There is no place in Oxford that my muscle memory takes me to more reliably than the Alternative Tuck Shop. This happens regardless of my state – still half-asleep, perhaps slightly hungover, or already late for class.
This winter, social media encourages us to embark on the journey of the "winter arc": a self-optimisation quest which leaves little room for hibernation.
Not all icks are created equal, and of course, they shouldn't be treated as such. Either way, they undeniably speak volumes about the person you're with.
I always knew I was a bit of a peculiar child. But I was deeply surprised when a friend seeking a diagnosis herself suggested that I might be autistic.
We all know the type, or at least the meme. The tote-bag sporting, wired-headphone wearing, matcha latte drinking, so-called ‘performative’ men flooding our social...
In delaying and avoiding writing this piece, I am succumbing to exactly what many university students are guilty of: procrastination. Though not among the...
It’s 5pm and I’m standing on a packed, unmoving train, somewhere between Swindon and Bristol Parkway, dodging questionable armpits and trying my best to...