I HAVE a friend who is robustly stylish and always seems to have her finger on the pulse of all the latest fads. Be it kitchen gadgets, clothes, hairstyles, home decor or technology, I’ve never met the Joneses she’s keeping up with, but they seem like hard taskmasters.

Sadly, her ability to spot a hot new micro trend at a thousand paces has failed to rub off on me. But I still like to know what’s hip and happening, even if I am more likely to be seen wearing a practical cagoule than a chic scarf-coat or oversized blazer (yes, I had to Google “jacket fashions 2024”).

January may be a bleak and barren month for the most part, but it is brightened up immeasurably by the endless slew of weird and wonderful predictions being made for the year ahead. One of my favourites in this vein was compiled by The Washington Post.

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Among the miscellany deemed “out” are pregnancy announcements, hard launches, cottage cheese, disco silver, lofi music, the Roman Empire, abandoning the social media platform X, cargo pants, consumer confidence and football boyfriends.

And “in”? Baby reveals, soft failure, labneh, basic brown, jazz, the Mayan Empire, ignoring the social media platform Threads, peplum, consumer obstinance and tennis husbands.

I have seen a few folk sharing their personal ins and outs for 2024. These include everything from reading every night before bed, solo coffee dates and less screen time (all in) to people-pleasing, downplaying achievements and working for free (all out).

Also considered “in” are hydration, hosting dinner parties and complimenting strangers. Meanwhile, firmly “out” are impulse buying, negative comparisons and fast fashion.

With this in mind, I have started to formulate my own list. In last week’s dispatch, I wrote about not making any traditional New Year’s resolutions, but I do like the idea of setting out some meaningful intentions for the months ahead.

Here’s what I have so far:

In: Slow mornings; saying no; prioritising sleep, community and friendship; living in the present; using weekends to build a life you love; appreciating the tangible (paying cash, old-school photograph albums, libraries, letters in the post); spending time with people who elevate and uplift.

Out: Staying up late; FOMO; mindless scrolling on your phone after 9pm, lone wolf mode; wishing your life away; doing things at weekends that don’t bring joy; living on the internet (banking, online shopping, ever-bulging inboxes); being around energy vampires (soul-sapping folk who drain your lifeblood).

This is not a complete or definitive list - it will continue to evolve, so I won’t be getting a laminated version made just yet - but I reckon it’s a decent start.

And, from boldly looking forward, I will now clunkily segue to a hefty serving of nostalgia. Gladiators returns to our TV screens this weekend. The 1990s entertainment staple, which previously aired on ITV, is enjoying a reboot on BBC.

The Herald: Noel Edmonds and Mr BlobbyNoel Edmonds and Mr Blobby

I was a huge fan of the original run as a teenager. This was a different time; one where deep fat fryers were revered with the same culinary awe that air fryers are today.

I have fond memories of Saturday evenings in front of the telly, tucking into neon-hued, lava-temperature Findus Crispy Pancakes, followed by Wall’s Viennetta (the perfect ice cream pudding to take the edge off the searing burns sustained by guzzling down the main course).

Said feast would be consumed while watching a pantomime battle unfold as a cast of Lycra-clad, pugil stick-wielding Gladiators, bearing glitzy stage names like Lightning, Falcon, Jet, Siren, Hunter, Rhino and Wolf, took on mere mortals with normal names like Paul, Sarah, Dave and Jane.

Each episode involved a series of challenges, such as Hang Tough, Powerball, Gauntlet, Duel and not forgetting the grand finale, the mighty Eliminator obstacle course.

Few things stoke schadenfreude quite like seeing someone flying the wrong way down a travelator. It was the Gladiators’ equivalent of being gunged by Mr Blobby on Noel’s House Party.

So, if you need me at teatime tonight, I’ll be in front of the telly polishing off some Crispy Pancakes (made by Birds Eye these days apparently) and a generous slice of Viennetta for old times’ sake.