Dearly Beloved: What to Gift Newlyweds This Wedding Season

Wedding season is upon us, so we asked the duo behind the digital wishing well platform WEDIT to share their shopping list for loved-up couples.

Article by Victoria Pearson

WEDDING GIFTS_HEROWEDIT's guide to wedding season gifting.

In Australia, the months between September and May are known colloquially as the “warmer half of the year”. For approximately 134,370 engaged couples, however, it’s better known as “wedding season”: the preferred period in which to tie the knot.

Much has shifted in recent decades in the way of wedding formalities. The Covid-19 pandemic saw an acute rise in micro weddings – a trend that has lingered long after lockdown restrictions eased. Bridal looks are more varied, venues are more personal, and invitations are increasingly digitally distributed.

Gifting, too, has joined the digital age – a market that the founder of Nina Ma’Belle Weddings, Nina Ma’Belle Wiener, and the branding consultant Tatiana Farley, have worked to corner through their online platform WEDIT. Designed to elevate the wishing well trend by securely processing cash gifts and group gifts, Ma’Belle Wiener and Farley say that hosts are receiving up to 85 per cent more than the value of the gift they asked for by removing the friction points of cash gifting.

As we barrel into the thick of 2023/24 wedding season, we asked Ma’Belle Wiener and Farley to share the top gifts they’d be adding to their gift registries for soon-to-be-wed couples.


Le Corbusier Mohair Blanket

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Tekla Le Corbusier Mohair Blanket. Photograph courtesy of Tekla.

Luxurious and tactile, Tekla’s mohair blanket is crafted with premium rose-hued mohair and wool blend, ensuring softness and durability. Inspired by Le Corbusier’s Architectural Polychromy, its original shades and handmade tassels add a touch of sophistication. Each limited edition blanket is uniquely numbered, enclosed in an organic cotton dust bag for an elegant finish. $1,165.


Defender Green Towel

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Cleverly Defender Green Towel. Photograph courtesy of Cleverly.

Cleverly’s ultra-soft towel is a premium addition to your bathroom. Crafted from 100 per cent Greek cotton, its quick-dry terry offers a luxurious twist on standard sets. With extra-long loops for enhanced texture, it’s made of long-staple cotton, ensuring a smooth touch. The generous proportions, secure ‘tuck,’ tailored finish, and mid-weight 400gsm make it both cozy and quick-drying. Eco-dyed and OEKO-TEX® certified, it’s responsibly made in Portugal for that ‘just married’ sophistication. From $41.00.

Victoria Myer

Pendulum Lamp in Caramel

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Victoria Myer Pendulum Lamp in Caramel. Photograph by Victoria Myer.

The Pendulum lamp, with its tall, angular base reminiscent of a swinging pendulum, brings a distinctive touch to any living space. Its large scale adds impactful elegance, and the oversized statement parchment shade emits a warm ambient glow. Designed for sophistication, it works seamlessly as a pair on either side of a sofa, between armchairs, or angled in a corner. $1,800.00.

Sophie Davies

Bella Urn

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Sophie Davies Bella Urn. Photograph courtesy of Sophie Davies.

The classically inspired Bella Urn exudes elegance and simplicity, crafted through a combination of scale, curvaceous form, and refined materiality. Handcrafted by skilled artisans in Melbourne, Australia, each urn undergoes a meticulous process, from pouring into molds to drying, sanding, and buffing. The result is a silky smooth finish with a natural plaster patina, showcasing the urn’s timeless beauty. $2,420.00.


2 Low-Step E-Bike

wedding gifts_vela
Vela 2 Low-Step E-Bike. Photograph courtesy of Vela.

The Vela 2 electric bike seamlessly blends classic beach cruiser aesthetics with modern technology. Its easy-to-maintain motor offers three driving modes, reaching a top speed of 20 miles per hour. With a hidden, removable battery for convenient charging and a 40-mile range, the bike provides versatile commuting options. The boost button on the handle adds extra power for uphill pedalling or restarting after a stop, making the Vela 2 a stylish and enjoyable choice for both office commutes and weekend neighbourhood cruises. From approximately $2830.


Small Jewellery Roll in Panama

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Smythson Small Jewellery Roll in Panama. Photograph courtesy of Smythson.

