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Editor: Imogen Carter living@ epigram.org.uk

@e2Living

Deputy: Josephine Franks jfranks@ epigram.org.uk

Deputy: Mona Tabbara mtabbara@ epigram.org.uk

Living

NO WEST COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN

New Year’s Resolutions Eliot Brammer, Music Editor: “Play on ma fone less” Jasper Jolly, Film & TV Editor: “Be true to myself :-)” Nahema Marchal, Features Editor: “Under no circumstances listen to Chris Brown” Alicia Queiro, Travel Editor: “I will open my window one night a week for a year so when the apocalypse comes and all houses are burnt to the ground I am more prepared for the chill of the night”

Travel

Style

Tom Brada, Online Arts: “Keep my beard at a reasonable level of trim at all times” Ant Adeane, e2 Editor: “Eat my greens”

This is it. Moving in day. The day that has plagued you with both excitement and mortal terror for that last 4 months since leaving school. You’ve heard the stories, you’ve stalked the Facebooks, and now your expectations of the next 3 years at uni have spiralled rather frantically to epic proportions. The way you see it, your life as an intrepid pagan of the south-west is but a key fob away. With this in mind, you casually beep yourself into your new halls as though inside you aren’t hysterically whimpering and petrified, stroll up to the third floor and open up your new lashtastic unay sex KINGDOM. With a throwaway ‘so yeah like you can just leave my bags I’ve got it from here’ to your Mum who’s on the verge of a full body and mind meltdown and your Dad who’s already on his way back to the car, stepping inside, you realise it’s actually a glorified prison cell covered in suspicious stains, smelling like something between B.O. and a cold Macdonalds and it doesn’t stop there. Expecting to find the Kevin to your Perry, the Ron to your Harry, the Black to your Board in the room next to you, the summer has lead to you dreaming up a whole repertoire of all the abso mental antics you and your newfound chum are going to get up to. Like hiding all someone’s forks n’ shit. But, as you march next door to

Mona Tabbara, Deputy Living I: “Get into jacket potatoes” Imogen Carter, Living Editor: “Focus more on moi”

triumphantly reveal yourself to your long lost soul mate, trying to find a face which balances ‘OMFG LET’S BE BEZZIES, I THINK I LOVE YOU’ with ‘yeah I mean like whatever I guess it’s quite average to meet you but

Sculpting your festive flab into a taut, ‘beach bod’ may have seemed like the easiest thing in the world when you were sitting on the sofa watching Royle Family reruns and gorging on Quality Street over Christmas. But now that January is in full swing, donning your shorts and going for a run in the Bristol chill doesn’t seem quite so appealing. With New Year’s Resolutions already a distant memory and deadlines looming large on the horizon, now seems like a better time than ever to contemplate the gap between our idealistic expectations for the year ahead and the bleak and shameful truth.

hey’, your hopes might be a little deflated - unless your idea of the perfect BFF was Gollum in a Blink 182 T-shirt. The proceedings continue only to reveal yet more bitter disappointment and self-loathing as you realise your unay-self is actually your normal home-self, just a bit less hygienic and tired all the time. Freshers’ didn’t unleash your inner sex god, you don’t look like Ryan Reynolds or Megan Fox when you cut up a BOSH T-shirt and the closest you got to any action was vomiting in your own lap and someone having to sponge you down. Further to this come the cruel realisations about the things you thought would never let you down. The idol, the aspiration of all students, the creator of all things unay: The uniLAD. The single most annoying concept in the history of the world. A term used by those desperately groping for the slightest confirmation of their funniness, in complete denial of their actual social retardation. Any use of the word lad – ever – serves only to highlight you (and the supposed ‘lad’ in question) as a complete and utter knobhead. Furthermore, you learn that banter does not exist. Neither does flanter. Ironically, shanter is in fact its only existent form. Anything labelled banter - usually followed by a chorus of huhuhuhuh - is automatically not funny. Ever. EVER.

“Your unay-self is actuallly your normal home-self, just a bit less hygienic and tired all the time” And so another year of disappointed Freshers goes by, as three months in you can’t stand your flatmates, 40% isn’t actually as much of a doss as it sounded and you realise how much you yearn for home, vitamins and a carpet you can walk on barefoot without fearing for your future health. More disappointed than when Pippa Middleton turned round, you come to terms with the fact that sex, drugs and rock‘n’roll turned into vomiting away your dignity, taking a Nurofen before a night out and dancing to music which sounds exactly the same as the last 12 songs you didn’t know either. #Uuuunnnaaaaayyyyyyy.

