Friday, May 23, 2025
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Shaving – removing hair or removing choice

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Hair is amazing. It contains nanoparticles of gold, regulates temperature and releases pheromones. Why then is such an incredible biological feature criticised, demonised and politicised to such an extent? Having spoken to people of many genders, it seems that body hair is caught in a conflict between the public—conforming to or challenging social expectations, and the private—whether we have the ability or the functionality to physically remove body hair.

To shave or not to shave is a deeply personal decision, but more often than not it is claimed by the public sphere. The relationship between a person’s body and their hair is one of the most complex and interesting narratives of social history. Ancient Egyptians, Romans and Greeks all agreed that pubic hair was disagreeable, and used tools called “volsellas”, a kind of proto-tweezer, to manage growth.

In contrast, Catherine de Medici, the Queen of France in the late 16th century, favoured the complete opposite and forbade any of the ladies in her court from shaving their pubic area. Her contemporary, Queen Elizabeth I, endorsed the fashionable removal of hair from the top of the forehead to create the illusion of a longer, more elegant face. Walnut oil or even cat faeces would be rubbed into the skin to deter regrowth.

In more recent times, the launch of Gillette’s 1915 Milady Décolleté campaign was the first to encourage the shaving of under arms. This corresponded with the increasing popularity for sleeveless dresses, and in the same year, Harper Bazaar preached that hairless armpits were a “necessity” for the modern woman.Luckily, most people today are not subjected to the same level of policing as our historical ancestors, but within the small, every-day lives we occupy, the way we manage and present our bodies can feel like a very conscious statement.

Speaking to many different people in Oxford, much of the feedback came with negativity—one person described to me how childhood insecurity and teasing over hair had affected their perception of their adult body. They admitted that “my ideal presentation would be hair on my head, eyebrows, eyelashes and literally nowhere else”. Another girl admitted: “I know that my decision to shave is probably due to internalised misogyny, and every time I go through the pain of waxing my upper lip I question why I do it”.

However, while it’s true that the obvious double standards of masculine and feminine beauty call into question the sexism behind the tradition of shaving, it’s also important to discredit the heteronormative assumption that women simply shave to be considered “attractive” to men. Some enjoy the feel of smooth legs, while others appreciate the benefits of shaving, such as the skin’s increased collagen production.

In many cases, shaving can be a very individual declaration of self-confidence. Emily said, “I started shaving every day after getting out of a relationship with an abusive partner. She pushed me to not shave because she was obsessed with being more feminine than me, so removing all my body hair has always been really personally empowering”.

Likewise, many people find that leaving body hair uncultivated is equally empowering. The acceptance of your body as it truly and naturally exists can be a very fulfilling experience—why else would hair grow if it was supposed to be stripped away again as soon as it surfaced? Taisie agreed: “I haven’t shaved my legs or underarms for a year and I feel good about that because it makes me feel more ‘me’”.

However, the decision to let hair remain au naturel can be difficult, as Miranda told me: “I stopped shaving completely the summer before I started university. I felt very self- conscious at first, and in the summer would cover my legs and armpits until I convinced myself not to care. I’m happy I managed to remove the internalised fear and stigma I had about body hair and make-up, and I feel much happier in my body these days”.

As an act of reclamation, last year Juliette decided to stop waxing her armpits and dye them instead. She explained “one of the reasons I originally dyed my armpit hair was so that people couldn’t tell me that I was just neglecting myself. It was sort of a statement of ‘nope, I didn’t just forget to shave’”. Within these conversations, one sentiment that quickly emerged was how many of those who chose not to shave were aware of their privilege. Taisie said: “I think that the body hair positivity movement doesn’t sufficiently interrogate who it’s really accessible for. As a femme cis white woman, my body hair isn’t policed like it is for other people”.

