Friday 22nd May 2026
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The Devil is Sponsored by Dior: ‘The Devil Wears Prada 2’ in review

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Anyone who has been to the cinema at all in the last couple of years will have found themselves asking the question: “Why does everything look like that?” This feeling is especially palpable when you’re watching the exact same scene from 20 years ago, desaturated. The Devil Wears Prada 2 opens with Andy (Anne Hathaway) brushing her teeth in the mirror, a perfectly unsubtle reflection of the first seconds of the original film. The only marked difference is the colour grading and the quiet hum of Andy’s electric toothbrush, signalling the decades that have passed, given that Hathaway’s poreless face certainly tries to deny it. 

The original Devil Wears Prada was a film that took a major Hollywood gamble. Being an adaptation of the roman à clef of the same name, the production team were backed into a corner in terms of how to finance and market the film, given the sharp and overt satire of the woman who owned the entire fashion industry. Anna Wintour was still, by and large, the most powerful person in fashion when director David Frankel was fighting to create an accurate representation of the fashion industry in his film. Patricia Field, the costume designer, sourced approximately $1 million worth of clothing on a $100,000 budget through her personal connections outside of the so-called ‘Wintour ecosystem’. Intuitive filming locations like the Met, MoMA, and Bryant Park all had board members associated with Wintour and thus could not be used as sets. The film implicitly argues that this is a story worth telling, even if the industry it claims to be intimate with is intent on boycotting it. For an almost tiringly self-aware sequel – yes, we know that a million girls would kill for this job, and an early scene warps the Meryl Streep cinematic universe by featuring an Instagram post that uses a screencap of Miranda from the original film – The Devil Wears Prada 2 doesn’t seem to recall the conditions of production in 2006 at all. 

From its earliest scenes through to the very end, The Devil Wears Prada 2 is functionally an unskippable ad. The sponsorships that the film took are displayed in a very obvious and sometimes tacky manner  – though I could see it coming from a million miles away, the shameless Starbucks promo made me wince and sink into my seat a little further. Whilst the coffee cups can be ignored to some degree, the brand partnerships are unfortunately also integral to the plot. 

We find out early on that Emily (Emily Blunt) now works in the advertising department of Dior. Andy, Miranda, and Nigel (Stanley Tucci) must appease her after it is revealed that a puff piece published by Runway praises a brand that uses sweatshop labour. Emily leverages this against the Runway executives in order to secure a five-page layout for the new Dior flagship, which Andy is assigned to write. In her interview with Andy, Emily speaks glowingly of how designer brands have essentially made themselves inaccessible for the average, middle-class consumer. According to Emily, the shoes you wear, the bag you carry, they speak to who you are and what you care about. Andy scoffs at this because she knows what the audience knows, too: your Dior purse only tells the world that you have too much money and not a clue what to do with it. The frustrating part is that she is functionally not at liberty to say anything else. The iron-clad partnership with Dior means that Andy, a character who we know to value principles over fancy dress, must change her tune. Patricia Field securing a Chanel wardrobe for the cast out of thin air is essentially what Nigel does for Andy in the first film – an important part about her transformation is that she has not actually risen in status, she has just made good friends in high places. In the second film, her new position as features editor at Runway earns Andy enough money to buy a luxury flat in central Manhattan. Maybe scoffing shows the true extent of her desire to retaliate. 

Though a big budget was undoubtedly necessary to secure the returning cast who are now all firmly on the A-list, I can’t help but partially blame the – pardon my French – late-stage capitalist slop on my screen on the rise of streaming services. This story, like all other scripts of the 2020s, has died a sad death; its eulogy will simply be the tudum sound. This is apparent even in the beigeness of the opening scene and Hathaway’s blemish-free face. Netflix has operated under a tiered subscription system for the last decade, wherein you can pay the difference to unlock ‘Ultra HD’ streaming. You can also, of course, pay to stream without ads. The luxury brand scheme that Emily describes is the same financial model that has taken hold of the film industry, causing the decline of cinema attendance and poisoning blockbuster-scale productions. Those who truly want it, the ever-growing roster of streaming services tells us, will pay for it. The rest of us must suffer.

It’s not all bad, though. I am definitely not high and mighty enough to claim myself indifferent to nostalgia bait, especially when it objectively makes a pretty good attempt at regenerating the buzz of its predecessor. Upon rewatching the first film with my friends to refresh our memories, one of them exclaimed: “There’s just so many scenes to queen out to!” This is what the sequel gets right – the focus is still largely on girls and gays, their fun, campy outfits, and of course, a musical number performed by Lady Gaga. Despite its glowering flaws, the film still makes for two hours spent smiling and bopping your head along to the soundtrack. 


However, the funniest part about the whole film is how it postures as self-conscious in a comically “maybe the real Prada was the devils we met along the way” manner, and still manages to be completely dense in other aspects. The 2003 novel The Devil Wears Prada was written by Lauren Weisberger after she spent a period working as Anna Wintour’s personal assistant. Andy is literally given the option to take a $350,000 book deal to write what would have probably been a “gooey” (as Emily accurately characterises her) depiction of the Prada-clad HR disaster that she works for, by Miranda herself, and she still turns it down. “This could hurt Miranda,” she whispers in a trembling voice when she refuses her publisher friend Talia’s (Rachel Bloom) offer for the book, to which Talia rightly responds, “Which is fine, because Miranda is atrocious!” To Andy, it’s more complicated than that, and maybe this is an acceptably humanist approach, but one thing is certain. In the world of The Devil Wears Prada 2, there is one thing that could have never existed: The Devil Wears Prada.

Raising refugee rights: Oxford STAR and Campsfield House

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CW: Death, suicide, racism.

“The Coalition and STAR are quite unique in the emphasis on trying to bridge the gap between students and the community”.

This is how Faye, a member of Oxford Student Action for Refugees (STAR), the university branch of an organisation that describes itself as “[t]he national network of students building a society where refugees are welcomed”, characterises the society’s support of the Coalition to Close Campsfield. Caught within the often insular Oxford bubble, where student concerns are easily geared towards their colleges, the existence of Campsfield House has seemingly been erased from the map. 

A student campaign for the rights of refugees

“I think students at Oxford can be quite myopic at times”, said Faye. She wishes more would get involved with local causes, focusing on matters beyond student-related issues: “I think sometimes people can get caught up in trying to improve conditions in this kind of very narrow sense, for themselves and other people in their degree, rather than thinking about how we are in such a place of incredible privilege. Why do we get to benefit from that privilege, while those who face the disadvantages of that privilege?” Students face additional logistical barriers: the eight-week terms and academic workload mean missed meetings and protests. But members of Oxford STAR have put their books down in favour of active participation. With 39 groups across the country, Student Action for Refugees filed a joint petition with City of Sanctuary, VOICES Network & SolidariTee for university students, and staff in response to the Illegal Migration Bill. 

