By Rhian Harris 
The recent news that an item of children’s clothing had been produced for the high-street clothing store Gap using forced child labour may be appalling, but does not come as a shock to most. Consumers have become increasingly aware of – and concerned about – the origins of the clothes they buy. It was in the 1990s that trade unions and non-governmental organisations (NGOs) first began to highlight the plight of factory workers in the developing world producing clothes for leading North American and European companies.

Like most other students living on a limited budget, I have often found myself heading to the perpetually-busy Primark in the Westgate centre, picking up tops for as little as one pound or a pair of shoes for just five pounds. Yet as I join the lengthy queue to pay, I have increasingly found myself pondering the ethics of my decision to patronise suhc budget retailers. The media often report appalling working conditions in the developing world clothing factories of big companies, and budget retailers have been laid with much of the blame. As I queued, however, I noticed a sign declaring Primark’s membership of the Ethical Trading Initiative (ETI): how, therefore, could working conditions be as bad as reported?

The Ethical Trading Initiative is a scheme involving trade unions, companies and not-for-profit organisations, aimed at encouraging companies to accept more responsibility for working conditions in their supply chains. Primark joined comparatively recently, in 2006, and published its Ethical Trading Strategy (ETS) earlier this year. It states unequivocally: “Primark is determined that our focus on providing value & quality for consumers should not be at the expense of people in our supply chain”. Before becoming a member of the ETI, Primark scored just 3.5 out of 20 in a review of the ethical standards of companies by ‘New Consumer’ magazine, although the publication later admitted that its results were unfair as Primark is part of a bigger company.

A flaw in the Ethical Trading Initiative is that its members are allowed to formulate their own Ethical Trading Strategy and there is no external body to decide whether they are fulfilling their own objectives. Membership of the ETI is not proof that the clothes sold in stores have been produced ethically. Clothing companies are becoming increasingly keen to at least ‘appear’ morally sound. This is because many institutional investors now have Socially Responsible Investment, discouraging investment in companies which cannot demonstrate appropriate working conditions. It would be naïve, however, to imagine that companies have suddenly ‘grown a heart’. Sales of ethically-traded products (such as those bearing the ‘fair trade’ logo), have increased by 40% over 2006 worldwide as the social conscience of consumers has developed.

The nature of the clothing industry has changed dramatically over the last decade. New clothing ranges used to hit the shelves just twice a year, whereas now stock is updated constantly, with new collections out every few weeks. The buzz in clothing retail is currently about ‘fast fashion’, where clothes seen on the catwalk are copied by high-street companies to have versions in their shops in just a few weeks; for example the George at Asda ‘Fast Fashion’ range. It is now fashionable to ‘boast’ that a certain item of clothing was ‘only a fiver from Primark/ Matalan/ Tesco’, rather than pretending that your Primark sweater is actually a Prada creation. Clothes have become so cheap now (women’s clothing prices have decreased by one-third in ten years) that consumers can afford to buy clothes much more frequently to keep up with the rapidly-changing fashions. Each item is often worn only a few times before being discarded. A quarter of clothes bought in the UK are from Primark, Matalan, Asda or Tesco, but only 10% of our clothing budget is spent there. Fast fashion and our excessive consumption of cheap clothes may delight the fickle industry, but the way it has been made possible is exceptionally fast production lines in clothing factories, which can have damaging consequences for workers.

‘Just-in-time’ production is now commonplace, where each part of a garment is produced only on demand, allowing strict deadlines to be met and improving efficiency, speed and cutting wastage costs. Companies now place smaller orders, more often. This reduces costs for clothing companies because they can react to consumer demand much more quickly and accurately. For example: if an item of clothing originally produced in a small quantity proves very popular, it can later be produced in larger quantities without losses if the item proves unpopular. This system, however, puts factory workers under great stress: they have to be very flexible, as they never know when work is coming in or how much work there will be. The term ‘feast or famine’ describes how there will be little work for a long duration and then a sudden huge demand, causing workers to suddenly have to put in huge amounts of overtime, often working more than 80 hours a week though rarely paid extra. Because work is not regular, workers also tend to be employed on a temporary basis, so they do not have the stability of a regular wage.

