The most coveted and glamorous footwear-themed political prizes in the southern hemisphere are back. Give it up for your hosts, Toby Manhire and Ben McKay.
Returning for a record fourth year with a rubber sole, a salty odour and a stubbed toe – give us a blast of ‘My Heart Will Go On’ from your bicycle siren, because this is the official ceremony for the Golden Jandals, 2025.
The Elton John Vase for still standing after all this time
Despite everything, all the leaders of all the parliamentary parties from the start of 2025 remain the leaders of their parties at the end of 2025 (editors pls chk in case of late coup).
The Lily Allen ‘I Thought It Was a Mojo’ Medallion for expectation management
Almost as soon as Christopher Luxon declared 2025 would be “the year of growth” you could hear the ghosts of Jacinda Ardern’s year of delivery cackling.
The Ghost Chips Trophy for ephemeral coalition concessions
The treaty principles bill thought it had this one sewn up, having lived a vivid, multifarious existence for many months after being pronounced dead on arrival. But a late and ultimately successful challenger comes in the shape of the Regulatory Standards Bill. Another fruit of Act bargaining after the 2023 election, this one was passed into law in November and enjoyed a honeymoon of about 10 minutes before New Zealand First, having sung its praises in the House and voted it into the statute books, announced it would campaign against the thing in 2026. National has not ruled out doing the same.
The Undecided Customer at the Picture Framing Shop Prize for is it being mounted or is it not?
In 2025, this one goes to the maybe-spill against Christopher Luxon, which may or may not have been stared down by the prime minister had it been visible, and may or may not have been silenced, had it been more audible than the last letter of coup.
The Wokerati Shield for being obsessed with pronouns
Congratulations to Winston “the Wokester” Peters, who virtue-signalled the snowflake sunshine out of the prime minister on Twitter by correcting his use of pronouns.
The Tonya Harding Award for putting a comeback on ice after a (verbal) assault
Ex-Labour MP Stuart Nash, who flagged a political revival with New Zealand First before defining a woman as a “person with a pussy and a pair of tits”, resigning from his job and disappearing.
The Let Them Eat Bread Hamper for understanding poverty
Christopher Luxon for offering life advice to parents who didn’t like the government’s downscale school lunches: “For God’s sake go and make a Marmite sandwich and put an apple in a bag just like you and I had.”
The Sizzling Mackintosh’s Toffee Award for the hottest-tongued octogenarian in parliament
Another for the trophy cabinet of Winston Peters, who was quick to remind both journalists and Luxon where he sits in the pecking order with a retort of, “I know he’s the prime minister. I made him the prime minister.”
The Jacques Derrida Scroll for metanarrative discourse
In its first iteration, the prospect of a debate between National Party finance ministers past and present suggested an intriguing sectarian contest of political-economic philosophy. Soon the Nicola Willis v Ruth Richardson debate metamorphosed into a debate about a debate, and then into a debate about a debate about a debate, shattering the semiotic piñata and driving the good people of Wellington into a deep spiral of existential despair and abject drunkenness, until finally, in a puff of air, it was gone, an emptiness, a void, nothing at all.
The Drake-Kendrick Trophy for seething rivalry of the year
You might think it’s the two National finance ministers, as above, but you’d be wrong. Close observers of topical matters in New Zealand agree that a poisonous feud is simmering at another level entirely. The Giant Melancholy Kiwifruit (aka the swaying Kiwi Brothers) are said to be incensed by the “ostentatious” and “Johan come lately” performance by the Dancing Ikea Meatball. It could get ugly, and possibly delicious.
The Hot Mike Plate for burnt fingers
After many painful minutes on Newstalk ZB in March, Christopher Luxon finally accepted Mike Hosking’s coaching and said that, yes, he would have sacked chilled-out entertainer and MP Andrew Bayly had he not resigned. Luxon has since clawed his way back into favour, but Hosking may yet decide to sack him and appoint a new prime minister in 2026.
The Beach Boys Award for the act that you thought had quit but seems to be touring for ever and ever
Jacinda Ardern.