As a student society, Oxford STAR brings unique advantages to the refugee rights movement. The society has been unafraid to exert pressure on the institution’s actions. Recently, they released an open letter condemning the University of Oxford’s Centre on Migration, Policy & Society (COMPAS)’s invitation to Sean Donnelly, Editor in Chief of Frontext, the European Border and Coast Guard Agency, and Eddy Montgomery, Senior Director of Enforcement, Compliance and Crime at the Home Office. These events are a part of the “Immigration Enforcement in Practice” seminars convened by Rob McNeil. Written by a group of “current Oxford students and alumni, migrants’ rights campaign groups and academics”, they highlight the “much-needed critical commentary on border enforcement in the EU and UK” that is missing in COMPAS’ series of events. The intervention reflects a broader willingness among student activists to challenge not only government policy, but also the university’s relationship to institutions involved in border enforcement.

Awarded the University of Sanctuary status in 2023, Oxford joined a group of 25 Universities of Sanctuary. Founded by the City of Sanctuary UK, “this network has been developed through the integration of Article 26 Project resources with City of Sanctuary UK, and collaboration with Student Action for Refugees, Refugee Education UK, and others”, with the aim to “develop a culture and a practice of welcome within institutions”. Oxford appears proud of its University of Sanctuary status and its City of Sanctuary Organisation Pledge. The University “is committed to being a place of welcome for people who have been forcibly displaced around the world, and supports students and academics who have been forced to flee conflict or persecution”. 

To satisfy the minimum criteria for a University of Sanctuary award, the institution must “support the establishment of a student-led awareness group on campus (such as a STAR group)”. On the University website, explicit support is indeed given to Oxford STAR: “We encourage our students to learn about sanctuary and to create an inclusive culture of welcome. As part of this, the University supports the Oxford branch of Student Action for Refugees in recruiting new members for the academic year.” In order to demonstrate sufficient support to “student-led awareness group[s]”, a member of the university must be in contact with the head office team at STAR. Examples listed on the application form include forms of logistical support, including the facilitation of meetings and financial assistance. This empowers Oxford STAR, Faye argues, with an “institutional leverage over the university where we are able to sit in on University of Sanctuary subcommittee meetings and talk to people in the university who are involved with the award.”

In the context of a growing far-right presence in the city, Oxford STAR has used their “pathway in the University” to focus on exerting their influence on the institution: “We do try to focus more on things that the University is doing that we can address, because we think that’s the advantage that we have as a student organisation, so that includes things like any kind of departmental talks that platform voices which we think are quite anti-immigration and contribute to this toxic environment.” St George’s and Union Jack flags erected by “Raise the Colours Oxfordshire” around St Aldates and the Headington roundabout, alongside protests by the Oxfordshire Patriots, speak to this “broader rhetoric and environment” that Oxford STAR resists.

Despite the society’s influence, there is a careful move to make space for the experience and three-decade-long history of the Coalition movement by the students: “I think by having this campaign that is led by local community members and having students kind of support them, rather than trying to lead the campaign themselves, I think that helps make a difference.” 

Bill, a founding member of the Coalition in 1993, extends the same appreciation to the students who he deems are “more integral to the coalition than they have been in the past”. One example of the “energy and new ideas” of students includes public, visual statements. He recalls, for instance, in 2009, “when the statues of emperors’ heads outside the Sheldonian were masked to show how people in detention were silenced”.

Protest safety is another area where students can bring fresh perspectives and contribute to the Coalition. Just a few years ago, Faye remembers feeling “fairly safe” when volunteering to support refugee rights, but a more antagonistic climate has spurred growing anxieties.

Protesters at Campsfield are now more frequently met with counter-protests by far-right organisations: “There’s more cases where there’s threats of far-right protests right outside the centre”, observes Faye. “I’m an international student myself and a lot of other international students are involved in the protests…it’s just a more precarious situation where we don’t want to lose our student visas through protesting”. For international students in particular, political participation can carry risks extending beyond arrest or disciplinary action, including apprehension around immigration status and visa security.

Even with these fears, she emphasises the significance of “individual participation and contribution” that “makes movements like this so powerful”. Faye recognises the strategic impact of introducing protest strategies – such as masking up and hosting protest safety workshops – to local campaign members: “I think there’s been one quite big contribution from the student side, bringing this kind of protest safety to the Campsfield movement as well.”

This is particularly relevant to the shifting dynamics with the police. A current obstacle, Bill explains,  facing the Coalition involves the location of their demonstrations: “There is an issue at the moment about our right to demonstrate at the gates of Campsfield as opposed to the road away from Campsfield, and we are trying to reestablish our right to demonstrate at the gate.” He stresses the non-violence of their action: “We’re quite happy without [the police] being there because we’re not actually cutting the fence…we’re just expressing an opinion.”

A spokesperson for Thames Valley Police told Cherwell: “We have a legal obligation to facilitate peaceful protest, but this must be balanced against the rights of others and the need to maintain access and safety. We will continue to work with partners and the local community to manage this appropriately.”

History of Campsfield House

As a former youth detention facility, Campsfield House was established in 1993 as an immigration detention centre. Campsfield was far from a ‘home’ despite its name. Here, asylum seekers and children have been held, immobilised within the secured walls, in a limbo of indefinite and uncertain detention. While immigration detention is often imagined through the imagery of U.S. border enforcement and ICE facilities, Campsfield represents a distinctly British system of confinement operating on Oxford’s doorstep.

Nearly 30,000 migrants were detained in Campsfield House before 2018. A history of resistance and abuse marked the centre’s 25 years before it closed. What was widely reported as riots and arson at Campsfield in 2007-08, alongside the escape of 26 detainees, exposed an internal history of revolt. 

A language of criminality tainted the reporting of Campsfield House; yet, most detainees have committed no criminal offences. Between 2023-24, there were 834 cases of unlawful detention, forcing the Home Office to pay nearly £12 million in compensation. Although immigration detention is an administrative process rather than a criminal justice procedure, the conditions behind the barbed-wire fence were uncannily similar to those of a prison. The contradiction remains central to criticisms of the detention system: people are confined in prison-like conditions without a criminal conviction or a fixed sentence.

Condemned for its treatment of detainees and deplorable conditions by human rights groups, the centre’s history is marred by hunger strikes and suicides. In 2005, more than 30 Zimbabwean detainees went on hunger strike. With no judicial oversight, a man who had been denied bail and detained for over four months died by suicide in the same year. Under the threat of deportation to Iraq, further hunger strikes were undertaken by 13 Kurdish asylum seekers in 2008, which escalated to 60 participants. The same pattern continued in 2010, where over half of the centre’s inmates went on hunger strike over the inhumane conditions. A second suicide occurred in 2011, a man was found dead in the shower. Between 2012 an 2013, a 16-year old-child was held in detention for 62 days.  Facing an unfixed sentence of detention, migrants in Campsfield Houseexisted in a prolonged state of uncertainty and suspension.

