The traditional artform of henna – applying intricate and floral designs to the hands and body in natural inks – is seeing vivid new life as a means of progressive social and political expression, led by a wave of young designers and artists

The night before Eid, plastic chairs line the pavements of busy British high streets from London to Bradford. Women sit elbow-to-elbow beneath shopfronts, hands outstretched as artists swirl cones of henna into intricate curls. For £5, you can walk away with both palms blooming. Once confined to weddings and living rooms, this centuries-old ritual has spilled out into public spaces – and today, it’s being reimagined entirely.

In recent years, henna has travelled from family homes to the red carpet – from actor Michaela Coel’s Sudanese motifs at the Toronto film festival to Katseye singer Lara Raj’s henna decor at the 2025 Video Music awards. Younger generations are using it as art, political expression and cultural affirmation. Online, the appetite is increasing – UK searches for henna reportedly rose by nearly 5,000% last year; and, on social media, creators share everything from faux freckles made with henna to five-minute floral design tutorials, showing how the dye has adapted to modern beauty culture.

This year marks a century since the birth of the photo booth, and friends and families are still squeezing into them for fun and unflattering snaps - capturing the highs, lows and loves of their lives

I didn’t find early motherhood easy. It wasn’t my daughter’s fault – she was, mercifully, a wonderful and cheerful baby – but I underestimated what a huge shift it would be at an already stressful time. When I was pregnant, we moved to a new town, to a wreck of a house we planned to do up. My mum, who was ill, moved in with us, and then I was the carer of a newborn and a dying parent – at the two extremes of life, but sharing many of the same needs, and often at the same time.