Media reports have made much of the often extremely low wages of factory workers, even when compared to other local wages. For example, Arcadia (the company owned by billionaire Sir Philip Green that includes Topshop/ Topman, Dorothy Perkins and Miss Selfridge) was recently reported as using factories where workers were paid just 22-40p per hour, about 40% less than the local average. ‘Labour Behind the Label’ campaigns for factory workers to receive a ‘living wage’ (the minimum required to cover basic needs, plus a small amount extra); a criterion definitely not met by the reported Arcadia wage. It was also reported that in at least one factory, workers were paid different wages according to their nationality, with Bangladeshi workers paid a lot less than those from Sri Lanka. Part of the problem is that the Arcadia group is not a member of the Ethical Trading Initiative. It has its own code of conduct, but this is of course self-regulated, if at all. Jane Shepherdson, who resigned as brand director of Topshop last year, was reported as saying that consumers cannot keep buying cheap clothes and “not ask where they come from”.

Clothing companies use their power over suppliers to force them to compete with each other. Primark, for example, only ever stays with suppliers for a short period, moving on when it finds a more economical alternative. Factories in the developing world often lack expertise or technology to achieve these cuts in cost/time of production, so instead they force their workers to work ever-longer hours for ever less money. International consultants Acona have said that “there are profound and complex connections between the normal commercial buying practice of a company, and its suppliers’ ability to meet required ethical standards.” In other words, if clothing companies continue to squeeze factories in this way, deterioration in workers’ conditions and rights is inevitable.

So what can we, as consumers, do to improve worker conditions? Well, foremost, there has been a rapid increase in the number of guaranteed fair trade and organic clothing companies in recent years. ‘People Tree’ was the first company in its field, a clothing company that works with small-scale production groups in other continents, using local skills such as embroidery and supporting local community projects, to produce clothing ethically and in an environmentally-responsible manner. Safia Minney, the founder of People Tree, boldly stated that company directors should be held “criminally liable for their overseas operations in the developing world.”
Leading high-street companies have begun to realise that there is a growing market for these ethically-produced clothes. Topshop recently launched a range of clothes made in conjunction with People Tree. M&S has also recently made its main range of basic women’s t-shirts fair-trade. Change is happening but it is minor, slow and rarely for the right reasons.

What can a concerned student do to help? The logical solution to this issue is a composite one. Consumers drive supply and need to take a stand, boycotting companies found to be violating workers’ rights. We need to support companies that adhere to fair trade regulations, and pressure groups such as ‘Labour Behind the Label’ in their attempts to change government legislation. Many consumers are still not aware of the awful working conditions their clothes are made in. So the issue needs to stay in the media, to boost demand for, and hence supply of ‘ethical products’. With some luck this article will encourage you to consider the true cost of ‘cheap’ clothes.