Campsfield House has been under the management of Mitie, a private-for-profit company, whose aim is “to treat those in our care with dignity, decency and respect, delivering a safe and healthy establishment which stands up to public scrutiny” since2011. Although 80% of the detainees found most staff were respectful, 41% of the detainees reported “feeling unsafe” in the centre in an inspection carried out in 2019. Further reports of use of excessive force and unsanitary conditions colour the centre’s history under the company.

The reopening of Campsfield House

“We thought it was a victory for us and the national movement against detention”, explains Bill, a founding member of the Coalition to Close Campsfield, when the centre was shut down following more than two decades of campaigning and monthly protests. 

But when Boris Johnson announced an expansion in the government’s use of immigration detention facilities in 2022, this triumph proved to be temporary. Under the Nationality and Borders Act 2022, which facilitated the Rwanda Plan, the Home Office increased its use of detention centres. On 28 June 2022, they announced their decision to reopen Campsfield House.

The Home Office’s plan was met with fierce opposition. In a statement by AVID, Keep Campsfield Closed and Border Criminologies addressed to the former Home Secretary, Yvette Cooper, 50 organisations were represented with 82 signatures. Such condemnation has also been expressed on an international level: the UN Refugee Agency is a vocal critic of the widespread use of immigration detention facilities, echoed by the Council of Europe’s Human Rights Commissioner. Opponents of Campsfield’s reopening, therefore, situate the issue within a broader international debate over the legality, ethics, and effectiveness of immigration detention.

The upwards trend of the detention of migrants since 2021 reflects an increasingly expansionist and hostile policy, fuelled by the Illegal Migration Act passed in July 2023. In 2025,22,661 people were detained, a figure up by 17% when compared to the previous year. When Campsfield reopened, Mitie received a new six-year contract worth £140 million. With plans of expansion, adding up to 400 new beds in the centre, Campsfield symbolises the national shift in immigration policy. For campaigners, the reopening is not an isolated local development but part of a wider hardening of Britain’s border regime.

Phase 2 of the development of Campsfield will be facilitated by a Crown Development Order. “This is a huge issue with central government overriding democratic procedure”, Bill explains. By using this order, the government bypasses local opposition, preventing the decision to be made by the local planning authority, Cherwell District Council. Demanding a public inquiry, this application is more than just an expansion strategy but also serves as “a challenge to democracy”, according to Bill.

Over time, the Coalition has in many ways become a unifying force. Bill told Cherwell: “It’s become much more, in some ways, deep-rooted.” The collaboration between Oxford STAR and the Coalition appears to have brought town and gown together. “The stance of opposition to Campsfield has spread throughout the community” to the students behind the limestone walls and spires. 

Despite Oxford STAR’s work, Faye reminds us that “left-wing student organisations are vastly under-resourced in terms of just the kind of institutional capacity that [they] have”. Yet, “fruitful collaboration”, such as the creation of Oxford Student Social Action Coalition, uniting Turl Street Homeless Action (TSHA), Food Rescuers, and New College Curry Runners, can multiply the resources available. In spite of these barriers, Faye urges students to think beyond their colleges: “What I do hope for is that more students do try to engage with these kind of things, rather than staying limited within their colleges or their specific student societies, [so] that they do try to engage with these broader, local and potentially regional, national issues, and offer their efforts where they can.” It took 25 years of internal and external resistance and over three hundred demonstrations to close Campsfield House for the first time. All hope, however, has not been lost: “You’ve got to be hopeful, haven’t you? So I’m hopeful”, Bill told me. 

There were 82,100 applications for asylum in 2025. By the end of 2024, over 123 million people were forced to flee their homes. As global conflicts increase, the need for student organisations like Oxford STAR is indispensable.  “It is quite inspiring to see that there are still so many students every year who are willing to get involved”, Faye said. “I think that is something that keeps my spirits up.”

Change to Rowing Clubs’ Rules of Racing for transgender athletes sparks backlash

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A change to Oxford University Rowing Clubs’ (OURCs) Rules of Racing means that only athletes assigned female at birth may now row in a Women’s boat. This applies to boats entered in both inter-collegiate and university-level competitions. 

Several student boat club captains have condemned the new rule change, made on 26th April. OURC’s Captain’s Meeting minutes highlight that issues were raised about the process for verifying athletes’ gender identity, with students particularly raising privacy concerns: under the new rule, claims could be brought against athletes regarding gender verification. To bring a claim against an athlete, complainants would be required to submit evidence, likely involving private information about the complainee, to OURCs, where findings could be seen as ‘outing’ individuals. 

Towards the close of the Captain’s Meeting, an informal vote was proposed to gauge support for the changes to the Rules of Racing. Forty-nine votes were cast against the new rules, whilst only one vote was cast in their favour. Five of those present abstained from voting. Another informal vote asked captains whether they were comfortable competing in an event under the newly imposed rules. Twenty-four votes were cast against this informal motion, with only eight votes in favour of competing under the new rules.

Multiple boat clubs have since released official statements opposing the rule change. In a statement on Instagram, Wadham College Boat Club described the changes as “disproportionate, discriminatory, and impossible to enforce”, adding that they will continue “to fight for the previous rules to be reinstated”. Somerville College Boat Club similarly wrote that they were “deeply saddened by the recent rule change… which threatens our long-standing values of inclusivity and friendship”. Multiple students also told Cherwell of plans that Somerville Boat Club has to encourage all colleges to wear LGBTQ+ wristbands at this term’s Summer VIIIs, the University’s four-day intercollegiate regatta.

The rule change has also faced strong backlash from Oxford’s broader student body. On Instagram, the President of Oxford University LGBTQ+ Society has released a statement on the topic: “I am personally investigating the matter, and it is my top priority to resolve it by whatever means necessary.” The President also told Cherwell that “no contact was made with OULGBTQ+ prior to the change” with all meetings held “after the change was decided”. The President, who also holds the part-time role of LGBTQ+ Officer at the Student Union (SU), was not contacted in their SU capacity either. 

However, a University spokesperson told Cherwell: “The University has met with and engaged with the LGBTQ reps several times throughout the process to facilitate boat clubs meeting their obligations in relation to law & governing body requirements.” They did not specify that these consultations occurred prior to the change. 

Ahead of Summer VIIIs, Oxford University Rowing Clubs have been required by the University to align their policy on competitive eligibility with British Rowing, after previously only being encouraged to do so: in an update to University policy in accordance with UK law, introduced on 16th March 2026, the Director of Sport informed OURCs via letter that University policy now required clubs to align with NGB policy and asked that OURCs comply as soon as was practically possible.

