Cooling Off: The new definition of cool
Cool isn't dead. It's just different. We take a look at how the definition of cool has always been in flux, and how it is manifesting in culture today.
Throughout 2025, there was a lot of discourse around the death of cool. Critics argued that culture had become stagnant, which is why we’ve all been so nostalgic over the last few years. When you look at mainstream culture, that would appear to be 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.
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 generated at the iPhone’s introduction). And our collective humour is based around brain rot and AI-slop. In essence, mainstream culture feels either absurd or boring compared to yesteryear, 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.
The definition of cool has always changed.
First, when it spread beyond the African American jazz scene into mainstream discourse, shifting from artistic defiance of racism to a broader countercultural philosophy. Then, when it was co-opted by marketeers in the 60s to sell flash cars and clothes, equating it with the very capitalist forces it was reacting against. 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 first appear on the fringe before becoming popular with early adopters. Good food spots, clubs, bars, and 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 a hopeless political situation, they didn’t feel so meaningful anymore.
So, what is cool today?
If cool were a language you could learn, young people today would be reacting against it. 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 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 Jamaican roots. 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).
Similarly, the recent popularity of archiving and curatorial events reflects this new definition of cool. In music culture alone, DJs and vinyl selectors with specialist knowledge of their collections are revered over those who don’t. There is an emphasis on understanding your history and the context in 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 for their dedication to documenting culture.
What can we learn from this?
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: strip back the act and focus on your intended purpose.
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 collab’s sake, but think about effective brand partnerships that genuinely reflect your brand values and serve your audience. Duolingo 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.
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. 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:
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, the 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.





