Barely a month has passed since we made our flustered entry into 2026. But it seems like the verdict is already in: your honour, we’ve had enough. Bring back 2016.
During these cold winter months, in which – thanks to that pinnacle of British construction, breathable walls – I wake up in a freezing room, I find great solace in hiding beneath my blanket.
My best memories of gallivanting around Europe were of parks. They were found in the tranquility of self-reflection as I enjoyed the serenity of nature, clutching my too-expensive coffee and watching the ducks swim about in the river as the cold winter wind whipped the fallen leaves off the ground beside me.
On being accepted into Oxford, everyone warned me about the reading lists. “You’ll be reading eight hours a day,” they said. At the time, it sounded almost romantic.
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...