline: post-Beatles, post-utopia, post-swinging-sixties London. Even its title felt like an elegy for a fading Britain. 

Fifty-five years later, the sentiment lands harder than ever. All Things Must Pass now plays like a requiem for a country trying to convince itself it’s still special — a soundtrack for the long, unglamorous hangover after the party of empire, of cool Britannia. 

When Harrison wrote All Things Must Pass, he wasn’t being cynical. He was being spiritual. He’d seen the machinery of fame and ego up close and come out the other side searching for something gentler, truer. The song’s calm acceptance of “sunrise doesn’t last all morning” felt like wisdom at a time when Britain still thought the sixties might never end. But in 2025, it sounds more like a prophecy. It seems like the sun’s been setting for a while now. 

Public services are crumbling, rivers are filling with sewage, and politics has become performance art for bitter men with microphones. Reform UK gains traction by promising renewal but selling racial resentment; Labour promises competence, not hope, yet fails to deliver on both. Everyone’s tired, and the rain keeps falling. 

Harrison’s voice, patient and forgiving, may hum through the noise like a counterpoint: It’s not always going to be this grey. But yet, it is — for now. 

Britain has always excelled at melancholy. We make poetry of drizzle and drama of decline. From The Waste Land to The Crown, we aestheticise decay until it almost looks romantic. Harrison, though, wasn’t interested in performance. His melancholy wasn’t self-pitying; it was cleansing. He offered resignation not as despair, but as liberation, which is a lesson the modern political class could use. Today’s leaders — Farage shouting from a pub, ministers performing contrition on breakfast TV — cling to power like it’s still 2012, still possible to summon optimism with a slogan. “Levelling Up” has become a punchline; “British values”, a meme. 

Harrison would have recognised this noise for what it is: pure ego. 

Beware of Darkness, one of the album’s most haunting tracks, could be mistaken for a sermon to the electorate. “Beware of greedy leaders / They take you where you should not go.” In 1970, that might have sounded like Eastern mysticism. In 2025, it’s practically the daily news cycle. 

The album was partially recorded at Friar Park, Harrison’s eccentric gothic estate, and the iconic album cover was shot there — half-mansion, half-monastery. The walls, lined with gargoyles and silence, gave him the distance to write a work of self-reflection, something Britain rarely manages. Today, the country feels like it’s still living in that house — ornate, damp, haunted by the past. We’ve filled the rooms with nostalgia: wartime mythologies, royal weddings, Great British Bake-Offs. It’s charming, but it’s also claustrophobic. Every institution, from Parliament to the BBC, feels like it’s decaying in slow motion.

Harrison’s mantra — all things must pass — isn’t just an observation; it’s an instruction. Empires fall. Economies falter. Cultures shift. The task isn’t to stop it happening, but to let it happen, and then begin again. 

But Britain doesn’t let go. We polish the relics instead. 

But for one moment, imagine if we actually took Harrison seriously — if the country released its grip on the fantasy of exceptionalism. Reform UK wouldn’t exist; it depends on the illusion that decline is reversible, that we can simply vote our way back to the 1950s. Nor would the endless nostalgia industry that props up our media — the monarchy, the Blitz spirit, the Beatles themselves — work without the promise that the past can be restored. 

Harrison’s message was the opposite: transcendence through impermanence. Growth through surrender. The idea that endings aren’t failure, but natural order, and maybe that’s the radical politics we need now — not rage, not revival, but acceptance. To look honestly at what’s rotting and stop pretending it can be repainted. 

Listening to All Things Must Pass in 2025 Britain feels like stepping outside the chaos for a moment. The songs drift like prayer — full of humility, humour, resignation. Harrison’s slide guitar sounds like light breaking through fog. It’s an album that insists, even amid decay, on grace. 

And perhaps that’s the hope we’re left with. Not a new golden age, but a quieter one — where kindness outlasts the slogans, where humility replaces bluster, where we stop shouting about greatness and start doing small good things. 

Because if Harrison was right — if all things must pass — then this too will. The populism, the cruelty, the endless decline. The question is what we’ll build in the silence that follows. 

Until then, the rain keeps falling. The records keep spinning. And somewhere, faintly, George Harrison’s voice reminds us: 

“All things must pass away.”