The Panama small jewellery roll is a stylish honeymoon companion for those who appreciate elegance. Crafted in signature crossgrain leather with a lush eucalyptus green hue, it offers a secure space for trinkets. The nubuck interior, three zipped pockets, and dedicated ring and earring holder ensure organisation. Inspired by the iconic Panama diary, this lightweight and hard-wearing calf leather merges form and function seamlessly. Travel in style and keep your treasures safe with this Smythson creation. $340.

Can a New Genre of Eco-Thrillers Inspire Climate Action?

Fighting the apocalypse is a timeworn movie trope. But in an era of environmental catastrophe, some filmmakers are creating more down-to-earth heroes.

Article by Ella Riley-Adams

21-TMAG-ECO-THRILLERS-3The actor Forrest Goodluck plays Michael, a self-taught bomb maker, in “How to Blow Up a Pipeline.” Photograph courtesy of Neon.

In the forthcoming film “Mother Nature,” co-written by the actress Jamie Lee Curtis, several women in Catch Creek, N.M., fight back against Cobalt, an oil extraction company that’s overtaken their fictional town. Among them is Nova, who, as a child, watched her father get crushed by an oil derrick. Now in her 20s, she’s devoted her life to sabotaging the firm as it promotes a dubious water-cleaning technology. On Aug. 8, Titan Comics published a graphic novel adaptation in which one character resembles Curtis; in addition to directing the film, the actress, 64, plans to eventually play Cynthia Butterfield, the Cobalt heir.

The project grew from a vision Curtis had at 19: After a piece of gravel hit her car’s windshield, she pictured a body being pummeled with tiny rocks during a wind storm; she imagined a mountain had been blown apart to create a tunnel, and that the wounding of the land would incite a series of natural disasters “until you rectified the situation,” she says, “until you stopped and repaired.”

The cover and a page from the graphic novel “Mother Nature” by Jamie Lee Curtis, Karl Stevens and Russell Goldman. Curtis intends to direct and star in the film version. Courtesy of Mother Nature © Blumhouse Productions, LLC.

The time for such repair is, of course, short. As the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change wrote in March, “There is a rapidly closing window of opportunity to secure a livable and sustainable future for all.” (In the United States, carbon emissions rose last year.) We’ve heard it before: Unless we change course imminently, we — and countless other species — will die.

Impending doom lends itself to suspenseful onscreen narratives yet, when it comes to environmental disaster, such stories have typically created distance between the viewer and the catastrophes depicted: Think of Adam McKay’s “Don’t Look Up” (2022), a satire in which an asteroid hurtling toward Earth becomes a metaphor for the climate crisis, leaving audiences about as apathetic as the majority of its characters. We’ve seen lots of fictional fallout after ecological calamity, from the second coming of the Ice Age in “The Day After Tomorrow” (2004) to the fungus-spurred zombie chaos of “The Last of Us” (2023) — both dystopias too exaggerated to imagine as our own. Other quieter dramas use a small town to represent a larger problem, notably “Erin Brockovich” (2000) but, more recently, “Promised Land” (2012), about fracking in rural Pennsylvania and “Dark Waters” (2019), based on the real-life lawyer who exposed DuPont’s toxic waste dumping in West Virginia. Situations like these regularly occur, and yet these films make them seem like stories happening elsewhere, ones that can only be rectified by a hometown hero.

From left: Dakota Fanning, Jesse Eisenberg and Peter Sarsgaard in the 2013 film “Night Moves,” directed by Kelly Reichardt. Photograph courtesy of Tipping Point Productions.

It’s a tough brief: making an eco-focused movie that people want to watch, while also inspiring engagement with an issue that feels too intractable to face. Yet a new genre is emerging — the environmental action film, or eco-thriller — that addresses the conundrum of climate anxiety by applying the tropes of a heist flick to the mission of curbing the consumption of earth’s resources. Such works bring us to the edge of our seats, making us wonder: Can these people succeed in securing our future? And then, perhaps, can we?

In “How To Blow Up a Pipeline” (2022), a group of 20-somethings assemble in West Texas to do what the title says. As we watch them build bombs, we learn how their lives have been destroyed by the fossil-fuel industry (Xochitl’s mother died in a freak heat wave; Dwayne and his family were forced to move after an oil company claimed eminent domain). The film’s writers, Ariela Barer, Daniel Goldhaber and Jordan Sjol, based their script on the Swedish human-ecology researcher Andreas Malm’s 2021 book of the same name. They were also influenced by “If a Tree Falls” (2011), a documentary about the environmentalist group Earth Liberation Front and, less expected, “Ocean’s 11” (2001), starring Brad Pitt and George Clooney as casino robbers.