Francesca, who is Jewish and dark-haired, voices this issue—she feels that “not shaving is something that many people seem to take a great deal of pride in; the idea that ‘I don’t shave which makes me super feminist’”. The decision to ‘just not shave’ is very differently weighted for dark-haired girls, who Francesca said: “feel constantly embarrassed and self-conscious in order to fully ‘perform’ this kind of feminism”. Miriam likewise emphasised this disparity: “being mixed race means I have a lot of dark body hair and I used to get really stressed out about the little black dots that remain even after shaving. My blonde friend once asked if I’d forgotten to shave when I had literally spent all morning doing so. Because of this, I spent a lot of hot summer days wearing jeans”.

These micro-aggressions further alienate people of colour and ignore the racism and oppression that surrounds body hair. The desire to avoid harmful stereotyping or to escape racism is often over-looked or even criticised by ‘white feminism’, despite the fact that shaving or removing hair is a completely valid and justifiable choice for people of all ethnicities.

This privileged view of body hair affects transgender and non-binary people as well. Alyson, a trans girl, stated that, “shaving can provoke dysphoria. I have zero time for a feminism that is going to put the things trans people do to preserve their lives or mental health on the same scale as the things people do to police or enforce patriarchal beauty standards”.

The gender expectations that are problematically aligned with body hair surpass simple feminist discussions about choice, and rather present much more difficult challenges for non-cis people: “I don’t just risk being judged but being outed, misgendered, or even hurt. There are people who would take me having a beard as a personal attack on their ideas of gender”, Alyson told me.

Similarly, Elise said, “as a person who identifies as non-binary (with woman as part of that identity), body hair has always been a strange locus for me.” At school, they felt “shaving meant I was performing womanhood, and not shaving meant I was more manly—that’s how I saw it, though I knew deep down those were just gender roles”. The choice to shave or not to shave is more than an act of defiance against the patriarchy—for some people, it is an unavoidable act of defiance against the social construction of gender itself, and that can carry greater repercussions.

It’s also worth considering that sometimes people have little or no autonomy when it comes to the management of their body hair. Alice told me how she stopped shaving during an exhausting period of being very ill, explaining “it’s because I have issues with functioning rather than a defined aesthetic choice”, while Elise also noted that a struggle with self-harm meant that owning razors was not a safe option.

Similarly, one woman explained that “these kinds of social pressures and insecurities can really perpetuate aspects of eating disorders, body dysmorphic disorders, and body focused repetitive behaviours—I know that body hair definitely plays a part in my history of dealing with all of these”.

When addressing comparable problems, Alyson highlighted how “dyspraxia makes it difficult for me to shave—lots of reaching and bending which rapidly starts to cause aches and pains”. The ableist concept that “there are no ugly women, only lazy ones” (according to cosmetics entrepreneur, Helena Rubinstein) disregards ways in which common beauty rituals can actually be very inaccessible, exhausting and painful for many disabled people.

However, at the same time, shaving can be medically necessary for others whose conditions cause hirsutism, or excessive hair growth, which can compromise surgical procedures. The point being that a disabled person’s body hair experience—no matter what form it takes—should not be commodified by mainstream feminism (as it often is) to either argue for or against shaving. To do so is to appropriate the struggles of disabled or neuro-divergent people for a discussion that concerns mainly aesthetic considerations; in other words, politicising other people’s bodies in order to claim a social symbolism.

Therefore, to exclusively reserve the choice of shaving for those who already conform to the majority of beauty standards (such as Miley Cyrus, Lola Kirke or Madonna) really illuminates the narrow-mindedness of ‘white feminism’ and the oppression it continues to serve. Strands of false feminism which neglect the issues faced by minorities are not truly feminist. In my interviews, a great many people showed sensitivity to this hypocrisy but among non-liberal and socially aware circles, the problems are pervasive.

Ginger expressed how she “would like for female body hair to be normalised and seen in the mainstream more” but until both the absence and the presence of body hair are equally divorced from social politics, there will always be the risk of accidentally perpetuating the oppression faced by minority groups. This is not to say white, cis-gendered, able women should feel guilty for their decisions regarding body hair, far from it—as long as they do not project or force these opinions upon others, and actively support and celebrate the choices (and acknowledge the possible lack of choice) of minority people.