Isobel Allen

e2 is brought to you by Living : Imogen Carter, Josephine Franks and Mona Tabbara will meet at 1.15 in the White Bear on Tuesday 29th of January Style : Lizi Woolgar and Alice Johnston will meet at 1.15 in the White Bear on Wednesday 23rd ofJanuary Travel : Alicia Queiro and Alex Bradbrook will meet at 1.15 in the Refectory on Friday 25th of January with e2 editor : Ant Adeane Illustrators: Josh Gabbatiss Charlie Aldington

e2 online editor: Nicola Reid www.e2blog.tumblr.com

21.01.13

NEW YEAR, NEW YOU: REALLY? After weeks of over-indulgence in every way, the New Year arrives and the guilt sets in. We drank, ate and spent too much and now is the time to repent for our sins. Lists are made and diets are planned, we clear out, de-clutter and organise our lives. ‘New Year, New Me’ is possibly one of the most annoying phrases to enter the national consciousness, not only because it’s most often proclaimed by smug people on irritating adverts but also because, despite the good intentions, four weeks of abstinence rarely result in the body, mind and soul overhaul we’d been planning. Come the end of the month the expensive new gym gear will be in the back of the wardrobe, the eating habits back to normal and the new hobbies abandoned So why does this pattern never fail to repeat itself, year upon year? The issue seems to be the radical nature of the overhaul we attempt at New Year. We vow to be more organised, exercise more, eat more healthily, read more, keep on top of work, stop smoking, drink less, save more money... it’s often unrealistic and always unsustainable. The whole concept is set up to leave us demoralised - whose bright idea was it to save up all the issues we’ve identified throughout the year and have a go at solving them in January, the grimmest of all months? The weather is positively awful, bank accounts are drained from Christmas and exams and essay deadlines are lurking just around the corner. It’s no wonder we fail at our New Year’s resolutions when on top of all of this we have to make ourselves put a pair of shorts on, show the world our painfully pale legs and go for a horrible jog in the cold drizzle only to return to a Ryvita cracker and an essay plan to write up.

And of course the adverts are there at every turn to remind you that those radical life changes won’t make themselves. No more do images of M&S’s rich, delicious puddings grace our TV screens - instead we’re bombarded with irritating, inescapable slogans such as ‘count on us’ and ‘be good to yourself’. They try to convince us that consuming live bacteria masquerading as yogurt will cleanse our insides and leave us looking and feeling a million dollars, or that swapping to Quorn mince will revolutionise our lives and mean we can eat whatever we want and never gain a pound. So is the New Year bring ambitious all too quickly motivation and a well-worn ways? than an excuse sell us yet

want nor n e e d ? saturated w i t h indulgence luxury at are they marketing the the problems

destined to always changes followed by the loss of return to our old, Is it nothing more for companies to more stuff we neither

Having our senses excess, a n d Christmas, now just solutions to t h e y

created? Having only just hit mid-January, are we already this cynical about the tradition of the New Year’s resolution? Not quite yet. While there is a lot to be said for advertisers leeching off the insecurities the New Year inevitable brings, selling quick-fix solutions to unrealistic goals, I am not ready to completely dismiss the value of this tradition altogether.

“Going on horrible jogs only to return to Ryvita crackers and an essay plan” Yes, the gap between what we aim for and what we achieve is often very wide but there are commendable aspects of the New Year’s resolution to be praised yet. A resolution does not have to mean buying a gym pass, employing a personal trainer or dedicating every second of our spare time to the digestion of Oxford World Classics. It can mean simply taking a step back, taking the chance to re-evaluate things. Cruel though it can seem, the reality shock of the New Year helps lift the thick, gift-wrapped, cranberry flavoured, brandy soaked fog of Christmas indulgence which enshrouds us all throughout December. It can help us all see a little clearer and if it can make us simplify our lives a little, give a little more to charity, live slightly healthier or use the car slightly less then it is helping to combat some of the vices of our society, and is therefore a tradition we can’t afford to write off just yet.

Sophie Padgett

What I learnt in the library café The walk between most of the cafeterias around campus isn’t far, but the difference between the groups seen within said cafés is striking. Looking around the ASS café, for example, the gap between the sofas is slight, but the people sitting on them belong to very different social circles. At first you feel as if you’ve walked into a rather modern waiting room that’s been invaded by visiting adolescents for the day, people sitting on tables, notes left on the sofas, belongings slung over chairs.

completely solo, gazing around with a pensive expression perhaps even tutting at the noise of the canteen, or theatrically running their hands through their hair as if to remind others of the fact they are in a library. Not as confident as to work alone in such a social environment, others choose to have an over excitable phone conversation replaying every hour of their weekend with their mate that was also there as if to receive confirmation of how good it actually was.