The film “How to Blow up a Pipeline” is based on Andreas Malm’s 2021 book. Photograph courtesy of Verso Books.
In the 2018 film “Woman at War,” the protagonist evades surveillance by hiding in glacial caves and sheep carcasses. Magnolia Pictures.

This time, however, our protagonists aren’t flashy or even talented, just fed up. In the Icelandic film “Woman at War” (2018), Halla, a 50-year-old choir teacher played by Halldóra Geirharðsdóttir, spends her off hours pulling down power lines that fuel a nearby aluminum smelter. (Jodie Foster plans to direct and star in an upcoming English-language adaptation, set in the American West.) Another forerunner in which ordinary people take on Big Pollution is Kelly Reichardt’s “Night Moves” (2013), featuring a trio of beleaguered Oregonians — a spa worker (Dakota Fanning), a farmer (Jesse Eisenberg) and an ex-Marine (Peter Sarsgaard) — who team up to explode a hydroelectric dam. In each of these movies, the villain isn’t some evil mastermind but an industrial force going about business as usual.

Despite following big-budget formulas — the tension rises as the characters race to execute their plans — these are women-centered independent films in which tactical logistics are interwoven with imagery of the landscape that’s at risk: Halla hides between dripping glaciers; the “Pipeline” characters are tiny against the broad, brown desert. In contrast to eco-horror films of the past that pit humans against the mysterious, malevolent force of nature (like M. Night Shyamalan’s “The Happening” [2008] or Alex Garland’s “Annihilation” [2018]), here it’s the familiarity that’s ominous. “Everything I’ve written — black ice, hurricanes, tornadoes, hailstorms — it’s happening,” Curtis says. “You can amplify the visuals in a movie but it’s all [there], all the time now.”

We know now that the climate crisis can’t be fixed by measuring our personal carbon footprints or planting trees to compensate for our commutes. But we still crave being part of a collective human solution to what we’ve wrought. Barer and her co-writers started working on their movie during the pandemic, feeling “totally disempowered,” says the 24-year-old actress, who also stars in it. When the group decided to adapt Malm’s book, “Suddenly it felt like there was something we could do, rather than sitting around with our hands tied waiting for an industry to reform.” That’s the real thrill of watching these films: not whether the protagonists are taking the right approach, nor whether they succeed, but the satisfaction that comes with seeing them try something, anything, as the world burns.

A Collection of Flower-Dyed Linens and Swirled Glassware

Host the ultimate springtime affair with Upstate’s curation of hand-dyed napkins and tablecloths.

Article by Amy Fang

22-TMAG-FRENCH-HOTEL-4Upstate’s Avalon collection, designed by Kalen Kaminski and styled here by the chef Woldy Kusina, includes an array of glassware, raw silk napkins and table linens. Courtesy of Upstate, photographed by Gentl and Hyers.

For her latest tableware collection, the designer and prop stylist Kalen Kaminski drew inspiration from a 200-year-old schoolhouse. Kaminski, who started her home and clothing line, Upstate, in 2011, purchased the Berkshires building after becoming enamoured with its open floor plan and history. “I’ve always loved the idea of living in a space that was not intended to be a home,” she says. Its former occupant, the Avalon School, provided the collection its name, while the seasonal hues of the forest surrounding the property are soaked into its colourways. Napkins and tablecloths are hand-dyed with natural materials such as tree bark, madder root, cochineal and marigold flowers sourced from the Seattle-based dye house Botanical Colors. The glassware, ranging from stackable wine glasses to pitchers with swirls of burgundy, pink, yellow, purple and green, is handmade by glassblowers in Brooklyn. Later this month, Kaminski will host a dinner at her Chinatown studio in celebration of the launch with a meal by the chef Woldy Kusina, who’s known for his colour-saturated Filipino cuisine, and the photographer and chef Andrea Gentl, who recently published the book “Cooking With Mushrooms.” On the menu: slices of seasonal summer tomatoes sprinkled with edible flowers served on pink glass platters and mushroom margaritas poured from bulbous lavender-and-green pitchers. From approximately $50,

For Nike, the Women’s World Cup Has Been It’s Biggest Bet Yet

The brand’s Asia Pacific Latin America Vice President and General Manager, Cathy Sparks, talks World Cup fever, Sam Kerr and Nike’s mission to be the biggest champion on women.