In the end, whether you do or do not shave is a personal decision—albeit one with a bizarre amount of public interference—and maybe one day people will be able to pick up a razor without wondering if that makes them a bad feminist or not.

The internet rules international relations

At the recent G7 summit, the usual array of national figureheads flooded our television screens, their quarrels, rifts and pledges seem to characterise global politics today. One ignorant megalomaniac too many on the international stage seems to tip the world into despair.

Yet, beneath the surface a revolution is taking place, shifting power from the hands of presidents shuffling around conference tables to glow beneath the fingertips of ordinary citizens. It is a quiet revolution of 1s and 0s, which is slowly but surely shifting the sands of international policy-making. The internet, and how it is used, is revolutionising international society and global power structures.

International relations has historically revolved around nations and their interrelation- ships. Diplomacy has historically been a way to conduct those interactions. Yet the exponential growth of the internet is both multiplying and intensifying the voices that shape strategic international decision-making. The internet has, under the feet of international leaders in glowing fibre-optic cables, been an integral force in driving forward a global civil society; civilian transnational groups that act across international borders and operate independently of what their states tell them.

The ‘Israel loves Iran’ and reciprocal ‘Iran loves Israel’ Facebook page which went viral in 2012 is a brilliant example. Whilst it had little effect on the geopolitics of the region, it markedly affected how millions of ordinary citizens viewed each other. Thousands of meetings were arranged between ordinary Iranians and Israelis, who circulated photos and formed new friendships. They completely undercut the conventional diplomatic process, directly addressing citizens over states, with “not ready to die for your war” as the most famous slogan.

In this way, ordinary voices have, slowly but surely, undercut the state monopoly on the diplomatic process, particularly on relations between citizens. Cyber space is what its users make of it; its content is defined by groups of users circulating what they want others to see in the world. These communities are lateral and dispersed, but able to act collectively through the internet, most notably since 2010 in the Arab Revolutions in which Facebook and Twitter connected disparate communities to unite, in the face of great danger, behind a common cause. Naturally, a global cyberspace community also spreads into the deep and dark web, with the spread of fascist and islamist hate speech in groups online.

But the internet is also hastening the dissemination of information, regardless of whether it is accurate or not, often on events which can have a global impact. International government pandemonium over how to deal with WikiLeaks reflects the emergence of a society far beyond their control. More and more, information is going on to the internet directly to users and even established news outlets are struggling to filter, process and gain the upper hand in the dissemination of information. You only need to ask the Chinese government how difficult it is to retain a state monopoly on information in light of current internet technology.

So how should our national figureheads respond? Is there still a place for intergovernmental organisations? International organisations such as NATO hugely benefit from data-driven technology which allow them to exchange large volumes of information between member states. Yet many of the international organisations founded in the aftermath of World War II lag behind in dealing with the new challenges posed by the internet age. They are losing their ability to govern the vastly expanding but largely unregulated domain technology has generated. Institutions that deal only in sanctions, international summits and confers information by press conferences are already an anachronism.

In the way that the development of ships for ocean voyages in the 16th century enabled the European expansion at the expense of Arab empires and radio and telegrams transformed 20th century international relations, so the expansion of the internet creates new opportunities for 21st century foreign policy. However, the rate of change brought about by the internet is unprecedented, and the change is more radical than ever before. The internet will not continue to expand unregulated at its present rate; the next decade will see governments and organisations begin to adapt to the Wild West of cyber space. Global society in 10 years’ time will likely be unrecognisable, for better or for worse, directly because of continued technological innovation.

Controlling your emotions

‘Emotional Intelligence’ or EQ, is the ability to process emotional information in relation to the ‘perception, expression, regulation and management of emotion’. It involves a set of mental abilities which allow individuals to process attitudes to feelings and discrimination between feelings, as well as apply mood regulating strategies. Psychologists have argued that an individual’s ability to integrate emotion into thought has an impact on how much we procrastinate, while studies have found a negative relationship between procrastination (or the inability to self-regulate performance) and emotional intelligence.

