Throughout 2025 there was a lot of discourse around the death of cool. Critics argued that culture had become stagnant and that’s why we’ve all been so nostalgic for the last few years. When you look at mainstream culture, that would appear a reasonable assessment. A lot of the music is same-y and risk-averse – even Swifties themselves (arguably the uncoolest fans out there) have been bemoaning their idol’s most recent album for its lack of evolution. The fashion industry faces the same allegations: at festivals (where people would traditionally wear their most subversive and expressive outfits) everyone is cut-out versions of each other. 

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In pop culture, the biggest celebrities are all too rich to have any sense of the real world. Technology feels scary (compared to the hype Apple provoked at the introduction of the iPhone). And our collective humour is based around brain rot and AI-slop. In essence, mainstream culture feels either absurd or boring compared to yester-year, when music had the likes of Prince and fashion, Alexander McQueen.

But, as a 25-year-old working in cultural research, I find that a bit reductive. Instead, I would argue: cool is not dead, it’s just different.

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But the definition of cool has always changed. 

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First when it spread out of the African American jazz scene and into mainstream dialect, shifting it from an artistic defiance of racism into a broader counter-cultural philosophy of rebellion and a youthful search for social change. Then, when it was co-opted by marketeers in the 60s to sell flash cars and clothes, suddenly equating it with the very capitalist forces it was reacting against. Now, you could buy into ‘cool’. 

This formula worked for a while. There was still enough time for cool things to cement themselves before corporate intervention. Music scenes thrived for years before they were noticed by the mainstream. Fashion trends would exist on the fringe before they became popular with early adopters. Good food spots, clubs, bars, neighbourhoods would remain insider knowledge, special to the communities they served, before others caught on. 

It will come as no surprise then, that social media collapsed that process, closing the gap between cool and commodification. As soon as something is identified as cool today, it is thrust into the algorithm, shot into mainstream consciousness and, soon enough, into a marketing strategy. If cool is dead, then this is what killed it. 

If brands could become ‘cool’ that quickly, then what did cool mean anymore? To Gen Z and Alpha, who grew up immersed amongst advertisements, we began to see through this strategy, leading to the devaluation of ‘cool’ – or at least, the devaluation of cool in its most conventional sense. Cool as aloofness and detachment. Cool as knowing the right people and wearing the right things. This was a language anyone could learn and, with a cost of living crisis, a housing crisis, a worsening climate crisis and hopeless political situation, they didn’t feel so meaningful anymore.

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So, what is cool today?

If cool became a language you could learn, then young people today are reacting against that. The coolest thing you can be today is yourself (cue: authenticity buzzword). Strip back the act and show us who you are, even if that is a bit cringe. In some ways, cool has returned to what it used to be: raw talent, political resistance and realness. It’s about being true to yourself but also being true to something; standing up for the things you believe in. That’s cool. Caring about things is cool. Being a nerd is cool. 

And this can be seen in the icons we look up to and the content we engage with. Kareem Rahma’s ‘Subway Takes’ and Joe Bloom’s ‘A View From A Bridge’ are cool because they are based around values of vulnerability, rawness and self-expression. Bad Bunny is cool because he reps his Boricuan identity through everything he does. Similar to Grace Wales Bonner and her respective roots in Jamaica. Seeing artists and celebrities come together and raise money for Palestine and Sudan has been cool (Bella Hadid’s involvement in the campaign has made her far cooler in my eyes). 

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Similarly, the recent popularity of archiving and curatorial events reflects this new definition of cool. In music culture alone, DJs and vinyl selectors that have a specialist knowledge of their collections are revered over those who don’t. There is an emphasis on knowing your history and understanding the context from which your craft is born, with album launches and listening parties becoming increasingly popular. Just this week, Peckham’s Shai Space will be hosting an in-depth exploration of Alice Coltrane’s ‘Journey in Satchidananda’. Meanwhile, online pages such as IDEA, Dust to Digital, artifaxing, There Is No Planet Earth and rudeboysandrollups have gained traction due to their dedication to documenting culture. 

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And what does this all mean for brands? 

Essentially, the same rules that apply to individuals, apply to brands: the new definition of cool is being true to yourself, standing for something and knowing your stuff. 

Being true to yourself:

Young people today are acutely aware of brands that are trying too hard to chase cool. They are also aware that cool, in its purest sense, is the antithesis to commerciality – and so chasing it, as a brand, is a hopeless pursuit. The solution: stop chasing it. Strip back the act and focus on your intended purpose; what brings customers to your service? For Strategy Director Ayo Fagbemi this is why so many brands are harking back to heritage and nostalgia, because it represents a time when they weren’t chasing cool and knew exactly who they were and what made them special. 

Don’t think about engagement through clout, likes and followers, but develop more sustained customer relationships (think about how you might get a few followers to save or share your work). Don’t engage with collabs for collabs sake, but think about effective brand partnerships that genuinely reflect your brand values and serve your audience. Duolongo has done this well. A brand that would never traditionally be thought of as cool has garnered respect for its commitment to education and community-building; its sole and intended purpose, without the frills. 

Standing for something:

Brands that take a stand for what is genuinely good for humanity (at a time when so many forces seem to be working against us) will win. Whether that’s through real community-building, product innovation that improves user experience (and not shareholder benefit) or making a tangible difference to an important cause. This is key. Optics don’t suffice unless they are backed up by cold, hard evidence.  

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Bandcamp has just announced it will be banning AI music on its platform, stating it is "putting human creativity first”, continuing its ongoing mission to support the artists on its platform – and pay them what they deserve. It also runs editorial features on its website (allowing for more in-depth learning) and allows users to curate their own listening experiences without algorithms and suggested playlists. Similar apps like Nina Protocol and Rovr are popping up in the market, again centring human curation, fair pay and community-building. These brands are cool.

Knowing your stuff:

The luxury industry has taken a hit precisely because it relied on logos and hype, but these metrics no longer apply, which is why so many consumers are looking to the second hand market for their products. They need more meaning. Brands that will win in this new world of coolness will put substance before style and status, whether that’s in the craft of their product, story behind it or the depth of engagement it provides to its consumer, like WeTransfer, a file-sharing service that simultaneously acts as a digital creative platform. 

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