ANIMAL rights extremists have claimed responsibility for an arson attack after two Oxford scientists’ cars were set alight earlier this month.
On 9 November, an anonymous communiqué was published on the Bite Back website, which promotes the causes of the Animal Liberation Front (ALF) and other animal rights groups, admitting responsibility for the attack and warning, “there will be more”.
It stated, “On the night of 4 November, ALF activists carried out arson attacks on two seperate [sic] vehicles belonging to researchers connected to the notorious Dept of Experimental Psychology at Oxford univ. These cars were attacked at home addresses in North Oxford.”
Oxfordshire Fire and Rescue Service were alerted to the incident at 11:15pm after local residents saw a Vauxhall Corsa and Volvo 440 burning.
Laurie Pycroft, founder of pro-vivisection group Pro-Test, condemned the arson attack and claimed that ALF’s actions were out of place in a democratic society.
“Once again, the ALF have demonstrated that they’re incapable of holding a reasoned debate and can only get any attention to their campaign by committing violence in the name of their cause, something that is completely unacceptable in a democratic society. I can only hope that the perpetrators are brought to justice, and that other scientists will not be intimidated into remaining silent about the vital work they carry out,” he said.
Professor John Stein, Fellow of Magdalen College and a neuroscientist who sits on Pro-Test’s executive committee, warned that the ALF’s violent tactics only served to turn opinion against them.
“The ALF are losing the argument, partly due to their violent tactics. 90 percent of the public and 96 percent of doctors accept that well regulated animal experiments are necessary for medical progress. Torching people’s cars only goes to show how empty their arguments are,” he said.
Professor of Neurosurgery Tipu Aziz, who has used primates during his research into Parkinson’s disease, agreed. “These examples of terrorist activities by members of the ALF show how pointless their stance and actions have been,” he said. “Research will continue, the Oxford laboratories are nearing completion, the government has publicly come out in support of animal research and the public are now very much in support. Given they have lost the public arguments they have reverted to form and are committing these terrorist acts.”
Thames Valley Police (TVP) are investigating the attack and have removed the vehicles for forensic examination. A spokesperson said they would not be ruling out other lines of enquiry, despite ALF’s claims. 
TVP Acting Community Relations Manager Rachel McQuilliam said, “The investigation team is aware of the claim of responsibility on the Bite Back website; however, whilst animal rights is one line of enquiry, detectives are keeping an open mind as to the motive for the attacks.”
Oxford University authorities have stated they will cooperate with the investigation, and emphasized their commitment to the animal experimentation lab, as well as their obligation to protect staff and students.
A University spokesperson said, “Protecting staff, students and those who work with the University is the number one priority. As a University deeply committed to freedom of speech, we respect people’s right to express their opposition to research using animals. However, we will not tolerate threats or intimidation, and we obviously co-operate fully with the police in their investigations.”
The communiqué dedicated the arson attacks to ‘Barry and Felix’. Felix was one of the macaque monkeys experimented upon by the University, before being put down earlier this year. Barry is believed to refer to Barry Horne, a British animal rights activist who died in 2001 following a series of hunger strikes in prison.
The ALF communiqué also claimed responsibility for an arson attack carried out in September this year. “Six weeks previous to this attack an arson attack was carried out on a sports car…owned by a director of [one of ALF’s target companies]” it said.
In 2006, the ALF placed a firebomb outside the home of a neighbour of a UCLA primate researcher. The United States Department of Homeland Security considers the ALF to be a terrorist threat to national security and its activities have been serverely curtailed within the United States.

 Wheatsheaf Pub, High Street 8.00pm, Tuesdays, Odd WeeksJokes about paedophilia always go down well. Niall Gildea, the MC at Ministry of Mirth last Tuesday, started off on the right foot, with a comparison between Gerry McCann and Gary Glitter. And he didn’t stop there, but went on, probing the depths of our discomfort/enjoyment. Madeleine McCann was to become a running joke throughout the evening.

It may not be immediately clear why a kidnapped little girl and her grieving family should be a source of comedy. But it wasn’t really the subject-matter that made Gildea so successful – it was the way he danced delicately about the borderline of discomfort and taboo. Every time I felt he might have lost the audience – for example during a detailed description of his problems with diarrhoea – he had the courage to let us squirm, and then pull us back in with a well-placed joke and a wild-eyed grin.

Watching Broderick Chow was a completely different experience. There were whispers going round the crowd about this transatlantic import before the show, and he lived up to his billing. He waltzed on stage with a confidence and fluency that was notably absent in the other acts. Where Gildea was stilted at times, Chow’s jokes were smooth and comfortable, guiding the audience from one laugh to another with a steady hand. He had the knack of bringing together the pub’s diverse audience in sharing his embarrassment at life in general. A particular highlight was a description of his disillusionment when, finding himself by chance waiting in the supermarket queue behind Joni Mitchell, he looked into her basket to discover a jumbo pack of toilet roll and some chewing-gum.