There are, of course a number of factors which may determine how much we procrastinate. Boredom, anxiety, and perfectionism have all been identified as component factors. One may procrastinate more if they have attention deficits—a tendency to boredom, low self esteem, a fear of failure etc. EQ however, is less obvious and therefore a more interesting factor to consider. Mayer and Salovey’s model of EQ consists of four main components, the ability to perceive emotions (in oneself and others), to use emotions to facilitate thinking, to understand emotions and to manage emotions to attain specific goals. Emotional regulation—namely one’s ability to cope with stress—could be influential in determining how much one procrastinates. Many studies link the aforementioned factors with EQ. One 2014 study concluded that it was EQ’s relation to self-efficacy which then influenced procrastination. Individuals with a high EQ were more likely to believe in their ability to achieve a goal, and were therefore less likely to procrastinate. Using emotional knowledge to assess thought is an important part of EQ. Therefore, it is a reasonable assumption that a lack of EQ leads to emotions like anxiety or boredom overriding responsibility, and in turn prohibits personal growth.

Dr Travis Bradbury, co-author of Emotional Intelligence 2.0 lists nine characteristics of individuals with high EQ’s. They remain optimistic through hardships, and are able to identify their own emotions. They are assertive, curious about others, and won’t let anyone limit their joy. They know what makes them happy, aren’t easily offended, and give little power to negative self-talk.

Procrastination decreases both the quality and the quantity of learning, if you procrastinate and feel it may be due to lacking EQ, but there are ways to develop your emotional intelligence. Dr Susan David’s four stage RUUM model states that applying a system whereby one recognises, uses, understands and manages their emotions can aid the development of an improved EQ. To use this model, check in with yourself occasionally, and ask yourself how you are feeling. Once you have recognised your emotions, try to identify how these feelings are affecting your thinking—acknowledge that emotions can actually help you make better decisions, Try to understand these emotions and identify the factors contributing to how you to feel.

Finally, try to manage these emotions. You can do this through meditation, exercise, music, social support and basically whatever clears your mind and makes you happy. If you are checking in during bouts of procrastination, recognise how you feel. Anxious? Bored? See if this negative thinking is causing you to procrastinate. Ask yourself what caused you to feel this way, and finally try to clear your mind and combat your negative self-talk so that you can return to work with a clear and able mind.

“Unapologetically Blink-182”

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I have a confession to make before we start: the only reason I got into blink-182 was my all-consuming love affair with My Chemical Romance.

Throughout my obsession with the inspirational piece that is The Black Parade, I trawled YouTube for any video which even contained a curl of Ray Toro’s incredibly voluminous hair. Knee deep in a series of interviews discussing the band’s personal hygiene, I came across a seminal work: Gerard Way’s hyper-aggressive cover of blink-182’s ‘First Date’. When Mark Hoppus paid him some kind of compliment for his slightly angstier version of their song, I knew we were bonded for life over a shared appreciation of Gerard.

With this in mind, I sat down to listen to the deluxe edition of blink-182’s latest album, California. Before I’d even pressed play, I realised this was the kind of album which served well for the revision period. Tunes, such as ‘Misery’ and ‘Bored to Death’, are great for setting the mood when you sit down in the library at 8am, for your fifteenth past paper. ‘Hey I’m Sorry’ works well as a secondary attachment to any email which you send your tutor, while ‘Don’t Mean Anything’ is a tune which I’ve really been enjoying in the run up to my grammar coursework paper.

But despite the fact that the titles make fitting accompaniments to any revision montage, the songs themselves aren’t dire, painful or emotionally trying, as revision is. Instead, they’re incredibly successful: because they are unapologetically blink-182. In particular, ‘Parking Lot’, which has already been released as a single, and ‘Good Old Days’ are brilliant, and fit comfortably with the band’s previous albums.

