Lorde summer is almost here.

Every year, for reasons that aren’t entirely clear but somehow make sense, we have to name the summer. Last year was obviously brat summer—so brat that history books won’t even try to explain it; they’ll just dye the pages neon green and stub out cigarettes on them. The year before belonged to Barbie, though that feels like ancient history now. But this year? We’re on the verge—the edge, the brink—of something new. Open the curtains: it’s Lorde summer.

It all started when the 28-year-old musician—now sporting a beat-up rainbow water bottle as her profile pic across social media—posted a TikTok clip of herself striding through Washington Square Park in a rumpled white shirt and jeans clipped with carabiners, her new song What Was That playing in the background. Then came an impromptu park performance, captured in shaky phone footage, where she danced on a makeshift wooden platform (and honestly? It got me hyped). Now, she’s dropped a music video of her running and biking through New York in that same outfit. The question isn’t what is she running from? but where is she running to, and can we join?

While Lorde summer might share some DNA with brat summer (think: MDMA in the backyard, best cigarette of my life), the vibes are fundamentally different. Brat summer was torn tights, stiletto boots, and strobe lights; Lorde summer is long hair, normcore fits, and a carefree, whimsical energy. It’s breaking your phone and not stressing. It’s meeting a hot guy and never texting him again. It’s leaving the party alone on a Lime bike just because. My colleague Olivia Allen calls it “a muted take on the leftover teen angst that never really left our systems” (she gets it) and “staying out all night because you actually want to.”

Lorde’s age—and her fans’ ages—matter here. We’ve all grown up with her. After the wild hedonism of our early 20s (Melodrama), we hit the barefoot, sober, 12-step skincare phase (Solar Power) in our mid-20s. But late 20s and early 30s? That’s like a second youth—wiser, less miserable. You’re down for the party but not the grimy afterparty. You want fun and romance, not messy situationships. Yeah, you’ll still smoke the occasional cigarette, but you’re not a smoker anymore. And if you want to bring a beat-up rainbow water bottle to the function? Go for it. You’re 28! You do what you want.

I have a theory: we’re never more ourselves than at 17. That’s why so many of our favorite pop songs—including What Was That—obsess over that age (though that’s another conversation). Then we lose ourselves a little before finding our way back around 30 (hello, Saturn Return). That’s the heart of Lorde summer: a second teendom, but with better jeans and a stronger sense of self. Brat summer was fun. Lorde summer? That’s freedom.