On first impressions it seems utterly un-library like, with its lively and haphazard atmosphere. Look more closely, however, and it starts to appear like some sort of chat show, each sofa having its own life experience with people bunched up or grouped round animatedly talking to one another, some more loudly than others. The computers are also used as an area to congregate and even eat lunch, whilst the individual chairs are sometimes used as tactical napping booths. On the table tops can be seen an array of MacBooks in all shapes and sizes, making it hard to believe that the University doesn’t provide one to every student. To accompany these, most phones visible are iPhones or the increasingly obsolete Blackberry.

“At the end of the day, we all come back to the same ASS”

Some sit very confidently at a table with their laptop,

The real, hard-core Regulars that visit the ASS most days

The most distinctive features between different social groups is usually determined by where they sit and in what manner they eat their lunch. It is this way that you can distinguish between the Regulars and Part-Timers and even then there subdivisions in how one identifies what kind of ‘regular’ a person is.

every week usually dine alone in the café, often they’ll have their laptop on their lap as if to shelter them from the contact of other human beings that they are unused to on such solitary library occasions. The other type of Regular is the more social kind, always appearing to be working hard as they are often seen by fellow students and yet they spend more time on the ground floor than any other. Often this student will come with a group and regularly meet for wellearned breaks and snacks on the sofas, mastering the look of cosmopolitan west country sophistication, modelling the coffee to go and the one strap rucksack look. The PartTimers too, can easily be confused with the social Regulars as they flit in and out of the eating area, but instead of arming themselves with performance aids they usually perch on the computers, eating a homemade sandwich, ready to fly off at any moment. Of course in terms of fashion-types it’s clear to see the place swarms with so called ‘hipsters’ clad in variations of the classic high-tops-and-hobo-hat combo, along with high class hippies armed with a ring on every finger and of course your average Mr or Mrs Joe Bloggs happy in a favourite pair of well-worn shoes. Despite the social gaps apparent in our beloved little concrete libe, at the end of the day it is as with underwear: whether you are a Y-fronts, G-string or boxers kind of lady/ fella, at the end of the day we all come back to the same ASS.

Clara Murray

Editor: Imogen Carter living@ epigram.org.uk

Deputy: Josephine Franks jfranks@ epigram.org.uk

Deputy: Mona Tabbara mtabbara@ epigram.org.uk

Travel

Style

Living

ARE YOU HAVING A QUARTER LIFE CRISIS? You have got your very own kettle, your fancy dress kit and your berocca. Weeks of anticipation are heading to a climax as university begins and your childhood gets waved away. Your opportunity to prove yourself as a self-sufficient adult has finally arrived. Or so you think. Fairly quickly you realise the glamour of being grown up does not quite correlate with the reality of your first year experience. You find yourself sleeping with no bed linen as keeping up with laundry finds itself low on your list of priorities, you feel tired all the time and you may even find yourself getting an ickle bit homesick. And just as you start to get the hang of things, three years have flown by in what feels like three months and the real world starts to beckon. You don’t feel quite as wise as you had anticipated you would feel at this point. What you do feel is the weight of debt, fear and nostalgia. ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ becomes ‘what are you going to be?’ Your freedom seems to melt away. Your time has run out. The Quarter Life crisis has begun. Everyone seems to be settling down with cushty £40,000 a year jobs in ‘the city’ or are commencing a life of intellectual superiority with the pursuit of a Masters. Do we have to leave the student bubble already? Can I really no longer get my student discount? The symptoms of a Quarter Life crisis are numerous. Some find their inner Kerouac and decide a life on the road is the way to be. They opt for travel over job applications, and believe a mud hut in Uganda will hold the answer to their problems. It is common for these gypsy types to latch onto a cause,