Yet, this isn’t an album which is afraid to try something new and exploratory. It’s worth mentioning the striking acoustic cover of ‘Bored to Death’, a punk rock anthem which has been transformed into something pretty emotional, even cracking out the crowd chant, reminiscent of Panic! At The Disco’s ‘Pretty Odd’ or anything by Dog is Dead. Meanwhile, ‘Don’t Mean Anything’ is the stand out track on the album and its bridge is something I enjoyed far more than any night out in Oxford’s own club.

For those with an exercise playlist, I would also highlight ‘Bottom of the Ocean’. The powerful, high paced rhythm is something that makes me want to work out, or, failing that, walk really fast to lectures. So what’s the overall review? I’d have to give it five stars. blink-182’s deluxe edition of California is a great album, full of catchy, brilliant tunes that have brightened up the revision period and reacquainted me with my MCR days.

Traditional folk music at its experimental best

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The double bass isn’t usually the first instrument one thinks of when one thinks of folk music—but the Miranda Sykes’ latest album, borrowed places, seems to stand out in many different ways. You can tell from the first track that it is a beautiful, lovingly crafted collection of carefully chosen songs.

Traditional music, sometimes prey to simplistic repetition of lyric and melody, has sometimes been given a bad press. This album is a clear sign that the form can be the complete opposite—expressive, heartfelt and, most importantly, hugely listenable. Sykes is a veteran of the folk music scene—after playing for over 20 years with such big name groups as Show Of Hands. This solo album displays her verve and skill, with each tune telling a story and holding a personal connection to Sykes.

Coming mainly from her native Lancashire, the stories, in her words, seek to “take the audience on a journey that resonates with us all”: whether it be the exploration of a family story and a mysterious brooch handed down the generations or an interpretation of a local folk tale, each track introduces the listener to a different scene. By the end of the album, it ing near non-existent, she manages to carry feels like we’ve almost been inside a conversation.

A personal favourite is ‘Panchpuran’, telling the story of a a family emigration from India to England and the traditional cooking methods linked to their ancestral home— a testament to the diverse, almost eclectic collection of themes and threads this album contains.

It is Sykes’ distinctive voice, however, that really brings this music alive—even when the accompaniment is sparse to the extent of being non-existent, she manages to carry the tune and bring the lyrics alive.

And when the double bass and guitar do feature prominently, such as on the final track ‘Sea Glass’, its deep echoing resonance seems to give the music a new depth.

Borrowed Places really is a beautifully expressed piece of traditional musics, engaging and haunting— and I think we can all agree that traditional music just needs more double bass. Or at least, more double bass as good as this.

Choose wisely, it’s in your hands

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The leading couple get married. The villain dies. The protagonist dies. Everyone dies. A happily ever after. How to end a story? A bad ending to a book, play, film, can almost feel like a betrayal: a betrayal of either fiction’s conventions, or of what we see as reality.

Ernest Hemingway wrote 47 different finales to his 1929 masterpiece A Farewell to Arms in an attempt to feel “satisfied”, to find that elusive perfect finish, to “get the words right”. Yet five years ago, Scribner published all these endings in one volume, each possibility offering a fresh perspective on the story. ‘The Nada Ending’ and its tone of apathetic resignation—“That is all there is to the story. Catherine will die and you will die and I will die and that is all I can promise you”—gives a quite different impression to this rather more spiritual option—“The thing is that there is nothing you can do about it. It is all right if you believe in God and love God.”

But as fascinating as these options are, Hemingway did ultimately choose just one—so why publish all the others? Multiple endings allow a consumer to decide for themselves what happened, taking power away from the creator in doing so, although of course all endings only exist because of the creator. They allow a sense of freedom within restriction, something which has been exploited to its fullest by the videogame industry. There are only a certain number of endings available—but there are enough options to pique one’s interest over and over again to try to get a different ending. You can see it both as a weird kind of reincarnation, and, more cynically, as a marketing ploy, a way of ensuring constant audience engagement.