For all Chow’s consummate ability, though, I enjoyed myself most watching Gildea. There were two different approaches on show here: Chow was slick, American (sorry – Canadian), and above all safe; Gildea awkward, British, risky, and rather exciting. When he picked out a member of the audience and began to flirt disastrously with her, there was a genuine fear that he might go down like a lead balloon. But this was just another piece of his self-effacing comedy of embarrassment, and suddenly his failed advances were hilarious.

You mustn’t run away with the impression that everything was as funny as Maddy. Many of the acts felt unpolished, the material under-rehearsed or just downright bad. One particularly painful piece of ‘political’ comedy joked about Gordon being a bit more ‘brown’ after his holiday, David having his camera on, and – ahem – Boris’s Johnson. But there was some excellent stuff on show here, and there are many less enjoyable ways to spend a Tuesday evening in Oxford.

OXFORD’S Tory Reform Group looks set to disband and merge with OUCA after the President-Elect resigned last week.
President-Elect Thomas Hardman said that the Conservative Party’s move towards the political centre under David Cameron had removed the need for a Tory Reform Group.
In an email to members, the group’s current President Luke Connoley wrote, “Next Sunday there will be an Extraordinary General Meeting of the OUTRG. It has been called to discuss and take a vote on the potential dissolution of the OUTRG as a society.
“The discussion will be centred around the idea, not of simple dissolution of the TRG, but of a merger with OUCA in the name of unity of Conservatism at Oxford.”
Connoley said that membership of the Tory Reform Group has substantially declined in recent years. He said, “When I first got involved two years ago, attendance at meetings was 20-25 people. Now we’re lucky to get five. There was a lack of interest at this year and last year’s Fresher Fair and we only had one person turn up to the Freshers’ drinks party. We thought if the interest wasn’t there, we should do something about it.
“My decision to resign was largely influenced by change within the Conservative movement in general… To have two Conservative groups proclaiming similar messages in the University is simply not a sustainable situation, and this was reflected in a steady decline in membership over the last two years. After private discussions with other committee members who felt the same, I took the decision to resign in order to force change.
“We feel OUTRG members will feel at home in OUCA, especially as it has become more liberal and less reactionary than in the past,” he added.
Connoley is, however, disappointed that the society has to close.  “I think it’s a great shame, though,” he said. “OUTRG has been around for over 40 years and led the discussion on liberal Tory values. If either the national Conservative party or OUCA go towards the right, we could always consider reforming.”
OUCA President Alex Stafford welcomed the merger, saying, “Personally, I’ve always believed that it’s silly having two societies trying to achieve the same thing. We’re happy that they’re coming to join us as we can pool our resources to achieve greater things.”

By Jack Marley-Payne 
A visit to the college bar is halfway up the stepladder that joins sitting in your room with your balls out drinking a cup of soup from a pot noodle container to an actual establishment. It aspires to be the latter and thus includes a barman/woman and various bar utensils. Crucially, though, it is inhabited exclusively by members of its own college, so (as usual in the Oxford bubble) there is a fair gap between it and the real world.

With no outside influence, everything that is Oxford University is distilled within a college bar. Things happen there that couldn’t be found elsewhere, mainly because the townsfolk would react violently. Much mess is made as wacky drinking games are played, members of the rugby club make very loud noises and fairly niche, degree-related topics are discussed to the boredom of everyone else.

The college bar also enjoys a sort of symbolic status. The number of people who go in it and the amount they drink is often equated with the social capabilities of the college’s members: “I can’t believe how dead it is in here: the freshers are so boring” is sadly a common utterance. Such comments seem a little unfair – I’m sure a socially connected person would have things to do in different places without having to schedule a trip to their native venue too often. Still, it is a place where one can go if there are no other plans to hand, since there’s a high chance that people you know will be there to entertain you. It is after all quite comforting to have such a reliable source of amusement readily accessible..