maybe tree related or the grievances of a remote Indonesian tribe, to establish a greater purpose in life and replenish their souls after three years of hedonistic debauchery. There are the sufferers of PUD – Post -University Depression. PUD sufferers return home to the comforts of Ma and Pa and proceed to wallow in the pain of their lost youth. Jeremy Kyle and Loose Women become your best friends as your indecision concerning what to do next stops you from doing anything, at all. Your mum’s gentle probing ‘Sent in any job applications recently?’ is met with barks of ‘I’m in a transitional phrase, leave me alone’ or ‘there aren’t any jobs, blame the recession’. Some fellows refuse to get off the ‘lash train’. Tinged with the tragic, these ‘pardi animals’ rave into their thirties and are held back only by the onslaught of back pain and beer bellies. Your heart never really left student clubland and your ring tone is still Cascada’s ‘Every time We Touch’. Usually found cruising around town blaring out some ‘massive tunes’ or mud wrestling at all the summer’s festivals. The ‘schemers’ already have a job by the end of first year, for fear of missing the boat. They have a crystal clear career plan (CEO by 30) and nothing is going to stand in their way. While some students wasted their holidays working in bars or exploring the world, the ‘schemers’ spent their time completing internships and filling out applications to every graduate scheme going. The ‘Eternal Students’ decide keep their heads buried in their books. The warm womb of a library is more appealing than the brutalities of the jobs market. They complete degree after degree till their name is followed by every letter of the alphabet. If your Unilever application was just rejected, remember it could be worse: her boyfriend just killed her hamster

Mona Tabbara

Maybe it’s because I’m a Bristol-er It’s that awful time of year, when you’ve got exams and winter is dragging on. To top it all off, I have committed myself to two weeks of seclusion in London, 118 miles away from Bristol. I’m definitely not normally one to get nostalgic, but commuting by bus and tube to work-experience every morning makes me miss my short totter to lectures. Life is just that bit harder when you have to factor in at least an hour to get anywhere. It’s definitely not acceptable to dress like a student anymore either, as even though there isn’t a strict dress code at the agency, high tops and leggings would not pass muster on Fleet Street. Ridiculously tall men in pinstripes is more the vibe, with energetic, backpack-wearing women darting about in the morning. Although the ambiance in the office, of sitting and staring at an iMac with a mug of tea that is frequently replenished by co-workers is undeniably pleasant, FOMO for Bristol is setting in. There’s definitely an age gap that brings my conceptions of ‘old age’ to shame. It turns out all those who’ve graduated aren’t that decrepit in the real world, and I’m in the minority for not having a wedding on the cards. Office chat revolves around ‘who put glasses in the sink the wrong way up’ and excitement over the cat-café due to open in East London soon (Lady Dinah’s Cat Emporium). While this natter is amusing, it’s very different from the gossip and philosophical chats normally overheard in the library. On that note, it would be comforting to be wished “Good morning my loverly!” once again. For there is definitely something to living in a smaller student city. The thrill of London is also its downfall, as you become dwarfed in the metropolis and aren’t guaranteed to bump into friends at every corner. More people than you’ve ever seen before, maybe, but your course friends - unlikely, unless you’ve arranged it. The danger of London as well is the shops and the prices. How I wish to be back on Park Street rather than passing a TopShop at every corner. Money literally vanishes into the void here and every wine glass under £7 is a bargain. At least everything looks Instagram worthy, yet it doesn’t

seem quite so acceptable to goofily snap away in public as everyone seems in a rush to do something important. The views do definitely beat that of the building site outside the ASS though. Without as much student contact as in Bristol, fear is beginning to set in about the likelihood of morphing into Miranda - complete with a set of homemade ‘vegtepals’. So although work experience in London feels pretty grownup, the tourists are tiresome and the transport ridiculously taxing. Since swapping my student card for an Oyster, the sound of drunken shrieks for screeching sirens, and a casual smoke for perpetual smog, the FOMO for Bristol has never been so great.

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Lara Kottsieper

21.01.13

You go Uruguay and I’ll go mine It’s New Year. I’m in Uruguay. Having spent the past week in a secluded Uruguayan fishing-village-come-surferand-Brazilian-holiday-maker’s-paradise, sunbathing and gracing bonfire beach parties, my expectations are high. Unlike the typical slightly anti-climactic New Years spent in the UK, going to parties or club nights which purely because they are on December 31st are supposed to be a league above the usual, the setting is perfect. The evening has been somewhat surreal already, our fellow hostel dwellers are an eccentric bunch; I have just been encircled by a travelling Uruguayan band and serenaded with a halting version of John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ (the result of a language barrier and my name being ‘Imogen’). Having paid a large Argentinian man our dues for his promise of unlimited empanadas and alcohol to be enjoyed on the hostel roof terrace and looking forward to a night in the newly erected wooden structure in the forest which is to serve as a massive outdoor club, it’s safe to say I’m pretty excited. It’s half ten and we head to the roof terrace. Unlike our new friends and dorm-mates we have decided not to drink until then. This is not the night to ‘peak too early’, always a danger with unlimited booze. With maturity and worldliness under our belt we were going to welcome in the New Year in tipsy merriment. We arrive and join the promising party with fireworks going off in the background and different nationalities periodically shouting New Year tidings as the clock strikes midnight in their respective home countries.

