Lifestyle

How my year abroad in France healed my relationship with food

We’re sitting at a makeshift dining table at the foothills of the Pyrenees, the mystic beauty of the mountains enveloping our little group.

A beginner’s guide to being an amateur

When I was seven, my grandma decided I was going to be a pianist. For the next twelve years, I sat through weekly piano lessons, despite a complete absence of enthusiasm for the instrument.

What’s in a (mispronounced) name?

When you read the byline for this article, how did you pronounce my surname? Chances are, you worked through it phonetically, elongating the vowels as you went along.

Journey to decentre of the earth: Wilful ignorance of men

When I went back to my high school last year to talk to prospective applicants, the number one thing I was asked was: “Are all your conversations, like, really smart?”

The Patience of Ordinary Things

"How truly can we say that our past selves are gone, when there they are, right now - pressed between the pages of an old diary..."

0th Week: ‘Dough(nut) trust strangers!

Thursday evening. Eighth week. My head has finally stopped spinning after a tumultuous Park End (I think). A crinkled pastry bag is tucked under...

New Year’s Resolutions: Why are we so bad at keeping them?

New year, new start. It is a terrible cliché. But the fact is, as another year ticks by, it’s a good opportunity to close...

‘Home is where the heart is.’

"It can feel like a bit of a conflict - the home where I grew up now feels like a waiting room before I get back to my ‘real life’ at Oxford."

Cherwell Food dines at Lula’s Ethiopian and Eritrean Cuisine

I knew it would be good when we were sat opposite Lula’s poetry library.  On a warm afternoon in early June, my friend and I...

The Not So Secret History: Family dynamics

After the madness of the first half of term, these last few weeks have seen at least three of the household retreating back into...

Hooked!

I never thought to pick up crochet. Other than a few lessons from my grandmother as a child, the thought didn’t cross my mind....

X days ’til Christmas

Ah yes, November. The clocks have gone forward, Halloween has been and gone and, according to TikTok, Mariah Carey has officially begun her annual...

A guide to homesickness

We’re now in the middle of the Michaelmas term. The first term always feels like the longest because there are no bank holidays or...

Vegan sage gnocchi

Outside the church at the end of my street I recently spotted a small, carefully cultivated herb garden. Upon further inspection of this aromatic...

The Not So Secret History: moments of clarity

Is ‘happy fifth week’ a contradiction in terms? Either way, I hope yours isn’t going too badly. We’ve reached the stage in term where...

I bought pesto, pissed

I can only wonder at what I was thinking, spending so much on so little

A care leaver’s note on Oxford’s whacky traditions

This week is National Care Leavers Week. The act of dedicating a week to raise awareness for a cause is a PR strategy as...

The Not So Secret History – The Party

I’m beginning to think a fortnightly column simply isn’t enough to cover everything that goes on in this house of mine. To give you...

Pedal to the metal

Oxford is a city ruled by cyclists. In this cycling paradise, pedestrians often find themselves swept up in the whirlwind of cyclists and tourists,...

A taste of Tuscany

Wine was so prevalent throughout my Tuscan culinary experience, it replaced whole courses when dining out

Procrastination: title pending…

In today’s high-pressure society, it is no secret that we all fall prey to procrastination. Whether it’s that looming essay deadline or last-minute revision...

The Not So Secret History: Healthy Habits

As this is the first instalment of my column, it would be natural to give a little bit of background to what I’m going...

Dinner date with yourself

When one of my closest friends first introduced me to the phrase “date yourself”, I found it ridiculous. I have always enjoyed my own...

Grabbing lunch out without going broke

On more days than I care to admit, I wander about town, lunch box empty and stomach growling

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