Many of us have heard the dreaded ‘So… any idea what you’re doing next?’. It makes me a little irate, anxious, and on the verge of a minor breakdown, as you can probably tell. Two years of my undergraduate degree have somehow disappeared with the blink of an eye – I am older but seem to be none the wiser.
There’s something that makes the high table feel a bit off. Maybe it’s because the hierarchy of academia it represents hits a bit too close to home. A bit too close to the bitter sentiment in British society towards class domination.
Brunch is a particular love of mine. Between the poached eggs at Brasenose brunch, the coconut pancakes at The Handle Bar Cafe, and huevos rancheros at the Oxford Brunch Bar, there is no shortage of weekend brunch options in Oxford. The Breakfast Club could have been a perfect addition to this lovely list - alas, it did not make the cut.
All it takes is for me to catch a glimpse of a boy on a VOI and I’m out. It’s now possible to designate a character trait as a red flag and rule someone out completely. What happened to second chances?
It feels natural to carry sadness for moments missed, for the advice that might have been shared, and for the unique kind of love that could have shaped your life.
There is already a power imbalance in heterosexual relationships. The society and institutions in which our relationships with men are built favour men, their...
It feels essential to state that ‘short-form’ media, in its clips and images, is inevitably never a short-term experience. We’ve all opened our phones...