It’s eleven. Maturity and worldliness have fled. I’m in the dorm carefully placing a friend, who failed to make the climb to her top bunk, into my bed and a bin next that. It’s safe to say it happened. She ‘peaked too early’. The rest of the evening was memorable, watching dogs run around with lit fireworks in their mouths, wheelbarrow racing down a dirt road, and discovering that pyrotechnics are illegal in most of Australia whilst watching some unsuspecting Aussies attempt to set them off upside down, definitely isn’t something I’m going to see on another New Year’s Eve anytime soon. But this definitely wasn’t the night I had envisaged. Instead, I welcomed in the New Year with a ‘new best friend’ I’d met an hour earlier and amidst confusion about what time it actually was. That’s the thing about New Year’s Eve; it always starts off so well. But often the expectation and anticipation of a great night makes disappointment all the more likely. Living in Edinburgh I’m lucky enough to have a ready made night each year, the street party, to celebrate New Year but too often have plans been rained-off or cancelled. House parties, ticketed events and dinners have happened over the past few years in an attempt to ‘make a night’ of New Year but

as it approaches midnight, every year without fail we end up in the same small, smelly Mexican club. Why? Because everyone you know and want to share the welcoming of a New Year with is there, it’s cheap, there is no need to buy a ticket in advance and the unpretentious, slightly bizarre décor makes no pretense at being a great night out. But dancing on the packed dance floor, (trying desperately to avoid the pole-dancing pole whose presence no one can really explain given that the club is a humble Mexican restaurant by day). surrounded by friends, is just great fun. Garibaldi’s I salute you. New Year is a time when most people are waiting for somebody else to have a party. New Year is also the night that you can guarantee not to go as expected. There is always a disparity between the expectations of New Year’s Eve and the reality of the night but avoiding disappointment at New Year surely boils down to one thing. Being with great friends no matter the context and being prepared for the unexpected.

Imogen Grant

Charlie Aldington

@e2Living

Travel

Style

Living

BETWEEN THE YEARS 23rd April 2010 – Year 13 This is it, I’m moving away from the strangulations of my small town. No longer can I survive alongside my parents and their infuriating ways: the nagging, the tidy house, the pocket money, Songs of Praise on the TV EVERY BLOODY SUNDAY. The central heating always up too high – the polar bears are dying, you guys – and guess what, Mum? I don’t even like brown bread! When I get to uni I will eat white bread every, single, day. In fact, ‘when I get to uni’ has become my mantra. My days at uni will be the best I have ever lived. I can envisage it now – me, studying de Tocqueville, Rousseau and Sartre out on the open lawns of my halls, my essay smugly nestled in the dropbox three whole days before the hand-in date. Of course it will be of first-class standard - in fact my professor (who I will be great friends with and with whom I will spend much time, sipping brandy whilst we discuss his latest paper in his office hour) will practically beg me to publish my last essay in the leading journal: ‘Benedict!’ I will protest, ‘I just don’t have the time, you know I have twelve society AGMs to attend this week and I think I’ve got a real shot at President of the Transcendental Meditation Society!’ I won’t have the heart to tell him that I do, however, have time to go out on average six times a week – although George and I will still be in a relationship of course. He may be going to the University of Stirling but we’ve been going out since Year 10! Our love knows no bounds. 23rd April 2011 – First Year Can barely write. Definitely still drunk. Have a lecture at 11, but that’s just too early to get up and I’m pretty sure the slides will be on Blackboard. Just texted Becky to work out what happened last night and apparently I fell down the stairs at Lounge (twice), pushed a girl in crutches to the ground in the toilet queue because I needed to throw up, and then proceeded to buy five pitchers of green shit. The funny part about that last bit is that I have no cash; I’m sure I was down to the last £10 of my overdraft. Oh God, can’t bring myself to ring my parents to ask for money. Might lie and say I got mugged by an angry Bristol Rovers supporter a couple of weeks ago...or I suppose I could sell my surplus Hollister wardrobe on eBay. God knows I only wear vintage nowadays. Is it Wednesday today? That means I’ve got around 36 hours to research and write this essay, minus food and coffee breaks, and minus Facebook breaks. If I don’t sleep I think I should be able to get a 2:2. Oh wait, no, it’s Sophie’s birthday tonight. I’m just going to have to say I can’t go out. Or I could go out and not drink? Or I could drink a little bit and make sure I’m back by midnight to finish the essay then? ... I’ll just cut out the food and coffee breaks. I only need 40% anyway. 23rd April 2012– Second Year Can’t believe I saw George and his new girlfriend out at Motion last night. I bet they were just there because they’ve heard it’s cool and secretly hated it, whereas me and I friends go for the sick music (I wish they’d turn it up louder). In any case she’s not even that pretty, and she was wearing heels out! Like anyone goes out in heels anymore. Got back to my house in the early hours of the morning, it was a freezing walk home so I put the heating on for a little bit. Next thing I know it’s midday and Cathy’s banging on my door, having a go at me for warming the house up a bit - like it’s going to increase our bills by that much. Ever since I took that hour-long shower she’s had a vendetta against me. Went to go get some lunch but we didn’t have any clean plates, so had to eat out of a saucepan. I’m sure someone will wash it all up tomorrow. Tried to get a book out of the library for the first time today too, but couldn’t work out where it was. Why don’t they just put it all in alphabetical order? Anyway, ended up drinking coffee in ASS all day and doing no work. I suppose I could have just gone home to do that, but my cappuccino machine broke the other day and I can’t have coffee without chocolate sprinkles. Besides, no one can see that I’ve got a MacBook if I work at home.