Article by T Australia

Matildas Nike_1Image courtesy of the Commbank Matildas.

For Cathy Sparks, the commitment to sportswear giant Nike was forged as early as her teenage years.  “I had an aspiration in college, might even be back to high school, to always wear the brand,” she says during a recent trip to Australia. “I wasn’t a huge team sport athlete, but really into fitness and health and play tennis and from the south rode horses.”

In college, Sparks studied marketing, taking note of Nike’s strategy in the field. “I started paying attention to this brand that was talking to women in a way that I hadn’t seen other brands do,” she says. “It just struck me as emotional, and brilliant, and very different from what I was seeing other companies do.” Sparks recalls flipping through a fashion magazine and tearing a full-page Nike ad from its pages. “I still have the ad, it’s hanging in my office. And I said, ‘I’m going to work for this company’.”

When most students departed for Florida’s beaches for spring break, Sparks took the advice of her mentors and started a retail position at a Nike store. “I loved it. I didn’t actually think I’d have a career in retail for so much of my Nike career. But I truly loved being so close to the consumer.”

Fast forward to 2023 and Sparks was recently appointed Nike’s Asia Pacific Latin America Vice President and General Manager, a new chapter in a 25-year career with the brand. According to Sparks much remains the same – Nike’s commitment to empowering female athletes – though a lot has also changed. The brand’s financial investment in this year’s FIFA Women’s World Cup, for example, has increased by an undisclosed figure, and it’s a bet that’s paid off. Prior to the Matildas’ first game in the championship, the Australian women’s team reportedly sold more official jerseys than the men’s team sold during (and since) their tournament last year.

Here, Sparks sits down with T Australia to discuss Nike’s support of the Women’s World Cup, the Athlete Think Tank, and the products designed to support the athlete in every woman.

Nike Women_1
Image courtesy of Nike.

How has the perception, or the appreciation of, women’s sport and athletes changed during your tenure at Nike?

To start big, it’s been incredible to watch the journey of women’s sport and hero athletes that have really used their voice to take a stand for the promotion of women’s sport and how it helps equity and mental health and physical wellness. And it’s been really inspiring and amazing to be a part of a brand that’s part of that larger story. And clearly, we’re seeing women’s sport leagues grow.

Within Nike, you know, I would say we’ve always been her biggest champion, always, and will never end that quest is to continue to be her biggest champion. And we’ve had a journey with women. We are the largest women’s sport brand in the world, and we know there’s so much more that we can do. And what I’m most excited about right now is just the pivot that I see us making to invest more deeply in our research to serve her with products that are specifically designed to meet her needs, to serve her really holistically.

Could you speak more to Nike’s investments in women’s sport?

Over the last couple of years, we’ve doubled our investment. We have the largest, we call it the Nike Sports Research Lab. But it is just incredible how what we are now putting into understanding all facets of how her body works, how she moves, how she sweats, how she recovers, and building product uniquely to that. We’ve got lots of new products that have just come out that are designed specifically for her.

Who are the athletes inspiring your world at the moment?

I have to start with our hometown hero with Sam Kerr. She’s incredible. And you know, just to hear her personal story and how she’s just, you know, I think a beacon of inspiration and hope for women in this part of the world is really incredible. But honestly, living now in the US and just having come from Europe, she her name is totally worldwide. Also Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce. Serena – just watching what she’s going to do with the next phase of her life. One of the things that I really love that Nike is doing is taking all these incredible female athletes, we bring them together in something we call the Athlete Think Tank. We’re on our third session of this right now. We bring them to campus and in our quest to serve women better, we’re spending time in rooms like this, getting insights from them, co-developing product, thinking about ways to connect into communities in different ways. And the athletes I just mentioned have been with us on this journey. So, it’s wonderful to see then what comes out of it and how we’re using this you know, better model of collaboration to create the future of Nike but also the future of sport and the way that women you know, shape that.

Have you noticed an increase in women’s jerseys being purchased during this world cup?

Absolutely. Since we started to launch the kits several weeks ago now. we have out-sold women’s jerseys to the 2021 Men’s World Cup.

Nike’s mission is to be the world’s biggest champion for women and girls. What does that look like to you? How are you going to achieve this goal?

