Ms Lili Göksenin, Senior Editor

Wikipedia defines a jacket vent thusly: “a vertical slit rising from the bottom hem of a jacket or a skirt, generally to allow for ease of movement”. Why, then, do the people of this Earth routinely fail to open the vent upon purchase of a jacket? If you don’t know what I mean then you are either a culprit or not paying enough attention because, baby, this sartorial mistake is everywhere.

Typically, manufacturers will tack down a vent with a single, flimsy diagonal stitch in order to prevent misshaping in stores (some will also sew pockets closed for the same reason). But these tacks are designed to be removed – easily. You’re telling me that you think these tailors spent time and effort on every hem and button and dart and seam and then half-assed the vent with a single stitch? Come on. It just doesn’t make sense. Starting on the 1 January, 2024, I expect, nay, demand this madness end. Or else I will start carrying around a tiny pair of scissors to snip at strangers on the Tube. You have been warned.

Mr Jim Merrett, Chief Sub-Editor

You know what gives me “the ick”? The ick. The concept of the ick. The word “ick”. The definite article of the ick. The idea that you find something that someone else does not just disagreeable, but revolting to a degree that can only be conveyed afterwards, safely behind their back.

From its origin in Ally McBeal to its deployment on Love Island via SpongeBob SquarePants and into the popular lexicon, the ick has in one retching syllable encapsulated the bitter judgement of others that we should all set aside. Especially when, without getting too deep into Dharma, perhaps what really gives you the ick is you. We say: downtick the ick.

Ms Roni Omikorede, Deputy Chief Sub-Editor

Picture this: you’re sat on the couch, bingeing The Queen’s Gambit and suddenly a thought strikes you: “This needs more jazz hands.” Clearly, Beth Harmon’s journey from orphan to chess master isn’t complete without a show-stopping number about the strategic art of pawn advancement.

This is our new reality, where every hit movie, best-selling book and even Ms Gwyneth Paltrow’s ski trial is destined for a musical extravaganza on the stage. Because, you know, nothing says toe-tapping entertainment like a legal dispute on the slopes.

Let’s be real: not every piece of pop culture needs to be transformed into a musical. Some stories just don’t sing. It’s strange enough that we suspend disbelief as someone stops their dialogue to burst into a melody, but there is such a thing as too far. Imagine the musical rendition of your favourite crime show – Murder She Squeezed Into A High Note – featuring heart-wrenching ballads about serial killers and tap-dancing with murder weapons. Not so jolly, is it?

So, as we step into a new year, let’s leave the musical madness behind. Stop making such a song and dance about everything. Some stories are best left alone exactly as they are, to be enjoyed simply as a thread on Twitter (sorry, X), the trial of the century or simply, a book you read.

Ms Emma Pradella, Brand Partnerships and Marketing Editor

Artificial intelligence has slowly but surely been infiltrating almost every aspect of modern life over recent months. From ChatGPT to AI-generated coding tools and even AI-powered stylists and behaviour analysis, it’s been steadily regarded as something that might – one day – replace humans’ ability to critically think and solve problems.

But can it actually do that? The answer, so far, is no. “It’s a poor imitation of human creativity and expression and I honestly don’t think it belongs here,” writes a Reddit user. “AI doesn't even know what it is trying to say. It doesn’t have anything to say,” writes another.

Now, while AI tools might come in handy for some tasks, they’re equally cringe for just as many others (styling being one of them). And though we’re likely to carry some of AI functionalities into the future, we’d be glad to leave the images of our future children – or the AI-generated images of how we looked in our past lives in different time periods – far behind.

Mr Jonathan Dann, Social Community and Creator Partnerships Manager

Very simply: what is the point of buying no-show socks when they end up very much on show, creeping above your shoe line like an inquisitive meerkat? With so many sock shapes available, there really isn’t any excuse for an intentional purchase to look unintended.

You’ve clearly bought them because you’re aware, on some level, that there’s a neat way to do things below the ankle, but you’ve bungled the execution. You may think no one will notice, but these little slivers of white shine out like reflective stripes.

My advice? If you really can’t find any socks that don’t peek out over your shoes, don’t wear any. Instead, apply blister plasters to your feet in the usual rubbing areas and buy some antibacterial shoe spray.

Mr Chris Hall, Senior Editor (Watches, Travel and Luxury)

If you aren’t aware of this – if, as far as you’re concerned, this isn’t “a thing” – then count yourself lucky. It has been a persistent and ridiculous strain of social media nonsense for many years, and my solo efforts to stamp it out have so far been in vain. For the removal of all doubt: yes, there are people who when they dine in a restaurant with a nice watch, feel compelled to place their watch (usually a Rolex) in, or on top of, their meal. As a rule, the more ostentatious the dish (fillet steak, caviar, lobster), the more likely this behaviour.

I had started to tune it out, but a recent, egregious example raised my hackles to Defcon 1: a Thanksgiving turkey, raw and ready to roast, photographed with a Rolex on each leg. I cannot begin to explain the food hygiene issues at play here. Watch bracelets are a hotbed of bacteria at the best of times (clean your watches, people), before you add uncooked poultry into the mix. This whole thing is in bad taste, in every sense, and it needs to stop.