The internet-fuelled success of Clue, the 1985 film of the board game Cluedo, proves this—released with three different endings, it was not successful commercially or critically at the time, but has since become a cult-classic. Netflix is looking at creating its own interactive, branchnarrative show in the near future. The streaming service has been at the forefront of television innovation for a while now, and at first glance this interactivity feels a very modern phenomenon. It combines video games with internet fanfiction and discussion boards to create a heady cocktail of consumer power, all whilst ultimate power still remains with the creator. But this technology has been around in book-form for decades. Remember Goosebumps: You Choose the Scare? Stemming from publisher RA Montgomery’s bestselling Choose Your Own Adventure series, these so-called ‘game-books’ address the reader in the second-person, confronting them with a constant series of choices, each of which leads them to a different page with a different and conflicting fate lying in store.

Despite a period of huge popularity, the videogame industry all but wiped out these books: Montgomery’s series ended finally in 1998. What they showed, nonetheless, was the importance of engagement, something companies are obsessed with today. They demonstrated the importance of keeping your audience on their toes. They also, and perhaps most importantly, worked against the idea, so important in children’s literature, of a moral ending. Readers were not rewarded for ‘being good’. The quantity of endings, the fact that one could end up with a ‘bad’ ending despite making moral choices and vice versa, is both true to reality, and false to fiction.

In a way, then, multiple endings are subversive, preventing didacticism through sheer quantity. This quality is transferred to theatre in Alan Ayckbourn’s Intimate Exchanges. Despite having only two actors, the play has ten characters and sixteen possible endings. Depending on whether or not the character of Celia Teasdale decides to have a cigarette in the first five seconds of the play, several people might get divorced, married, start affairs, have children, or die. Playing to the unique liveness of theatre, the four different two-way decisions continually re-emphasise the element of chance in both theatre, and in life, like the Gwyneth Paltrow film, Sliding Doors.

But multiple endings don’t simply add to the sense of reality. They also emphasise the importance of decision-making. In 1934-6, Ayn Rand’s play Night of January 16th positioned real people as jury, (a bit like Channel 4’s recent documentary The Trial: A Murder in the Family), leaving the final judgement, and so the ending of the play, entirely down to them. The fate of characters depends entirely on real people. The decision made cannot be changed—you cannot rewind theatre. This technique was put to even more dramatic effect in one of Derren Brown’s Experiments. Looking at the impact of crowd mentality, a studio audience were led to believe they could control what happened to a real person—with tragic consequences. The director of Late Shift, Weber, remarked: “The format is about decisions and consequences, so we wanted to show that in real life, you cannot shoot people”.

Unlike in videogames, there are no multiple lives. Multiple endings give consumers a degree of responsibility. This, ironically, can simultaneously make one feel even less in control. Your actions are restricted. Whatever you do, your path is mapped out for you. Multiple endings, as well as being a kind of gimmick, equally force a consumer to consider the bigger questions of life in general. Do you like choice? Do you like knowing all the endings are mapped out? To have just one ending, take road A. Or to choose your own adventure.

SnapShot: Techno where you’d least expect it

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It’s 2am, but it feels like the music has been playing for hours. This must be the best set I’ve ever heard—the pounding bass is met with some more ambient interludes, with acid licks tying it all together. And yet the music is almost secondary to my current experience. I feel almost out of control of my upper body, which sways, twists and shakes to the bass line. My head can’t focus on the music, with the events of the preceding hours proving too much. My hands are still shaking somewhat from the substances I’ve taken, my fingers moving uncontrollably and irregularly. I know that I have been in this state far too often recently, but my lifestyle isn’t going to change any time soon.

The music starts to take over, and I lose all focus. Looking around, I realise that I can’t see anyone I know around me. I start to panic. Moving around, I see nothing but empty spaces, until I see out of the corner of my eye my friend, Jack. He too is in quite a state, juddering turbulently to whatever it is he is hearing. Catching his glazed-over eyes, I put two fingers to my mouth and gesture. I don’t smoke, but I need to get out of this place and take in some fresh air.

