Debut novels, pollerskate, the toppling of fascism – as far as New Year’s resolutions are concerned, tmrw has the whole spectrum nailed. Check out below what our writers, editors and photographers plan to achieve in 2017.
Squat while brushing teeth, wear the new killer coat with confidence, say more things aloud. 2017 will be the year that I turn 21, and (hopefully) graduate (rumour has it, Lenny Henry will be on that stage with me, so I can’t miss that Instagram opportunity). I vow to take these further steps into adulthood, with excitement more than nerves. I am guilty of always thinking the grass is greener, a guilty pessimist whose glass always… needs topping up. My 2017 resolution is to be good to me, and worship Zara Larsson’s tweets as a guide.
In short: paint more paintings, take more pictures, do more good. But, I really ought to stop biting my nails at 23…
New Year’s resolutions always remind me of how much shit I don’t actually do. Going from my latest list of aspirational achievements, I’m an out-of-shape, monolingual technophobe who doesn’t read, watch or travel enough, mainly due to his habit of leaving extremely important tasks to the very last minute. Perhaps this is why I always enter the New Year crying, or throwing up. My new year’s resolution for this year is to enter 2017 doing neither of those things. If I can get that nailed, perhaps the other hurdles will fall accordingly. Then I can concentrate on toppling fascism.
Graduate university. Either graduate with a first, or graduate in general. But mainly look as fierce as I think I do in my head in the power suit I’m wearing on the day. But if that fails, become the grime queen I think I am.
My resolution for 2017 is to gradually ween myself off of Blonde. Seriously, it’s a problem. I can’t stop listening to it. I’m struggling to work out where the lyrics end and my thoughts begin. I need to find myself some Frank Ocean Nicolette patches.
In 2016 I resolved to take up pole dancing classes (or ‘pole fitness’ if you want to be coy about it) as part of a personal agenda to do more fun things. Now that I have vaguely (not really) mastered contorting my limbs around a spinning pole, I intend to dig out my roller skates for 2017 and try out a variation of the sport now being offered at my local pole studio – ‘pollerskate’ (yep, it’s a thing).
2017 will be the year I graduate from university, so obviously I would really like it if I did actually graduate. In a way, the next year will be the biggest jump of my life; I won’t have the safety net of education (or the Welsh government’s loan grant, god bless) and, to be perfectly honest with you, I have no fucking clue what I want to do with my life, apart from write. So some guidance on that front would be much appreciated, or I’ll have to resort to writing a self-published erotic novel and just hope for the best.
2017 will be the year of sass. I’m talking Solange sass. Creative sass which will touch every aspect of my life and those who I meet. I want to feel more, do more, see more (without being too Pinterest) end embrace my younger years. Watch out, world – Claude ain’t holding back.
Happy New Year.
Words by HQ