Born in 2012

Back in 2012, there was this strange, shimmering sense that Britain was actually the centre of the universe for once. It felt like we’d finally shaken off the winter slush when the Olympic torch started its zig-zagging journey across the country, and suddenly everyone was outside, cradling a lukewarm bottle of Magners or a Kopparberg while the sun actually decided to stay out. We were all obsessed with Bradley Wiggins’ sideburns and his Tour de France win, and don't get me started on the Super Saturday high—sitting in front of a bulky telly, shouting at Greg Rutherford or Mo Farah until our voices gave out.

If you weren't humming 'Gangnam Style' or whistling Gotye’s 'Somebody That I Used to Know', you were probably arguing about the *Sherlock* cliffhanger or watching *The Great British Bake Off* back when it felt like a cozy secret. The kids were obsessed with Moshi Monsters and those neon Silly Bandz, while the rest of us were queuing at the cinema for *Skyfall* or *The Avengers*. It was a year of street parties for the Jubilee, bunting everywhere, and feeling like we were all part of one big, slightly chaotic, very proud family—even if we were mostly just happy that it finally stopped raining for the 100-metre final.