On the other hand, it can soon lead to a stagnant nightlife. Going to the same place time after time can get quite depressing but nevertheless addictive. Unlike the Parkend clientele, most people know each other and are therefore unlikely to sleaze on or start a fight with you, for fear of later shame. But sometimes you need to go somewhere new to break out of a bad mood. Also, the bar really is an extension of the college and so is not able to create its own atmosphere, which is one of the best things about a normal pub. After a full day of work and other rubbish, one wants to escape Oxford during one’s eves.

Of course all this whinging is straight up hypocritical. I go to the college bar regularly and so do my friends and I probably enjoy myself more often than not. It would be tempting to draw some trite conclusion involving moderation, but I’m not so sure. I guess it’s an unavoidable part of my, and, odds on, your, life here, and we just have to accept  the occasional mediocrity that it entails. After all, as the Cheers theme-tune states, sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name.

By Thea Warren 
To be a celebrity is to be known by people whom you do not know. To be so fascinatingly well known that a grainy photo of you in a hoodie walking the dog can fetch thousands of pounds. To be worshipped by people who will never actually meet you and who love you purely for the façade which your agents have carefully constructed. Who wouldn’t sacrifice their freedom, integrity and privacy for the knowledge that their every move would be photographed, documented and pored over by thousands of strangers? Facebook relies on it.

However, whilst the word “celebrity” has connotations of glamour, exclusivity and aloof cool, the everyday mortal should not be discouraged: it is getting ever quicker, easier and cheaper to have your fifteen minutes of fame. Those shamelessly jealous of Keira Knightley, Wayne Rooney, Lily Cole and Lewis Hamilton, celebrities who are barely older than us and already worth millions, should take comfort, whilst perhaps setting our sights a little lower – Big Brother 9, anyone? No, there is still hope for those of us who would rather not humiliate ourselves for the nation’s “entertainment” but also don’t have the talent or contacts to become a proper celebrity in the big wide world. We might as well try to achieve the status of College Celebrity and get a little groupie loving whilst we’re here, even if outside the Oxford bubble, no one can hear our fans scream.

One way to give the impression of celebrity is to add as a friend on Facebook anyone you’ve ever met. This can be awkward as it involves finding out the surname of everyone you’ve ever hooked up with, smiled at in Sainsbury’s or been introduced to by the friend of a friend’s girlfriend’s housemate’s tute partner. And in fact, Facebook celebrity is a dangerous game; it can be monumentally unconvincing if most of your “friends” know that they are little more than acquaintances and assume this to be true of your other 564 friends in the Oxford network.

The College Celebrity is that bloke who everyone gossips about in Freshers’ Week in the hopes of appearing well connected. The girl with the fantastic wardrobe who always looks as in control as she does busy, effortlessly balancing her work with nights out, netball and single handedly wiping out AIDS. The boy who was known for his fantastic eccentricity within weeks without even trying. He wasn’t on Facebook, wore his gown to Park End and became renowned throughout college for his bizarre taste in hats, penchant for listening to Bulgarian Diaphonic Singing and for that bop costume with the live goldfish and the frankfurters.

Those hoping to achieve college celebrity status have two options – become famous, or become infamous. One route involves more nudity and requires one to talk loudly about oneself at all the right parties. “Leaking” made-up stories about yourself to Evelyn might help. The other method is slower and requires much more effort (and talent) in the form of play rehearsals, training for sports teams, and weekly JCR meetings for those really keen political ‘slebs. Of course, it is best to be involved in University-wide activities in order to shine within your college and to attain that untouchable quality. Only very rare individuals manage to become college celebrities by force of personality alone and this is best only attempted by those exceptional social butterflies who are equipped with a sparkling wit and an impeccably casual attitude. The moment that someone looks as though they’re trying too hard, any ground already gained is lost. Desperation is to celebrity as a kebab flavoured burp is to romance, and the resulting success or failure can be exhilaratingly or catastrophically exponential. So develop a devil-may-care saunter and an insouciant glance. Your clothes (one word: stash) and hair need to look effortless. Learn to linger, lounge and laugh as though you were born in the limelight. Casual is your new middle name.