Whilst OURCs has been aware of its requirement to update the Rules of Racing to align with national guidance, following the letter from the Director of Sport, the Captain’s Meeting minutes state that there had been an internal understanding between OURCs and Sports Federation that, should any changes be made, they would be done at the end of the academic year, after the competitive season was over. However, on 24th March onwards, a deadline for the rule change of 31st March was communicated to OURCs by the OURCs Senior Member, on behalf of the Proctors. 

Given a number of OURCs’ constitutional clauses, holding that OURCs is bound to organise inter-college rowing competitions, conduct all activities in line with University equality policies, and conduct events within the bounds of conditions that the Proctors attach to the running of the event, OURCs has been required to make the rule change to fulfil its constitutional objectives. Summer VIIIs could not proceed without compliance with the rule change, given the club’s reliance upon the insurance provided by the University for the event. 

Subsequently, OURCs introduced a new power in the Constitution, authorised by the Proctors, permitting the Director of Sport to require changes to the Oxford University Rowing Clubs (OURCs) rules in compliance with the University of Oxford’s Diversity and Inclusion policy. OURCs is a student-run organisation which serves as a federation for the Oxford University Boat Club (OUBC) and all 36 Oxford college boat clubs.

Since September 2023, British Rowing policy has been that only people who are assigned female at birth will be eligible to compete in the Women’s category, whilst trans, non-binary, and all other individuals will be eligible to compete in the Open category.

Previously, OURCs’ Rules of Racing stated that, “trans people should be permitted to participate in their affirmed gender identity” at “less competitive levels”, including college-level rowing. Since January 2019, OURCs has allowed for self-identification in all divisions of Torpids and Summer VIIIs. 

On 8th October 2025, the Sports Federation updated its eligibility guidance, mirroring Cambridge University’s guidance update in September 2025, to advise sports clubs to align their Trans eligibility policies with their relevant National Governing Body. At this time, OURCs chose to delay alignment as British Rowing’s policies, which were (and remain) under review. This was possible as OURCs events are not run under the auspices of British Rowing. 

From this point on, Cambridge University Boat Club required oarspersons to self-declare their gender identification to their Captain before entering any Women’s Crew or Mixed Crew into a CUCBC event. If they did not meet British Rowing Women’s Category eligibility criteria from British Rowing’s “Trans and Non-Binary Competition Eligibility Policy and Procedures”, their captain must amend their entry to an event before its first heat (including the Getting on Race), removing and replacing any individuals who have declared that they are not eligible. This rule remains under review in accordance with British Rowing’s policy. According to minutes from the Oxford Captains’ Meeting, “it was made clear…that there was no choice but to comply with the request [made by the University to change the rule, in line with national guidance] and that failure to do so would result in OURCs’ deregistration as a University sports club and inability to run competitions, effective immediately”.

British Rowing’s policy claims that it is fully committed to “ensur[ing] Trans people can continue their participation in rowing whilst and after transitioning”. Their 2023 Competition Eligibility and Procedures policy, now being enforced by Oxford University Rowing Clubs, proposed two categories alongside the Women’s: an Open Category, where all individuals are eligible to compete, and a Mixed category, offered at any level of competition, providing 50% of the crew are eligible from the women’s category stated above. British Rowing encourages trans and non-binary participants to take part in “recreational activity” (non-competing) in the gender they identify as. 

Above college-level rowing, decisions regarding athlete qualification for Varsity competitions have previously been handled on a case-by-case basis, with joint input from both Oxford and Cambridge Directors of Sport. Registered University sports clubs and colleges’ sport organising committees are required to align their policies with the approach and criteria used by the relevant National Governing Body, including British Rowing, when considering the eligibility of transgender athletes.

The Student Union has stressed that it is essential that the University create an environment where all individuals “regardless of their gender identity, expression or sexual orientation, feel safe, welcome, and empowered to participate in sports and physical activities”.

A spokesperson for the University told Cherwell that it “remains committed to being an inclusive university”. The spokesperson also added that regarding competitive sports, “registered sports clubs and committees are required to follow the policies and eligibility criteria set by the relevant national governing body” as “this is necessary to ensure alignment with competition frameworks as well as compliance with the law”.

Hidden Gems: ‘The Storytellers’ at Worcester College

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I was recently given the opportunity to attend the press view of Worcester College’s new sculpture exhibition, The Storytellers. Set in the college’s breathtaking gardens, the exhibition, expertly curated by Iwona Blazwick and Katie Delamere, is a journey through contemporary figurative sculpture, mostly from the 2020s. It is also a rare example of an exhibition whose setting complements and transforms the artworks. From the first moments, The Storytellers feels unusually thoughtful, generous, and alive. 

The exhibition, which is free of charge, covers a lot of ground, both literally and figuratively. Despite its breadth, though, , The Storytellers is one of the best-curated exhibitions I have seen in a long time. Covering a large area of the college’s gardens, The Storytellers is split into five ‘acts’, each named after a line from Shakespeare, in an homage to the Buskins, the college’s student drama troupe. These acts cover far-reaching themes: “One touch of nature makes the whole world kin” (from Troilus and Cressida) shows sculptures which morph the human with the vegetal, while “Thou, Nature, art my goddess” (from King Lear) delves into cultural tradition with its depictions of totemic deities. This kind of structure could easily have felt forced, but instead it gives the exhibition a theatrical logic.

There was clearly a lot of thought put into the curation of this exhibition, as combined with their intrinsic meaning, each sculpture’s location fits with its aesthetic appearance. Artworks emerge from hedges, sit beside water, or contrast against the college architecture. This makes for a cohesive, engaging, and visually interesting experience, in which every artwork is perfectly and poignantly placed, rewarding both close attention and casual wandering. 

The artists featured are greatly varied, with 14 artists coming from all over the world, all with something vastly different to say in their work. Despite this, The Storytellers doesn’t feel as though it is spreading itself too thin – I found that the overarching theme of ‘human in conversation with nature’ binds together all of the pieces, despite their differences in material, scale, or mood. The artworks vary in quality from ‘nice’ to ‘beautiful’, with no real lowlights, and there are enough highlights for something to resonate with anybody who visits. For me, it was Daniel Silver’s duo of sculptures, Fly With Me and Me, found in the main quad, that were the most striking. Silver has said that he wants to create “something you can look at and feel looked back by”, and these works achieve precisely that. By having all of the sculptures be of figures, the exhibition allows the viewer to engage in dialogue with the artworks, and in Silver’s figures, the reciprocal gaze is palpable.