It’s across several aspects. Obviously, we’re going to continue to provide the world’s best performance product for our athletes and making sure that the women that push all of us to reach new highs are going to be best served by the products and tools that we partner with them, so that they can play at their best. Equally as important is how we serve every athlete. Our vision is if you have it to bring inspiration and innovation to every athlete, and if you have a body, you are an athlete … As we look towards the future, our vision is to be the greatest champion for women in whatever way she experiences sport. Whether that’s yoga or a marathon, we want to be with her on that journey.

Who Inspires T Australia?

Inside our ‘Structure’ issue, the T Australia team names the female artists they look up to.

Article by T Australia

WOMEN WE LOVEFrom left: Shuhada’ Sadaqat (formerly Sinéad O’Connor), photographed by Leah Pritchard; Maya Angelou, c. 1974.

Lance Richardson, columnist:

“My pick is Helen Garner. Her astonishingly perceptive diaries, which I’ve recently been reading, inspire me to pay closer attention to my own life — everything from the big important relationships to the small quotidian details, like the smells and sounds outside my window at night.”

Emma Mulholland, copy director:

“The comedian Hannah Gadsby gets my vote. Her 2017 show ‘Nanette’ blends humour with rage, shame and hope. She’s done with half-truths and self- deprecation, and I think there’s a lesson there.”

Melanie Milne-Davies, creative director and baker:

“Julia Child was a badass who did not let anything stand in her way, blazing a trail for all females in the food industry while creating timeless recipes.”

Luke Benedictus, features writer and watches editor:

“Impossible to pigeonhole, Jennifer Egan is one of the most interesting and least predictable novelists alive today.”

Tom Lazarus, chief sub-editor:

“I was almost 13 when I watched, gobsmacked, as Shuhada’ Sadaqat (formerly Sinéad O’Connor) sang ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’ on ‘Top of the Pops’. I remember how she was continually blasted in the British tabloids for her look, her politics and her protests against misogyny, police racism and child abuse in the Catholic church. But she never once shut up, conformed or sold out.”

Helen Hawkes, writer:

“I choose author, poet, singer, dancer and civil rights activist Maya Angelou. Her message of triumph over adversity, and of hope, is more relevant today than ever before.”

Victoria Pearson, digital content director:

“I’ve never read a voice like that of the American novelist Catherine Lacey. She is one of the most inventive and ambitious contemporary writers. Her works beautifully negotiate the boundaries of genre and form, and she deftly builds worlds and characters that linger.”

Nicole Bonython- Hines, stylist:

“Phoebe Philo’s work is modern, simple and desirable. Even though she hasn’t designed for more than five years, other designers are still copying her. She’s returning with her own label in September and the fashion world is waiting with bated breath — me especially. No pressure, Phoebe.”

Katarina Kroslakova, editor-in-chief:

“Yes, I know she’s an attorney, author, former FLOTUS and an empowerment advocate, but what I love most about Michelle Obama is her realness. She doesn’t sugar-coat difficulties in marriage or challenges in raising kids, or just the frustrations of everyday life. Every time I see an interview or an anecdote from her on Instagram, I go down a very, very deep rabbit hole. I will admit to recreating some of her speeches to my children at the dinner table to get them to understand values, ethics and gratitude.”

Will Children Save Us at the End of the World?

A wave of recent and forthcoming TV series, books and movies meditate on how young people might fare during an apocalyptic event — with varying degrees of optimism.

Article by Noreen Malone

29-TMAG-CHILDREN-SAVE-US-2Pedro Pascal, left, and Bella Ramsey in a scene from the series “The Last of Us” (2023-present). Photograph by Liane Hentscher/HBO.

The noxious orange smoke that descended over New York this month reminded me of a parlour game I used to play with my husband: Would we have what it takes to survive the apocalypse? We abruptly stopped enjoying this thought experiment in March 2020 and when I had a child the next year, I became even less tolerant of blithely considering the end of the world. But now, suddenly, versions of our game are everywhere, in a new and near-unavoidable genre: stories that revisit our pandemic trauma via even worse — but plausible! — scenarios. Making these works doubly poignant, many of them have children at their centre.