It’s not supposed to be easy. But of course if this all seems too complicated, we only need to turn to the example of the college celebrity who impressed everyone by doing a naked lap of the main quad within his first term and has since proved to several lucky ladies that it really was that cold that evening

We are known variously as technical managers or technical directors but in truth technical ambassador is more accurate. We scribble authoritatively on bits of paper, climb ladders and confidently stride about with complicated looking equipment. But as we crouch at the back of the theatre, we’re just as exposed as those on stage. As the last of the audience take their seats, we’re praying to the gods of the theatre just as fervently: we know exactly what can go wrong. But even our own fears are surpassed sometimes.

Fringe venues seem to compete with each other for obscurity. This year I found myself in a stone-walled, dank venue in the bowels of the city that even Mervyn Peake would have baulked at. This dramatic space had high, uneven walls, stalactites and a damp problem. We put up with it for most of the run but toward the end the gods turned on us. The water, hitherto content with running down the walls and making the venue manager ill, started dripping from the ceiling.

You have to put up with a lot worse as a techie, and a few drops of water running down my neck wasn’t going to put me off my stride. But as the drips approached the equipment, landing on the lighting desk, I must confess I did start to worry. Foraging for plastic to cover the desk with, returning every now and again to run a cue, I noticed that all was not well on stage.

Scenes that should have been brightly lit were slightly dimmer. Fades took twice as long and the wrong lanterns came up. One poor character had to act half a scene in complete darkness. Grappling with the faders, I attempted to do the show manually. That only seemed to anger the gods further.

The carefully timed snap-blackout that usually ended the show to rapturous applause took about five seconds, leaving the actor frozen in position and the audience mulling the punch-line over at their leisure. No amount of fader-twiddling would convince the lighting desk otherwise.

The curtain call, a chance for the cast to redeem the production in the audience’s eyes, didn’t go much better. The shaken cast, glad that it was all over, marched triumphantly on stage and up came the lights for the last time. But they didn’t get the warm, bright wash they deserved. The sulking machine allowed them nothing but a solitary purple lamp shining on their feet.

Needless to say, bloody sacrifices of propitiation will be made in future.

 Emily Packer peruses the problems of reading for pleasure as an Oxford studentI have been at Oxford only seven weeks, but as a fresher reading English, I find that my world has already contracted to Anglo-Saxon genitive plurals and the intricate social manoeuvres of the characters of George Eliot and Henry James. I have long ago ceased to read the news or the latest prize-winning novels with any regularity. An unread copy of the Economist peeks forlornly out from under my bed, a memorial to my noble resolutions to remain informed about world events a little more recent than the Battle of Maldon.

This state of affairs is especially surprising to me as an international student from America, where undergraduates do not specialise until their second year and are encouraged to take classes in a variety of art and science subjects. On the one hand, the English system demands greater intellectual focus, independent thought, and a deeper understanding of the chosen subject. On the other, it can sometimes reduce the degree to which students are broadly conversant on a variety of topics.

Aware of this problem, I try to determine whether my colleagues are becoming as poorly read outside their subject as I. At breakfast, I talk, over my soggy eggs and tomatoes, to a graduate fresher reading financial economics, who describes his outside reading as ‘one book every two months.’ Ashley, a first-year biochemist, concurs, cataloguing her recent bedtime reading as ‘organic chemistry textbooks, biochemistry textbooks, biophysics textbooks…’ Another biochemist confesses to bringing along a store of novels for quiet nights but in fact finding time for no more than a quick glance at the Cherwell in the JCR. (In an occurrence certain to please journo-hacks everywhere, I find that the OxStu and the Cherwell easily top the list of extracurricular reading material. Student editors, bear cautiously your burden of providing overworked students with their sole channel to the outside world). Kiri, a first-year lawyer currently perusing Virginia Woolf’s The Waves in her spare time, is one of the few to establish a healthy balance between required and extracurricular reading: ‘I would say that I manage to strike a pretty good balance between reading what I want to read and what I need to read. It also helps that my subject is throwing a lot of interesting documents my way…I’m reading things within my subject that I would never have encountered in my normal reading pattern.’