As if that wasn’t enough, the exhibition is checkpointed by various works of performance art. The first, performed by recent Ruskin graduate Jarad Jackson, was a mesmerising piece of postmodern dance, bringing movement and bodily presence into conversation with the stillness of the sculptures. The second, performed by Lorna Ough, Hazel Dowling, and Lauren Dyer-Amazeen, created a delicate acoustic soundscape against the backdrop of the gardens. These performances felt less like decorative additions than extensions of the exhibition’s central concern of the relationship between bodies, stories, and place, and they helped make the exhibition feel like a living encounter, rather than a static display.

However, the star of The Storytellers is, of course, the gardens themselves. Though I have visited them before for an afternoon stroll, this exhibition made me appreciate the beauty of Worcester College’s natural scenery in a way I never did before. As I travelled across the quads, around the lake, and through the orchard, I felt totally at peace, even on the cloudy day on which I saw it. The sculptures appeared as figures emerging from the setting, rather than objects simply placed there. The Storytellers is an exhibition which is completely dependent on the natural environment around it, and this is one of its greatest strengths. As new flowers blossom in the late spring, and as the sun reemerges from the clouds, the exhibition will change, and the pieces will take on new meaning. Shadows will fall differently; surfaces will catch the light in new ways; the gardens themselves will become part of the storytelling. Few exhibitions make such persuasive use of time, weather, and place. 

I therefore find myself strongly encouraging readers to visit this exhibition this term, before it closes on the 5th of July. If not for the sculptures, which are as varied and thought-provoking as they are nice to look at, then for the gardens, which in the coming few weeks will only get more beautiful to stroll through. At its best, the exhibition does what outdoor sculpture should: it changes the way you look at the space around it. The Storytellers, for me, is both one of Oxford’s hidden gems this term, and one of its most rewarding cultural experiences.

The Oxford Union has a far-right problem

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The Oxford Union has regularly been the subject of public outrage. From the 1933 ‘King and Country’ debate, upon which the Union, now, regularly looks back with pride, to the fracas surrounding a former presidential candidate’s comments on Charlie Kirk’s assassination, its financial model rests primarily upon attracting attention, an exchange of its establishment credibility and reputation in return for the heady fumes of public prominence. It is on those fumes that YouTube revenues and each year’s membership drives rest. So there is nothing particularly objectionable about the Union seeking speakers who will ignite that public debate and draw that attention, an even harder task in the modern media landscape.

However, with its invitations to controversial YouTuber and former UKIP candidate, Carl Benjamin, and to EDL founder and former BNP member Tommy Robinson, the Union has crossed a line. Benjamin’s invite has now been rescinded, but to invite one of Britain’s leading reactionaries, opposed to both feminism and Islam, to the Union would do nothing more than give him a chance to air his long-held views and gain credibility off the Union’s back. It took Benjamin five years to apologise to Jess Philips, an MP who has been a vocal campaigner against violence against women and girls, for saying he “wouldn’t even rape her”. This is definitive evidence that he is not some right-wing thinker or campaigner, but a provocateur of the lowest order, willing to sacrifice the well-being of others for the advancement of his own, narrow aims. Few have done more to promote the screed of anti-feminism online than his channel, Sargon of Akkad, and at a time when Oxbridge faces a reckoning with its own failure to protect students, his presence was nothing but a detriment to the University – sparking outcry from a number of student societies and organisations.

When contacted for comment, Carl Benjamin stated that, “my views are nothing more than the common-sense views of the average Englishman,” and that he, “appreciate[s] the flattery of the radicals who oppose me”. 

The invitation of Tommy Robinson – which still stands at the time of writing – is even more worrying. Again, like Benjamin, Robinson has been part of the steadily increasing right-wing extremist movement in this country, often targeting Muslims and immigrant communities. His rap sheet of criminal offences is long, and he was a prominent figure in the ‘Unite the Kingdom’ rally held last year, where Elon Musk spoke, saying: “Violence is coming,” and “you either fight, or you die”. This came after 2024’s protests in the wake of the Southport stabbings, for which Robinson publicly blamed immigrant and Muslim communities. His list of political affiliations is a who’s-who of the far right in the UK, from the BNP to UKIP, and now Advance UK. 

As I said earlier, there is nothing inherently wrong with the Union inviting right-wing or controversial figures; it is both how it has always functioned and how attention is captured. But there seems to be a double standard playing out in British public life, which the Union, as a centre of elite opinion, perpetrates. These extremist right-wingers, who actively promote violence against individuals and whole groups of people, are welcomed into these spaces with little challenge. Comparative figures on the left, or those who might actively challenge them, draw less attention; they don’t bring the same viewer counts and challenge the underlying social structures that maintain privilege. They were happy in 2007 to welcome Nick Griffin, the leader of the BNP, and David Irving, one of the UK’s most notorious Holocaust deniers, and are more than happy to roll out the red carpet again.

These rightwingers are accepted into respectable institutions like the Union and given the thin sheen of legitimacy under the guise of ‘debate’. Anyone who has watched a Union debate knows there is little chance of these men experiencing a Damascene conversion on the Union’s benches and repenting for their wrongs, or genuinely engaging with the arguments put against them. They are simply there to spout their normal lines, receive polite applause from the besuited ranks of Oxford’s students, and further their dangerous, damaging campaigns.

It might be argued that they are simply speaking into the void – that there is no need for the student body, or wider public, to consider what they say as anything serious. But history would disagree with this blase stance, which could only be held by someone who hasn’t been targeted by these groups. Just a year ago, Robinson whipped up right-wing fury to attack hotels holding asylum seekers, inspiring a broader climate of fear for the UK’s BAME communities. Robinson founded the EDL, the spiritual successor to the National Front that terrorised Black and Asian communities in the 1970s and 1980s.

My own family were harassed by the National Front, my grandfather knocked to the ground whilst out shopping with family. The Union might be a forum of free speech, but this self-serving gratification serves only to deny that it has any role in defining the boundaries of debate in a respectable society. To the Union, the lives of working-class communities, of BAME communities, are fair game for a debate, for something to list on their executives’ CVs.

In a decade, they will likely not remember the debate, but those who have to shelter at home, afraid of the baying mobs on the street, or who feel like they have committed a crime simply by being born with a skin tone below sepia, will remember. Our increasingly fractious and divided society will remember, as institutions like the Union make it clear that if you are a minority of any stripe, they don’t think you matter. Their wellbeing, your livelihoods, can and will be sacrificed for views, for cash, for attention.

Toni Servillo shines in thoughtful assisted dying drama: ‘La Grazia’ in review

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Does Big Tobacco sponsor Paolo Sorrentino’s films? Almost certainly not, but their money would be worse spent elsewhere. One of the lasting images from Sorrentino’s latest feature, La Grazia, is of Toni Servillo smoking on the parapets of the Quirinal Palace overlooking Rome. Servillo’s expression is enigmatic, the view exquisite. As viewers of Sorrentino’s 2013 Oscar-winning triumph The Great Beauty will know, there are few things eminently more watchable than Toni Servillo slowly dragging on a cigarette.

