New Year’s Resolutions have, in recent memory, been quite a straightforward tradition. In a now-infamous scene of the 2001 film adaptation of Helen Fielding’s Bridget Jones’s Diary, Renée Zellweger sits cross-legged on her floor with last night’s smudged eyeliner down her face and yesterday’s underwear stuck to her leg, promising to become a better person. “1) Obviously, will lose 20 pounds,” she writes in her new journal. “2) Always put last night’s pants in the laundry basket. 3) Equally important, will find nice sensible boyfriend to go out with and not form romantic attachments with any of the following: Alcoholics, workaholics, commitment-phobics, peeping Toms, megalomaniacs, emotional f***wits or perverts.”
A long way back from this fictional, but ever relatable, list of betterments, are the originators of the ritual of New Year’s resolutions: the Ancient Romans. Every January, they made annual promises of improvement to Janus, the God of Transitions, in a notably more ceremonial way than Bridget, with prayers, offerings, and public ceremonies. Cut to (the end of) 2025 and the return of intricate pleas to the universe for personal growth appears to be inching ever closer, with the proliferation of the “2026 rebrand” among Gen Z users across social media sites including TikTok, Instagram and Pinterest.
