We don't just owe the survival of our culture to women, but our very own survival. Every homemade meal, tender embrace, wiped tear, wrapped gift, handwritten card, wise word of advice, and lullaby has raised and nourished us.
Over 150 hours of my Easter vac were spent inside the sturdy walls of one of His Majesty’s most secure men’s prisons – though fortunately I was able to go home at the end of the day.
This kind of advice doesn’t just set unrealistic expectations, but actively discourages real communication. Instead of having a conversation with our partners, we are encouraged to analyse, dissect, interpret, and ultimately to assume the worst.
Nigella’s flourless chocolate cake and custard cream hearts are absolute game-changers, and have never failed to fool people into thinking I understand how to operate in a kitchen.
So here I am, tackling this morally ambiguous minefield head
on with an investigation into ‘get withs’ and whether or not they really are feminist.
Dear...
“So, how’s uni going?”
I imagine this question evokes the same kind of intense existential anguish as being asked how you’re dealing with the inevitability...
After a week of controversy and sedition, last week’s John Evelyn has been summarily executed by the Cherwell editorial team. Though Draconian, the crime...