Featured Image: Barry Feinstein

By Sam Unsworth

It is a more than well-known fact that there is simply nothing new in fashion; all is a rehash upon rehash of older ideas, cuts, and silhouettes- with the exception perhaps of fabric. Nonetheless, it is still interesting to examine the comparisons we can draw with the past and how these may hint at the ways in which fashion may evolve in the future. This article will focus on men’s fashion with all the authority of someone who watches too many films, looks at too many clothes, and picks up some of Hardy Amies’ books from time to time. In my opinion, the 1930s arguably saw the peak of the suit. Focused on both style and practicality, the thirties flowed with softness and ease of wear in its fashion. Broad shoulders and well-fitting garments designed to exude confidence and effortlessness, and most importantly, simplicity. This, I believe, is seeing a revival in the style of the everyday man’s wardrobe, as well as among stars on red carpets across the globe. 

The first thing that occurred to me was what YouTuber James Leung refers to as the “2025 uniform”. This, as one is probably aware, tends to involve larger, wide-legged trousers paired with a well-cut t-shirt and some form of polished boot or shoe. Now, how exactly does this reflect the 1930s? Well, the ease of this type of outfit and the emphasis on basic, comfortable clothing are clear indicators. If we were to examine the suits common in early 1930s Germany, we would encounter loose-fitting trousers that flowed neatly down from the waist, usually accompanied by pleats. These loose trousers permitted a clean break above the shoe, a feature often mirrored in contemporary fashion. This, however, was not restricted to Germany- rather reflecting a shift toward practicality within men’s fashion in a post-Wall Street crash world where men would have less time for leisure and would look to own curated items that would last comfortably, whilst also retaining some of the finery of the 1920s. 

Furthermore, the influence of The Great Depression saw an increase in workwear being utilised more openly- with the serial production of French chore coats by the likes of Le Laboureur and Vetra, allowing working-class fashion to evolve further in Europe (If you want to know more about Le Laboureur, I would recommend Albert Musquiz’s YouTube channel). In the USA, there was also a boom in workwear fashion, with Levi’s and Carhartt gaining nationwide prominence with the emergence of the first Carhartt jacket, the “Engineer Sack Coat,” in 1925. Workwear in fashion is not restricted to the 2020s; however, there is a clear increase in the sourcing of pre-loved or softened workwear for incorporation into the fashion world, which has led to online trolling of individuals for ironically having “soft hands” while donning traditional workwear, arguably demeaning and accessorising its blue-collar roots. US workwear appears to be in high demand at present, consistent with a broader pattern of US influence, particularly through film stars, celebrities, and social media influencers. 

A key focus must also be placed on the cut of suits and trousers. Gone are the days of oversized and baggy apparel; people instead want well-fitted clothing that accentuates their bodily features most prominently from the waist up – perhaps aligning with an increased focus on health and fitness within influencer circles. In the earlier example of the t-shirt and larger trousers, there is a clear distinction between being ‘larger’ and being ‘baggy’. These large trousers still sit tightly at the waist, usually in a high-to-medium waist fit. Notably, these trousers often do not require a belt to cinch any excess material; instead, an increasing number of designers are reverting to systems such as English side straps or Gurkha waistbands. This is well modelled by the likes of actor Jacob Elordi, who often wears double-breasted suits that reinforce 1930s-style motifs. As such, the cut of these trousers appears to model that of the 1930s, with larger yet well-fitted garments that accentuate one’s waist whilst also adding volume to the legs. On a personal note, I believe this is a welcome step away from the tight Tom Ford suits of the 2010s, which I, for one, hope do not come back into fashion. 

Finally, a note on t-shirts and jackets. In this case, I will use Mutimer as an example. Currently,  Mutimer is really the driving brand in men’s fashion beyond the runway, with sleek silhouettes that lend themselves to everyday use and styling, offering a sense of effortlessness whilst also retaining a put-together look. Hardy Amies famously wrote, “A man should look as if he has bought his clothes with intelligence, put them on with care and then forgotten all about them,” and I believe this to be clear within Mutimer’s brand vision. They recently released a new T-shirt labelled “The Jagger T-shirt”, faithful to the cut and shape of its namesake, Mick Jagger, yet adopting shorter sleeves and a tighter fit- it does away with the boxy tees popularised by skate fashion, instead aligning with the 2025 uniform, accentuating your features with a simple, unabashed silhouette. Much like the fit of Marlon Brando’s t-shirt in Streetcar. This can also be seen in jackets; the Mutimer leather jacket, conveniently always sold out, features a cropped fit typical of most biker jackets, yet also contributes a snug waist reminiscent of military styles of the late 30s and 40s, such as the No.5 battledress or General Jim Gavin’s modified officers’ jacket. 

There are many comparisons to draw, but I believe that overall, a 1930s style revival is totally beneficial to men’s fashion as it blends practicality, comfort, and elegance, in turn allowing the wearer to curate a more long- lasting wardrobe not driven by fast fashion but rather by timeless classics which focus more heavily on fit rather than flair. 

Image credit : The Telegraph