We head down the stairs, almost tripping such is the darkness, and head outside. “How are you doing?” I ask, trying to detract from my own situation. “This isn’t going well,” he replies. “This set is outrageous, but my head space isn’t right. We need to get out of here before I get any more trapped.”

Our conversation continues as we stand outside in the cold air. I start to shiver, and realise that my jacket is still inside. “Let’s just go back in briefly and get everything,” I tell Jack. He nods, puts out his cigarette, and follows me back.

I swipe my Bod card and go back upstairs. Hitting save on this bitch of an essay, I pick up my laptop and notes, and carry them with my headphones back to my room. Another caffeine-fuelled, unproductive night in the College library has ended in disappointment, and as the SoundCloud mix I listened to dies down in my head, I make my way to bed.

Meet the ‘Oardinary Boys’ set to take on the Atlantic

Three thousand miles. Forty-foot waves. Fifty days, and then some.

These are the statistics facing Oxford’s “Oardinary Boys” as they prepare to take on the Talisker Whiskey Atlantic Challenge.

Oliver Glanville, a postgraduate reading for an MSc in Nature Society and Environmental Governance at Keble College, and George Randell, English alumnus of Trinity College, will be the first male Oxford pair to row from the Canary Islands to Antigua this December.

Childhood friends from the age of ten, they are looking to translate beer-boat expertise into an astounding ocean voyage. Glanville jokes that conditions promise to be “quite different from what I’ve experienced on the Isis”, whilst Randell describes the journey as “an elaborate way to get a six-pack”.

It is apparent, however, that their undertaking is no laughing matter.

They will row in a 24-hour cycle: one will sleep whilst the other sweats, in two-hour stints. Ten boats compete in the challenge, with one support boat that will be three days away from the pair at any given time.

Contrary to my expectations, Glanville tells me that the fastest route isn’t straight—sea yarns dictate that they “head south until the butter melts”, following historic trading currents as they pull an estimated one million oar strokes across the Atlantic.

“For the first week, you don’t sleep”, Glanville admits, describing how past competitors have battled seasickness and pervasive blistering over the opening days.

“But after that, once you get into the rhythms, you can appreciate the beauty of it”.

I ask how safe the expedition really is—Randell comments that “one of my greatest fears would be, if something goes wrong, that you’d have to be put on a container ship and go wherever it’s heading. You could end up in Shanghai, four weeks later with some burly Russian sailors”.

Container ships themselves will be a big hazard, though the most emphatic stories involve what lurks beneath the water. Glanville tells me that one team has had their hull pierced by the sword of a marlin, whilst Randell speaks of great white teeth found in the hull of another boat. Both wrinkle their noses at the story of an unfortunate pair who emptied their refuse bucket into the wind.

The Oxonians seem unphased by these sea tales, however, focusing instead on preparation over the coming months. They can expect to lose up to 20 per cent of their bodyweight during the event. As a result, their primary focus is to gain mass. They will have to take all provisions with them, relying on dehydrated food and a water-making machine for sustenance.

As I wonder at the sheer isolation of their voyage, Glanville tells me that more people have gone to space than have rowed the Atlantic. At points in the event, I don’t doubt that they will feel a million miles away: mental preparation is as key as physical training.

As for their motivation? Helping others. They are undertaking the event to raise funds for Alzheimer’s research and the Against Malaria foundation. Glanville tells me that Alzheimer’s has affected his family and many friends, whilst Randell stresses the importance of giving to transparent charities such as the Against Malaria foundation.

A big part of the challenge, however, is getting to the start line. They will have to fundraise both to get there, and also for their charities. The pair is seeking corporate sponsorship, holding raffles, dinners and the like in a bid to reach their sixty-thousand pound target. They will also conduct twelve-hour rows in London and Oxford city centres, hoping to garner support from the wider public.

Organised by Atlantic Campaigns, and broadcasted in a documentary by Sky TV, the event will have media exposure in the hundreds of millions.

