Text And The City
Good intentions have sort of gone out the window this week. Unable to bear staying away from the PT for four weeks I cracked and went last night. Despite the lies I was telling myself about having one drink, leaving at 1 am and so on, I was suckered in.
Columns: Mendelsohn's Misanthropy
I hate OUSU. The organisation is the most laughably unrepresentative and frankly spurious student body that exists in Oxford. So ridiculous is it that I have more respect even for the tweeds 'n' genocide set who marinate themselves in expensive port and drunkenly curse male pattern baldness. At least that lot actually provide us with entertainment or a purpose once in a while, and sometimes even by design....
Columns: A Hair-Raising Issue
As Tom Ford leaves his posts as creative director of Gucci and YSL this summer, fashion editors are left to ponder what his greatest legacy will be. Will it be the glamorous rich-bitch-on-the-threshold-of-anorexia look that dominated his decade at the helm of what is now one of the most influential fashion brands? ...
Columns: Minions On A Mission
In the words of Shaggy, "In the Summertime, when the weather is fine" all Oxford students head punting. We minions, as average student types (although I have my doubts about Minion Two) could do no different. Thus, on a lazy Monday, off we tootled to Magdalen Bridge for our first experience of the punt.
On
Columns: Sexcellent
The mechanics of dating were so much easier before mobile phones. "Drink?" Love to. "Friday?" See you then. Now it's all "will I look keen if I return her missed call?" We just can't allow it to be easy. When it really was difficult to meet people - singleton sisters waiting months for the deserted country house to be bought by rich gentlemen prospecting for brides - you took your chance when it came. With instant communication, we have to create a bit of hardship artificially. Every girl knows she's got to be "really busy this week (but coffee sometime would be cool)", which in turn encourages a generation of irrationally hopeful men. Noticing that most girls do this to start with, they are convinced none of them ever actually mean it and all will eventually realise they want nothing better than to acquiesce to a hot frothy something....