La Grazia sees Sorrentino reunited with his long-time muse – and what a welcome reunion it is. Servillo plays the ageing, lame duck president Mariano De Santis, a legal expert who is a “jurist”, not a politician (sound familiar?). He would normally be facing his last six months in office with the same detachment and letter-of-the-law rigidity that have earned him the nickname “Reinforced Concrete”. However, a bill passed through parliament on assisted dying must be signed by him to become law, and thus, the president is faced with a dilemma. If he signs, he is an “assassin”; if he rejects the bill, he is a “torturer”. Two petitions for presidential pardons for convicted murderers complicate the picture: De Santis has the power to offer the titular “grace” to those on all types of life sentences, medical and criminal.  

A tired and grieving De Santis (he lost his wife some years before) proves an excellent vehicle for the film’s meditations on life, loss, and legacy. Who better to weigh up the suitability of euthanasia than a man who has seemingly lost all flair for life himself, who falls asleep when he prays and is still obsessed with an extramarital affair his late wife may have had 40 years ago? “Who owns our days?” is the question that De Santis keeps coming back to with the help of his daughter and legal advisor, Dorotea (an effectively exasperated Anna Ferzetti). But the film also asks: “Why should we care who owns our days?” Though De Santis is a genuine Catholic, the existentialism at the heart of the film is reminiscent of the tortured questioning of a lapsed Catholic at confession.

Boy, does Servillo have range. This is not his first time playing an Italian president, yet the contrast with his muted, shuffling Gulio Andreotti in Il Divo, and his exuberant Silvio Berlusconi in Loro is remarkable. He is able to convey a world of emotion in the most subtle of movements. It is no wonder the Venice Film Festival awarded him the Best Actor award.

As in those films, all the hallmarks of a Sorrentino film are here, if rather downplayed. The trademark big set-piece scenes do not disappoint. The Portuguese president’s welcome to the palace in biblical rain is reason alone to head to the cinema. A dinner for veterans of the Alpini, Italy’s mountain regiment, at which De Santis is the guest of honour, is profoundly moving. As ever with Sorrentino, the soundtrack is full of thumping electronic music, although this time with the humorous (you’ll see why) addition of some Italian rap. You will leave the cinema with a host of unexpected, striking images – and a surprising affection for a horse called Elvis.

This is the most melancholic of Sorrentino’s films that I have seen, but it was nonetheless much funnier than I expected from a film about assisted dying. From the reactions of those around me, the Ultimate Picture Palace audience certainly agreed. Much of the comic relief comes in the form of the acerbic Coco Valori (Milvia Marigliano), De Santis’ old friend, whom I could happily watch an entire film about. (Or maybe I already have? As a critic-cum-impresario, she is like a female version of Servillo’s man about town in The Great Beauty.)

If the film fails to fully capture the deep sadness of the assisted dying debate, it is due in part to the at-times clunky dialogue, also, unfortunately, something that can be expected of Sorrentino’s films. The ending might strike some as too saccharine, but if you allow yourself to be swept up by the admittedly contrived plot, you will leave the cinema feeling pleasantly revived. Sorrentino’s more muted direction here might also surprise those who came expecting the bright colours and relentless opulence of The Great Beauty. Sorrentino’s famous maximalism may be gone, but the dry humour is certainly still there, just not wrapped in a bouquet of colour but instead a dull, wintry palette.

Will this be the definitive film about euthanasia? Probably not. But it certainly makes you ponder the similarities between death and justice, and to question the suitability of those who wield such decisions. If nothing else, it is worth going for Toni Servillo’s performance alone.

Formula One’s controversial 2026 regulations

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Formula One – F1 – is widely regarded as the pinnacle of motorsport, 22 feats of technical excellence racing around the world as drivers push their cars to the limit in pursuit of glory.

At least, that’s what F1 is supposed to be. Under the 2026 technical regulations, however, the sport has turned into a game of Mario Kart, with push-to-pass overtakes, computer programming deciding the outcome of qualifying, and teams turning to the age-old technical trick of ‘switching it off and on again’ when things go wrong.

It would be an understatement to say fans are divided on the new regulations. Even before the season began in Australia, there were concerns about the quality of the overtaking, the sound of the cars, and whether these regulations upheld ‘true’ racing.

And the ‘hybrid’ part is pertinent, as although F1 cars have had electrical boost since 2016 (the ‘turbo-hybrid era’), the 2026 regulations brought radical changes to the power unit. The removal of the MGU-H (a battery component which harvested power from the turbo) and the switch to a 50-50 split between electrical and internal combustion power meant a rethink of the way F1 operates, prompted by a desire to make F1 more sustainable.

Changes to a sport people love are never uncontroversial; imagine how football fans would feel if suddenly teams could score half goals. Historically, any changes to F1’s technical regulations (particularly concerning engines) have never gone down well. 

When V10s were abandoned, F1 fans missed the noise. When the V8 was swapped for the V6 hybrid engines, fans complained about Mercedes’ dominance. Similar complaints are being made now, but the concerns with these regulations stretch far deeper than what noise the car makes (although this is a worry). 

Chief among the problems is the safety risks posed by the way the cars harvest power, with potentially massive differences in speed causing some terrifying accidents, as evidenced by Haas’ Ollie Bearman, who had a heavy crash at the Japanese Grand Prix when approaching the much slower Alpine of Franco Colapinto.

If one driver is entering a corner, lifting and coasting, and the car behind is using ‘overtake mode’, where drivers can push a button to unlock an extra +0.5MJ (Megajoules) of power, the closing speed can be monumental. This was noted by McLaren Team Principal Andreas Stella before the season began, but it has only now been widely noticed due to Bearman’s crash.

Another problem with the F1 regulations is the inauthenticity of the racing, due to the supposed ease of overtaking. Although superclipping – a method of recharging the battery –  is a technical necessity due to the importance of the battery, it has a noticeable impact on racing. Halfway down a straight section of track, there is an audible ‘clip’ to the sound produced by the car as it reduces its speed in order to harvest power.

This has been widely criticised by drivers, with McLaren’s Lando Norris saying, “It still hurts your soul when you see your speed dropping so much – 56 kph down the straight.” Fans are equally unimpressed. Forcing cars to slow down is the opposite of what the pinnacle of motorsport should be promoting.