Nonetheless, most students feel a definite conflict between their personal and their curricular reading, and some have actively tried to redress the imbalance. The Christ Church Cavaliers, a newly formed book club at the aforementioned college, plans to create a forum for the discussion of books from a variety of genres, from classic novels to history texts. Founder Edward Charlton-Jones and the other permanent members hope to include students from non-arts subjects who might otherwise be unlikely to participate. The club, rumoured to feature swords and heraldic crests (only at the House…), will no doubt become a mainstay of inter-subject reading.

In addition, the average Oxford student can partake of a wide range of extracurricular activities designed to broaden his experience beyond the bounds of his subject. Debates at the Union provide students with a fair and balanced look at loonies from across the political spectrum. Clubs ranging from the Asia-Pacific Society to the Yacht Club cater to every cultural, recreational, charitable, or culinary taste, no matter how obscure, while the Law and Finance Societies offer abundant free champagne and canapés in exchange for advance rights to your firstborn child and immortal soul. In short, though time for extracurricular reading may be scant, Oxford students are only as much in thrall to their subjects as they allow themselves to be, and opportunities for a well-rounded education in and out of the classroom are available to all.

by Elen GriffithsI am hunting for an impossible word. It is ‘Tantenverführer,’ which literally means ‘aunt-seducer’. I pound through dictionaries, trawl internet translators, then finally check online language forums. I search in vain: it is nowhere to be found.
This is because the word does not exist. In his new book Toujours Tingo, the sequel to The Meaning of Tingo, author Adam Jacot de Boinod has collected bizarre expressions from around the world, which have no equivalent in English. He delights in novel expressions and quirky idioms. Yet some phrases that Boinod cites, such as ‘Maüsemelker,’ ‘Tantenverführer’ and ‘gwarlingo,’ seem either to be invented, or so obscure that native speakers do not recognise them. The book has caused anger among the internet community, as linguists argue online that words have been made up.

To my disappointment I could not find ‘Tantenverführer,’ which de Boinod claims means a suspiciously charming young man. It is not in dictionaries, and German linguists on online ‘Leo’ dictionary forum don’t believe it officially exists. ‘Gwarlingo,’ allegedly meaning ‘the rushing sound a grandfather clock makes before striking the hour,’ is similarly unrecognizable. My Welsh-speaking family have never heard of it; nor have readers of ‘Times Online’. Has Boinod actually found these expressions, or is he inventing them?

These may be obscure or archaic words, which poses the question: how can we determine which words we officially accept as part of language? When an author invents words, as Lewis Carroll invented ‘galumph’ or ‘chortle,’ do they count? What about the archaic word ‘coruscating’ used by Stephen Spender, which I have yet to find anywhere else? If a word is so rare that no native speaker has heard of it, can we really accept it as a word?

This is an issue which de Boinod shies away from, yet it is vital in justifying his choice of obscure examples. Toujours Tingo is an interesting catalogue of idiomatic phrases from different languages, many of which are fascinating, but some of which are inane. De Boinod offers no analysis of his word-lists, other than claiming they will ‘change the way we see the world.’ I was interested to know that ‘it’s raining cats and dogs’ translates as ‘il pleut comme une vache qui pisse,’ but this did not fundamentally change my perception of language or the world. Toujours Tingo is bursting with interesting trivia – like the fact that many French idioms contain the number 36 – but little meaning.

De Boinod researched his book by trawling through 130 dictionaries and 140 websites, and it is possible that he found his obscure words, which have caused controversy online, in dictionaries more wide-ranging than the ones I use. Yet there is a fine line between quirky, obscure expressions and disused, unrecognisable ones; in my opinion, Toujours Tingo frequently crosses this line.