We acknowledge the traditional custodians of this land, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation. The University of Sydney – where we write, publish and distribute Honi Soit – is on the sovereign land of ...

We acknowledge the traditional custodians of this land, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation. The University of Sydney – where we write, publish and distribute Honi Soit – is on the sovereign land of ...

We acknowledge the traditional custodians of this land, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation. The University of Sydney – where we write, publish and distribute Honi Soit – is on the sovereign land of ...

Honey Soy. Own-ee Sew-it. Kh-oni Swa. These are but three ways people incorrectly pronounce the name of this publication. How hard is it to pronounce these two four-letter words? How many students ...

We are taught to be hungry. Not just for food, but for more — more success, more beauty, more attention, more everything. Hunger is reframed as ambition, as drive, as something admirable. To want ...

Music critics have always been the big bad wolf for musicians and fans alike. For decades, they’ve always seemingly been ready to chomp at the bit, to rip an artist’s painstaking labour to shreds.

The Ortolan Bunting is a tiny songbird that is subjected to a cruel and grotesque French culinary ritual. The birds spend their lives in dark cages until they are drowned and simultaneously marinated ...

Under Uganda’s molten sun, a brutal civil war is waged, not between humans but between chimpanzees of the Ngogo tribe – a close-knit community that existed in harmony for seventy years. Now, 24 ...

We robbed the children. We robbed them of life, of music, of the seas. We robbed them of their lineage, from their future, from being able to see trees. We robbed the children of experiencing life at ...

As a young girl I was an avid spreader of the gospel of what I liked to call “leaving your heavy ass school bag wherever you damn please”. I loved to go shopping after school and my bag was an ...

Every time I step foot onto a plane, the thought creeps its way into my brain: what if we crash? It sticks with me, as Mitski’s Last Words of a Shooting Star loops on my headphones while I try to fall ...