Homecoming feels: letter from the editor

I’M WRITING THIS as all good editors’ letters are written: late, tipsy and thousands of miles in the air. I am on a flight to Bangkok and then London because, dear reader, I am going home. After 10 years living in Australia, it’s finally time for my wife and me to pack up and return to the UK. Yes, we have made the brave, and somewhat inexplicable, decision to leave behind the sun and laidback lifestyle in search of incessant rain and warm beer. It’s a move that even my friends in London are puzzled about. After all, we’ve loved our time Down Under. Contrary to the stereotype of Brits living in Sydney, we were able to build a life that involved more than just weekends at the Coogee Pavilion. Messy, fulfilling and, now and again, challenging, it’s felt at times like an extended holiday. But all good things must come to an end. While thoughts of cold mornings waiting for the Northern Line may drive me to order another drink, London and the UK are still home – and no amount of sunrises on Bondi Beach will ever replace that feeling.

It seems fitting that my final issue of Esquire Australia is covered by The Kid LAROI, a young man who has recently gone through a homecoming of his own. Having moved to LA at the age of 15, Laroi has spent the past six years becoming one of the biggest pop stars in the world. Then, last year, he returned to Australia in triumphant fashion, selling out a stadium tour, giving the keynote address at SXSW and performing at the NRL Grand Final halftime show. But it’s perhaps the work he has been doing away from music that will define his legacy more profoundly. Alongside his tour, Laroi quietly opened a youth foundation in partnership with Headspace.

“One thing that’s really important to me is mental health amongst youth,” he told me in our cover interview late last year. “I have obviously gone through a lot of different mental health stuff myself and I’m just kind of figuring out ways that I can continue to help in any way that I can and with the resources that I have.”

The youth foundation, the tour, the simmering success of his recent album – even the more sophisticated sartorial style we see on the cover – are all part of a new chapter for The Kid LAROI. More comfortable with his responsibilities and confident in his abilities, he tells me he’s never felt more free. For this reason, also, he felt like the perfect choice to front this music-themed issue of Esquire, featuring a selection of Australia’s best and most promising artists.

As I enter my own period of change, I, too, have been feeling reflective. Ahead of my final issue, as I have with each issue of this magazine over the past two years, I have asked myself this question: what does Esquire mean, today, and how can we, as editors, either celebrate or challenge emerging narratives in society right now? I wonder if, in 2025, our times have more in common with those of our founding editors than ever before. The inaugural issue of Esquire went on sale four years after the start of the Great Depression as a dangerous form of populist nationalism started to take root in Europe. False prophets exploited the hard times, claiming they alone held the key to prosperity. More than 90 years on, in some ways, little has changed. Shouting the loudest gets you heard and truth has become a thing to be bent to your will.

The so-called ‘strongmen’ in power will have us believe a world view that is fixed; rooted, often, in the past. But, as we have attempted to portray in the pages of this magazine, the truth is a little more messy. Life, just as I’ve come to realise with Esquire, is at its best when seeking contributions from all corners. It’s about challenging extremes and accepting contradiction; the comforting embrace of the familiar mingled with the promise of something new. It feels, in other words, a lot like coming home.

I hope you enjoy this issue from the comfort of yours.