Whilst individual donors, a number of breweries and kit sponsors Vineyard Vines will help the Oardinary Boys on their journey, there is no doubt that more fundraising needs to be done.

Flash kit may indeed prove useless to the pair: most people row the Atlantic naked to avoid chaffing.

It is worth reflecting on whether more Oxonians might be inspired to take on a challenge of this magnitude in the future. Whilst there is a societal expectation that graduates will quickly start their careers and enter the world of work, the competitors believe that this sort of adventure is a more worthwhile undertaking.

The message seems to be to use this position to take any opportunity you can, even if it’s as mad as rowing across the Atlantic.

Though they call themselves the Oardinary Boys, their endeavour is nothing short of extraordinary.

Oliver Glanville and George Randell’s journey can be followed at www.theoardinaryboys.com 

WATCH: Hugh Grant drinks from a shoe in New College bar

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New College alumnus and Love Actually actor Hugh Grant visited New College last Wednesday, and was seen attending formal before going to the College bar and drinking with students.

During his visit to his alma mater, Grant spoke about press ethics at a drinks reception before going to formal. Grant later was seen in the College bar with many students after formal, where he joined the New College Rugby Club for drinks.

Videos of Grant have emerged on various social media, where he can be seen taking part in Oxford drinking traditions including drinking from a shoe while wearing his NCRFC tie.

The New College JCR president placed an embargo on students speaking to the press about the visit, however Cherwell has spoken to a number of those present.

One student, Dom Hopkins-Powell, changed his Facebook profile picture to a video posted a video him racing Hugh Grant to finish a VK.

Another New College student, who was in the bar at the time, told Cherwell: “It was pretty fucking incredible.

“I found myself doing everything I resent in that kind of drinking culture: downing pints, being rowdy and watching Hugh Grant spill ale from his £200 loafers down his neck whilst doing a shoe.”

He added: “He was actually a pretty decent bloke—very well eloquent, very well mannered and witty, and looked people in the eye when he spoke with them, actually engaging with them.

“He bought everyone a pint in the bar—which obviously went down well.”

He also revealed what the actor thought of him: “He told me I looked like a ‘Piers Gav man’, which I can’t work out if he means I look like a seshlord or a drag queen.”

As can be seen in a Twitter video, Grant drank from a shoe while students chanted “I’ve never seen Hugh Grant do a shoe”.

More than a quarter of Oxford students don’t go clubbing

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More than quarter of students do not go out clubbing in Oxford, a C+ investigation has found.

Of the 655 students surveyed, 26 per cent reported that they did not go out each week, and across the University the average number of nights out per week was less than two.

When asked whether or not Oxford has a problematic drinking culture, only 21.1 per cent of respondents agreed.

The college which averaged the most nights out was Exeter, at 1.7 nights out per week. Keble and Brasenose took joint second place with 1.5 nights out, while the rest of the colleges responding were below this figure.

An Exeter Entz rep told Cherwell: “We’re just a bunch of loose blokes who put them away on a night out”.

The College recently made headlines, after students commenting on public Facebook groups alleged to take ketamine.

In addition, 24.5 per cent of Exeter students responding to the survey reported having taken drugs in a club in Oxford.

Merton, despite its reputation of being ‘where fun goes to die’, did not claim the bottom spot for average number of nights out per week. Instead, Merton students’ nightlife seems more in line with that of St Hugh’s, St Hilda’s, Balliol, and Corpus Christi. These colleges all averaged between 1.1 and 1.2 nights out per week.

The college with the least prolific clubbing culture was Mansfield, which averaged less than one night out per week.

JCR President Joe Inwood said he didn’t “recognise” the figures, adding: “I can only presume we were all too busy clubbing to answer the survey.”

When comparing these results to each college’s placement on the Norrington Table, there is a slight positive correlation between number of nights out per week and a higher Norrington Table ranking. This would suggest that, on average, going out more frequently can only be good for students’ results.