The new technical regulations also allow overtakes far more easily than previously, with cars passing and repassing each other on the same lap. “Honestly, [during] some of the racing… I didn’t even want to overtake Lewis”, described Norris. It’s just that my battery deploys… I can’t control it. So, I overtake him, and then I have no battery left, so he just flies past. This is not racing, this is yo-yoing.” The idea that drivers are not entirely in control of their cars has produced a ‘computer says no’ racing, where driver inputs do not align with the preprogrammed engine settings and battery deployment, leading to the car doing the opposite of what the driver was expecting. Ferrari’s Charles Leclerc, for example, saw his sprint qualifying lap in China ruined by the engine switching on to a different setting due to Leclerc momentarily lifting off the throttle.

All this aside, we must appreciate that these regulations are an attempt to make Formula One more sustainable. It is no secret that motor racing is not the greenest sport in the world. Flying to 20+ countries to host a motor race is never going to be an environmentalist’s dream. Switching to biofuels and generating 50% of the car’s power from electricity is a step in the right direction. But these regulations are not only designed to protect the future of the planet, but also the future of the sport.

It may seem on the surface that F1 is doing extraordinarily well: Drive to Survive brought a wider fanbase, and the sport is more popular than ever. But, going into the 2026 season, F1 were facing a situation where there could be only two engine manufacturers (Mercedes and Ferrari) in the sport. The 2026 technical regulations were a compromise resulting from discussions between many engine manufacturers, from Honda to Porsche, to Audi and Ford, removing the costly MGU-H and making a raft of changes to encourage more manufacturers into the sport.

Such are the issues with the 2026 regulations that a summit of F1’s teams has been convened to discuss: this includes potential modifications to the rules to solve many of the problems outlined above, particularly those concerning safety. The primary solutions which have been suggested are changing the amount of energy which can be harvested through super-clipping: increasing this to the same amount as that which can be harvested through lifting and coasting, there would be no need to slow down prematurely, which would prevent the gap in closing speeds.

Alternatively, F1 and the FIA are considering reducing the amount of power which can be harvested entirely, bringing the level of harvesting down to 250kW or 200kW. Doing so would slow the cars down, raising the question as to whether fans would prefer slower, better racing, or faster cars, leading to racing that resembles the chaos of Mario Kart.

In a sport where speed is everything, the fact that F1’s governing body is even considering a move which would drastically slow cars down (with reports of this change adding a second per lap to drivers’ laptimes) shows how fundamentally flawed these regulations are. Drivers are unhappy, teams are unhappy, and, perhaps most concerningly for F1’s future, fans are unhappy.

Galliano for the masses (on the Zara sale rack)

The fashion world is mourning the loss of John Galliano. Not a literal death, but something closer to a fall from grace. The designer, who defined an era at Dior, has entered into a two-year partnership with the fast fashion giant Zara. For some, this is a cause for celebration, a Robin Hood-esque democratisation of his genius, so to speak – after all, Galliano’s archival pieces remain some of the most sought after by celebrity stylists and Vinted warriors alike. However, for others, this feels like a betrayal: my initial reaction was admittedly one of shock and a sense of disappointment. God knows I have a weakness for a Zara sale, but surely, even in the current economic climate, Galliano didn’t have to end up here.

Galliano’s work has long existed within the realm of artistry rather than mere design, famously describing “the joy of dressing” as “an art”. His legendary tenure at Dior, spanning from 1997-2011, was known for its theatrical runway shows, with the catwalks being transformed into a stage upon which he paraded fantastical works oozing whimsy and fantasy. He drew inspiration from everything from Ancient Egypt and chinoiserie, to the indulgence and excess of Paris in La Belle Epoque, as can be seen in the pageantry of his Spring/Summer 1997 collection, metamorphosing the runway into a debutante ball at its most dreamy. Put simply, Galliano walked so Carrie Bradshaw and her Dior saddle bag could run. Bringing the same level of creativity to Maison Margiela as to the high street could, in theory, be seen as a kind of fashion egalitarianism. Nonetheless, I would argue that the mixed response to this partnership suggests something more complicated is at play. Galliano is far from an unproblematic figure, facing prosecution for antisemitic comments which ended his tenure at Dior in 2011. Yet I feel as though his appointment is not an isolated incident, but rather representative of a shift in the wider perception of fashion itself.  

What was once an art form has become about consumption and profit – art equals transaction in this capitalist economy. The rise of fast fashion lies at the centre of this tension, a double-edged sword. On the one hand, brands like Zara were the first to replicate the trend-led styles of the runway, making them accessible to a broader socioeconomic audience than ever before. On the other hand, it comes at a significant environmental and ethical cost, one that is becoming harder to ignore in an age of climate awareness and with the increased prevalence of alternatives such as second-hand shopping and conscious consumption. The very speed that makes Zara’s model accessible also depends on overproduction and disposability, with garments designed for short-term wear as opposed to longevity. In this sense, what is initially framed as democratisation begins to look more like a dilution, offering the illusion of participation whilst simultaneously undermining the craft and permanence that once defined fashion as an art form. Perhaps most interesting is the announcement’s wording, which seems to implicitly frame Galliano’s involvement as a form of fashion egalitarianism. After all, the collection’s stated purpose is to bring high fashion and dramatic design to a broader audience through the combination of Galliano’s couture process with fast-fashion capabilities.

This isn’t the first time that Zara has dabbled in the world of high fashion, collaborating with other acclaimed designers such as Narciso Rodriguez and Stefano Pilati, even releasing a capsule collection with Kate Moss. However, this new partnership – between a designer once shunned from his creative industry and a fast fashion giant – speaks to the changing idea of luxury in fashion. These kinds of high-low collaborations have become commonplace in the fashion world since H&M launched its first designer partnership with Karl Lagerfeld in 2004, building an entire business model upon the merging of luxury appeal and mass-market accessibility. This underscores how the industry is rethinking value, access and who gets to buy into trends. Exclusivity is no longer the sole marker of value, with access and immediacy becoming equally important, fundamentally reworking the idea of who gets to participate in fashion and at what cost.

And yet, for all my reservations, I can’t entirely reject the appeal. This is the contradiction at the heart of modern fashion, a growing awareness of its ethical failings, paired with an undeniable pull towards accessibility and trends. Fast fashion no longer thrives on ignorance, but on a kind of covertly conscious complicity. Consumers understand the environmental and ethical costs and yet are still drawn in by the immediacy and affordability. Frankly, if you’re telling me I can stroll into Westgate and buy Galliano without having to forfeit the entirety of my student loan, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be tempted.

By Victoria Corfield

A mini-guide to the Italian restaurants of Oxford

Oxford is home to a great variety of Italian restaurants – from casual chains to quieter independent businesses, there are options for everyone. The Cherwell Lifestyle team decided to combine  our forces and put together a mini-guide to the Italian restaurants to suit all of your needs. 