The Paul Henry Prize for edgy late-night current affairs content
The First Past The Post Local Government Award for voting like it’s any time before 1996
Local government electors, who installed ancient male mayors in our four biggest cities: Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch and Hamilton.
The Forget 1996, More like 1951 Local Government Award for lowering the tone to the lithospheric mantle
Ray Chung and his pendulous soft breast analysis.
The Gold Asterisk for railing against, in one form or other, things that begin with c and ending in nts
Shared this year between Andrea Vance, Brooke van Velden, Mariameno Kapa-Kingi and David Seymour:
The Memorial Potty for the cruelest cuss of them all
It was raining C-bombs in 2025 (see above). Then there was the day David Seymour was called a dick on air and a jerk in parliament all in the space of an afternoon. But the deepest cuss of them all, the harshest burn, the most stinging expletive was unleashed by Don McGlashan, living musical legend and a gentle soul whose repertoire includes tender love songs about electrical appliances. But when he heard Chris Bishop, mega-minister and Hutt rocker, scoffing during a Stan Walker performance at the music awards, he pivoted mercilessly in his seat and stated: “Shut up, you dickhead.” From a mortal, from you or me, that would be water off the back of a Fur Patrol T-shirt; from McGlashan, devastating.
The Flat White Award for plagiarising Australia
The New Zealand Labour party for its “Medicard” policy, complete with posed grinning shot for the cameras, taken directly from Albo’s thumping election win in May. And then backing it up with a slogan at their party conference: “A Future Made in New Zealand”. What will they copy next? Getting New Zealanders to migrate to New Zealand?
The Wellington Bayesian Award for political candidacy
Craig Renney for sensing the mood in the newly named Pōneke electorate and jumping on in.
The Hmmmmmm Is This Just An Excuse to Revisit the Incredible Todd Stephenson Interview from Last Year Certificate
Todd Stephenson, who couldn’t name a single New Zealand author, who has taken to reading books.
The Deputy Prime Minister of the Year Award
Tough call between David Seymour and Winston Peters. David Seymour gets it this year on account of spending seven months in the job compared to Winston Peters’ measly five.
The Golden Mile Trophy for ram raid of the year
Another one for David Seymour, who drove up the stairs of parliament in the cause of history, charity, and extracting the draconian penalty of a deep, deep sigh from Gerry Brownlee.
The Most Extremely Funny and Cool Gift Superbowl
This one is an easy win for the extremely funny and cool FBI director Kash Patel, appointed by the extremelier funnier and coolest president of us all Donald Trump. Patel visited the plucky little New Zealand capital city Wellington in July and gave security officials the sickest – but in a cool, funny way – present ever: a 3D-printed working replica Maverick PG22 revolver, which was not only cool and funny but also illegal so it was destroyed. Haha yes please!
The This Is Fine Medal for excelling while the inferno burns
Oriini Kaipara pulled off a resounding victory in a Tāmaki Makaurau byelection brought about in the saddest of circumstances. Hana-Rawhiti Maipi-Clarke collected a global Time 100 Next award at a ceremony in New York. Otherwise nothing at all happened in Te Pāti Māori. Silver Jandals to them both.
Silver Jandals
Rubber-up footwear also goes to Chris Bishop for doing everything, everywhere, all at once. To Barbara Edmonds for saying, well, it’s here, actually, in response to the perennial show me the money challenge on capital gains tax. Tanya Unkovich gets a brickbat for quitting out of the blue because she didn’t fancy being an MP any more and also a bouquet for quitting out of the blue because she didn’t fancy being an MP any more. To Steve Abel for bringing poetry to the house of parliament. To Chris Penk for getting on with it.
The Golden Jandal for Politician of the Year
Winston Peters. He travelled the world, visiting more countries than there are countries; returned home to serve up dripping red meat and play the media (and the prime minister) like a hurdy-gurdy. And, despite his shortcomings (dashes of demagoguery, failing to participate in Juggernaut, etc), he goes into 2026 without the slightest worry about pesky things like threshold, against all odds and the laws of physics, riding bareback towards an election in which it is no longer even necessary to utter the grand unified theory of MMP: underestimate Winston at your peril.
