opinionAdrian Barich: My predictions for footy, ferries, food and fashion for WA in 2026Adrian Barich STMSun, 21 December 2025 2:00AMCommentsComments
I dusted off the crystal ball (bought, naturally, from a Fremantle market stall sandwiched between a bloke selling healing crystals and a vegan sausage-roll maker) and here’s what 2026 looks like for WA.
By mid-January, Perth will officially have only two seasons: “very hot” and “why is it still so hot?” Every weather forecast will end with the reassuring lie “but it’s a dry heat”, which scientists will finally confirm is both meaningless and deeply comforting.
Falling on Valentine’s Day of all things, February’s State of Origin clash between Western Australia and Victoria has a late afternoon bounce-down to provide the ultimate home-ground advantage.
Coffee prices will rise again, but nobody will notice because we’ll all pretend it’s still worth it. Baristas will start asking existential questions like, “is this a treat coffee or an emotional support coffee?”
The correct answer is always yes, even if you’re holding your third latte of the morning.
Fashion will be a mix of practicality and confidence. Men will fully embrace the short-short renaissance, insisting it’s about airflow, not vanity.
Women will continue dressing for three different social occasions in one day because Perth lunches will somehow turn into dinner. Linen will be everywhere. Ironing will be nowhere.
Food will stick to what works, but with subtle flair. A $34 pub parmi that comes with hand-cut chips and a quiet identity crisis. At least one restaurant will demand you “trust the process”, even if the process is mostly smoke.
For me, my suburban Chinese joint will quietly prove again how they have been excellent for 50 years without Instagram validation. The Wembley food hall will also be holding its own.
On screens, WA will finally get its due. Locals will spot our State in multiple TV and streaming shows, all officially “set somewhere else” and we will nod proudly, saying, “that’s at our Parliament House . . . and the other spot is Margaret River”.
A reality show about FIFO dating will appear. It will get the green light immediately, because nothing says 2026 like televised logistical nightmares. Maybe we can coerce Ben Elton into writing the film script.
In sport, the Eagles will win a handful of games, up to five to be precise. Four more victories than in 2025.
After win No.3, talkback radio will ask if finals are “back on the agenda”. They are not, despite it being a top 10 next year . . . but optimism is free, as it always is in WA.
At Fremantle, the heat is turned up a notch. Every loss will provoke deep discussion about identity, expectations, and the lingering question of whether the Dockers are cursed.
They must make a preliminary final or questions will be asked. Qualifying for a prelim will be celebrated like a public holiday. Anything less? Unacceptable, confusing and Docker-y.
In the WAFL, crowds will remember why they watch local footy. Perth and East Perth will loom large, and if a 1978 grand final rematch occurs, half the crowd will need counselling and the other half will be pretending it never hurt in the first place.
Forty-nine years later, the pain still lingers from the red-hot Demons’ two-point loss in the rain, especially because Ian Miller, Perth’s own, went to East Perth that year and won the Simpson Medal for the best player in the grand final.
It was one of the all-time great “stick that in ya pipe and smoke it” moments and 2026 might finally offer a measure of revenge.
By year’s end, Rottnest quokkas will have better media training than most politicians. Selfie etiquette will remain aspirational.
And adventurous people will still be surfing at Rotto’s far western end, where Cathedral Rocks seems a crazy spot to paddle out, especially when those wearing black wetsuits are willing to share the waves with the local long-nosed fur seals.
And then there’s the WA way: our love of a good consultation process. The Swan River ferry may or may not, one day, glide towards the western suburbs, touching down at Matilda Bay or Jo Jo’s Jetty.
Perth Park might appear, once every aspect is examined including the effect on flora and fauna and whether the premier entertainment and sporting precinct will interfere with morning tai chi.
The boldest prediction of all? WA will have another big year, quietly confident, slightly sunburnt, occasionally chaotic, and completely convinced that if the rest of the country just did things our way, everything would be better.
We might even threaten to secede for the umpteenth time if anyone tries to mess with our share of GST revenue.
The Feds have been warned: touch WA’s GST share and suddenly the old secession file starts getting dusted off, again.
The crystal ball never lies. Probably.
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