Bbuona – ideal for a light, social meal

Bbuona is an independent café on the edge of Gloucester Green, whose speciality is the oval-shaped ‘pinsa’: a Roman-style pizza alternative which uses a mixture of flours to offer a lighter and more digestible option to the traditional Italian favourite. Bbuona’s sourdough is indeed light and airy, and although somewhat smaller than a traditional pizza, I found made for a very filling meal. The service is extremely friendly, and the dining experience feels closer to sitting in an authentic Italian deli than in the centre of Oxford. The price of a pinsa varies between £9.95 and £17.95, depending on the toppings (all of which consist of a combination of high-quality deli products). There is also a (multi-person) option to try all the toppings for £25pp. I opted for the parmigiana, a pinsa deliciously infused with the tastes of aubergine parmigiana. The table next to us was all sat in their sub fusc and sporting red carnations, and I reckon that with the combination of fresh, filling Italian food, and a chilled aperol spritz on the side, they might have found the perfect post-exam ritual. 

Gusto – a cosy upscale dinner  

The atmosphere was cosy, with flickering incandescent light. The menu was surprisingly extensive, creative too. There are interesting takes on classic dishes, like their signature starter: dough petals. It’s set at a reasonable price point, given that the portion sizes are generous, but not massive. However, it is certainly pricier than more student-friendly options. Perhaps one to opt for when family visits and can pick up the bill. The food comes out quickly, almost too quickly. There is hardly any time to digest in between courses. 

We ordered five dishes in total: two starters and three mains. I had the garlic rosemary focaccia first. The flavour was subtle and light, but the bread was fairly dry. My grandmother reported that her Caesar salad was excellent. The romaine was crisp, and the dressing was rich and flavourful. The salad itself needed to be chopped up a bit more, as it was hard to eat. 

My pollo arabiatta was particularly delicious; the chilli was light and sweet. It was not spicy at all, which I was not expecting, but the flavours more than made up for it. My grandmother’s sea bass was excellent as well, with a non-traditional red sauce, a combination of pine nuts and roasted peppers, creating a unique flavour profile. The fish itself was good, tasting quite like a branzino, flaky and moist. It was cooked perfectly. Finally, my grandfather had lasagna. Once more, the sauce was a unique take on traditional lasagna – closer to a penne alla vodka pink sauce. An unusual, but excellent take on a classic dish. 

Zizzi – a reliable, casual spot

While Zizzi is a chain restaurant, it is not to be overlooked. We left satisfied, full, and happy. The restaurant is very large and open, with lots of dining space, and so we definitely didn’t feel rushed. The service is very friendly. 

The menu is quite large, and we  choose to try two ‘rustica’ pizzas with some fries. These pizzas are much larger than average, stretched by hand to form a thin, crispy base. The ‘primavera’ had an array of fresh vegetables, with delicious Genovese pesto – a lovely vegetarian option for those wanting a change from the basic Margherita. The pepperoni campagna was, as described by my table-mate: “a beautiful blend of two classic pizzas”; the pepperoni worked wonderfully with the mushroom and ham. Both pizzas tasted even better with a generous drizzle of chilli oil. The fries were some of the best we’ve tried – deliciously crispy without being too greasy. 

We appreciated their small touches, like the complimentary paprika pasta crisps we were offered while we waited for our meal, and the small cup of hot chocolate that arrived with the bill. Prices are perhaps higher than other restaurants of a similar standard, with pizzas ranging from around £16 to £18, though there are many offers available (use your Tesco Clubcard points here). 

Actually, Trinifree is a state of mind

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“Now is the time for joyhealthhappinessmaxxing”, reads the text I sent to my friends before we moved back in for Trinity. Just over two weeks later, it has proven true. Every time someone  has asked how I’m doing, I tell them the truth: it’s my happiest Oxford term yet. And it’s not just me; everyone’s dopamine seems to have tripled. Sure, the beautiful weather is a not-insignificant reason for the drastic mental shift – the other day I stepped out into a middling amount of rain and experienced my first real negative emotion so far this term – but there has to be something more to it. 

So what actually characterises a Trinifree? So far, Trinifree is shaping up to be an attitude, not a fact. This, of course, may ring hollow coming from a second-year English student with no exams to speak of, but materially, I’m only juggling slightly fewer extracurriculars than in Michaelmas or Hilary. Nothing significant seems to have changed. So why the sudden happiness, the abrupt joie de vivre, the renewed zest for life? Where does it stem from?

For me, at least, I’ve chalked it up to no longer overcommitting. It sounds counterintuitive to advise scaling back during a term where most of the humanities students you know are the freest they’ll ever be, but take it from me: I didn’t scale back even when I was at my busiest, and it wasn’t pretty. Filling all my time with committees would be enjoyable, meaningful work, work undertaken in the gardens instead of the library, but work nonetheless. I wanted the time to work and play. This time, going into the vac, I signed up for a normal amount of responsibilities for a normal number of societies. I’m very happy to report my quest for a mentally stable Oxford term has so far been a smashing success. 

Experiencing Trinifree with a proper “Trinittude” (Trinifree-attitude) means the chance to do things I would have considered unfathomable during the past two terms, like take a nap in the afternoon or resolve to never pull an all-nighter in order to finish an essay. Now I have the chance to relax between lectures and talk to acquaintances I’ve always wanted to be closer to,  instead of spending every free moment completing assignments. I’m catching up with old friends and TV shows instead of fitting meetings into my calendar like Tetris blocks, or resorting to a meal deal because I have no time to head back to college (my current meal deal count this term stands at a whopping zero).

Michaelmas was characterised by miserably cold days, Hilary by miserably wet ones. By those standards, anything would be an improvement. But the change isn’t just good relatively, it’s objectively an upgrade. My most convincing anecdotal evidence is how my dreams have shifted from Matt Damon telling me I’d been rejected from all my internships to my current ones about my football club losing the league. 

To clarify, for those wondering: yes, you can be both locked in and Trinifree. Its namesake freedom isn’t about being free of exams or academic commitments; it’s about being free to be spontaneous, to host a podcast, cook a meal that takes more than thirty minutes to make, try new sports, or actually read the books for your essays. Even to sit down and write articles like these. Last week, I did extra reading beyond the starred compulsory ones and was astounded by how good it felt to be on top of things, to have the time to do things because you want to and not because you have to. I’m undeniably Trinifree; I’m also undeniably locked in, even if that locking in doesn’t necessarily happen in the library every day.

So take heart. It’s not impossible to be Trinifree if you have exams; it’s just a little harder. What defines a Trinifree is the resolve to not let anything consume your life, whether it’s revising for exams, summer applications, or society work. It’s a commitment to finding ways to enjoy each day, even if you enjoy some more so than others. All of this begs the question: Is Trinifree timeless? Can one have a Freechaelmas, or a Hilafree? Well, insofar as one can be Trinifree shivering in their puffer on a rainy walk to lectures, I suppose so – although maybe there’s a reason those don’t roll off the tongue quite so smoothly.