There’s “Station Eleven,” the 2014 novel by Emily St. John Mandel about the aftermath of a swine flu, which was turned into a much-discussed 2021 HBO Max series, in which an 8-year-old girl manages to survive with the help of a stranger turned surrogate parent. “The Last of Us,” HBO’s video game adaptation, which debuted in January, features a zombie-fungus pandemic; a seemingly immune teenage girl is humanity’s one hope. “Leave the World Behind,” Rumaan Alam’s 2020 novel — soon to be a movie — about a bourgeois family vacation gone very bad, features a vague but menacing threat of apocalypse. Also loosely belonging to this category are the shows “Yellowjackets” (2021-present) — a girls’ soccer team turns to cannibalism after a plane crash — and “Class of ’07” (2023) — a school reunion coincides with a climate apocalypse — and the new-to-Netflix 2019 Icelandic movie “Woman at War” (a renegade activist tries to stop the destruction of the environment and adopt a child).

Mahershala Ali, Myha’la Herrold, Julia Roberts and Ethan Hawke in the forthcoming movie “Leave the World Behind.” Photograph by JoJo Whilden/Netflix.

These stories are, in various ways, about how and whether our children can survive the mess that we’ve left them — and what it will cost them to do so. In “Station Eleven,” post-pans (children who were born after the pandemic) are both beacons of optimism and conscripted killers deployed by a self-styled prophet who hopes to erase anyone who holds on to the trauma of the past. And in “The Last of Us,” Ellie, the young girl with possible immunity (played by the actor Bella Ramsey), is forced to kill to survive, and to grapple with whether it’s worth sacrificing her own life in the search for a cure.

The anxieties that these works explore — about planetary destruction and what we did to enable it — are, evidence suggests, affecting the desire of some to have children at all, either because of fear for their future or a belief that not procreating will help stave off the worst. But following the children in these fictions, who didn’t create the conditions of their suffering, isn’t just a devastating guilt trip. Almost all these stories also frame children as our best hope, as we so often do in real life. Children, we need to believe, are resilient and ingenious in ways that adults aren’t. In these stories, when the phones stop working and Amazon stops delivering, it’s children, less set in their ways, who can rebuild and imagine something different. They’re our victims but also our saviours.

Mackenzie Davis in the series “Station Eleven” (2021-22). Photograph by Ian Watson/HBO Max.

Nowhere is this more explicit than in Lydia Millet’s 2020 novel, “A Children’s Bible,” in which a group of middle-aged college friends rent an old mansion for a summer reunion. When a superstorm sets off a chain of events that erodes society, the parents drink and take ecstasy but the kids — teens — remain clearheaded. They care for a baby, grow food and plan for an unrecognisable future. This fantasy of a youth-led solution is both hopeful, Millet implies, and a deplorable shirking of responsibility. (It recalls somewhat Greta Thunberg’s rebuke of grown-ups: “I don’t want you to be hopeful. I want you to panic.”) Its price, these works suggest, is a childhood robbed of innocence. In the rare moments when kids are allowed to be kids in these narratives, there is always a sense of foreboding; for every romp through an abandoned shopping mall, there’s a zombie lying in wait in a Halloween store. “Is this really all they had to worry about?” Ellie asks Joel, her companion in “The Last of Us” (played by Pedro Pascal), about the teenage girls who lived before the fungus hit. “Boys. Movies. Deciding which shirt goes with which skirt.”

This current crop of postapocalyptic stories isn’t the first to feature children prominently. Cormac McCarthy’s novel “The Road,” published in 2006, early in the so-called war on terror, followed a father and son after civilisation had been levelled by an unnamed flash from the sky. (“Are we still the good guys?” the son asks the father as they ignore others’ pain in their struggle to survive.) The movie “Children of Men,” released the same year, imagines a world so destroyed that most humans have lost the ability to reproduce — and hope lies with the only pregnant woman. Of course, one reason these fictions foreground children is that a world without them is the most doomed world of all. It’s no accident that some of the earliest near-apocalypse stories — the biblical flood, the one in the ancient Mesopotamian poem “The Epic of Gilgamesh” — imagined that the world was saved by bringing the “seed of all living creatures,” as the latter work puts it, onto a boat.

But maybe more than any particular fear of a civilisation-ending calamity, these fictions are most useful for helping us work through an unavoidable, terrifying truth on an individual level. That the world, in whatever state it descends to or remains in, will go on without us after our death, and unless tragedy strikes, our children will live in it without us. It’s not comforting to imagine, but it can be illuminating. They will navigate things we can’t imagine, but — just maybe — they’ll do better than we did, even without our help.