Forget Brat Girl Summer, It’s The Year Of The Bloke

Life changed fast for Tim Walz this summer, when the Minnesota Governor (not exactly unknown, but certainly not well known to most) was announced as Kamala Harris’s running mate for November’s presidential election. His wasn’t a name that had been in the mix, but it was a smart addition to the Democratic ticket, not least because Walz – a former high-school football coach and National Guard vet – reads more regular guy than political elite. He owns a dog called Scout, he jokes (at least, I think it’s a joke) that turkey isn’t meat, he is more at home in plaid shirts, barn jackets and Red Wing boots than the navy blue suits more typically seen on the political class – something the Democrats capitalised on with their tribute HARRIS-WALZ camo cap. He is the archetypal normal dude. Walz is a bloke.

But what do we mean when we say ‘bloke’? Less flashy than a geezer, more grounded than a gent, older than a lad, he’s an uncomplicated, call-a-spade-a-spade normal fella. He is talked about by mates as ‘bloody good’ (the standard positive epigraph for a bloke; see also ‘top bloke’). He drinks pints, follows a football team, he could at a push ‘survive off the land’ for a day or so (but why would he want to, he’s a bloke not a lunatic?). If he owns a gun he is A) American and B) of the huntin’, shootin’, fishin’ subset of blokedom. He is normcore coded without the hipster connotations.

And then, of course, there is one of next year’s most highly anticipated cultural events: the Oasis reunion tour. Having thawed the biggest fraternal feud since Romulus and Remus, Noel and Liam are back in the spotlight – and with it their look. To many theirs is still the look of Northern, working class blokeishness (no matter that they are now camped out in NW postcodes with millions in the bank): parkas, bucket hats, football shirts. Many will try to emulate the Gallagher uniform by the time the tour kicks off, but few will be able to do it with their swaggering, IDGAF attitude. Start with a can of Stella, limited control of your middle finger and see how you go.

But the biggest sign to date of the temperature change in masculinity – or at least how it presents – comes courtesy of another singer: Harry Styles. Parking his frou-frou blouses and feather boas for a more bloke-adjacent look: defiantly bad hair (his an almost-mullet – but see also the Oasis shag), white socks, Umbro hoodie. He’s even going to watch golf tournaments, FFS, which is peak bloke. He wouldn’t look out of place in a ’Spoons. It feels radical now that middle-aged A-listers Daniel Craig and Brad Pitt are unleashing their peacocky, fashion-dude sides.

One important distinguisher of the new bloke from the bloke of old is that he is more emotionally nuanced. He is sensitive and he is unafraid to show it. Look at Walz being frank about his and his wife’s fertility journey, the Gallaghers kissing and making up, Dufrene not being the main breadwinner. One doesn’t imagine Styles has distanced himself from dresses forever – he doesn’t have to. Stone Island didn’t just tap up man’s man Liam for that campaign; DJ Peggy Gou and art fanatic Russell Tovey are also in the mix. Evidence that bloke-pleasing brands don’t only please blokes – or if you want to put it another way, anyone can be a bloke, bloke is an energy.