BORDERLINE NEWS

IMOGEN PALMER

STAND OUT FROM THE CROWD In a Sherlockian display of astute observation (also known as spending too much time on the internet), I have figured out the BBC website’s go-to article when they are short on news. Pray, behold the following headlines (all true): - Stand up at office to lose weight, says exercise scientist, 9 January 2013 - Too much sitting ‘bad for health’, 15 October2012 - Inactivity ‘as deadly as smoking’, 18 July 2012 - A sitting person’s guide to standing up, 10 July 2012 These articles are not comforting amidst the hour of essay deadlines and revision, I dare you to be the first dick-head to stand up whilst doing work in the library.

IN OTHER NEWS... Cat caught smuggling phone into Brazilian prison. ‘It’s tough to find out who’s responsible for the action as the cat doesn’t speak,’ a prison official said. Microsoft Silicon Valley offices were broken into in California and only Apple iPads were stolen. ‘It’s tough to find out who’s responsible without the ‘Trace Criminals’ application on my iPad,’ a Microsoft employee said. Women now allowed to speak at Bristol Christian Union events. ‘It was the only way we could get them to shut up’, a CU member said.

23rd April 2013 – Third Year I haven’t left the house in four days. That’s a lie - I popped to the garage to buy Chocolate Hobnobs and Lucozade. When I close my eyes, all I can see is Microsoft Word. I sleep until 1pm and go to bed at 4am, for some reason it makes me feel like I’m doing more work that way. My library fine is nearing £40. Two weeks left until my dissertation is due in and still 8,000 words to go. How did I let this happen?! I went to the library in the summer holidays! I read a book at a time when I didn’t need to! Now, it all seems a waste. I should have been interning at Auntie Angie’s PR Company over summer. I should have started applying for graduate jobs in October. I should have worked harder last year. The prospect of heading back home after graduation is both sickening and wonderful. Going back means I am a statistic; one of thousands of graduates who finishes uni to merely sink back into the abyss of small town unemployment. But I am craving food containing nutrients and a house that is warmer inside than outside. I’m looking forward to never doing an academic presentation again, and forgetting the Harvard Referencing System, and going to bed at 10pm. I’m looking forward to having a mattress that isn’t mouldy on the bottom. I’m looking forward to bed. I just want to sleep.

Words: Katie Deighton Illustration: Camilla Barden

rs and Exclusive offe n you e h w s t n u o c dis chandise r e m r u o y y u b online!

T-shirts Hoodies Jackets and gilets Sweatpants Stationery Gifts

www.ubushop.co.uk

UBU NEWS

Issue 6 21.01.2013

ubu.org.uk

Your motions Your meeting Your Make change happen at the Annual Members’ Meeting elections

This term sees two of the Students’ Union’s most important democratic events beginning with the Annual Members’ Meeting (AMM)* on 7 February. The day of the AMM also heralds the opening of the nomination period for the UBU 2013 Student Elections.

The Annual Members’ Meeting will be held from 2-5pm in the Great Hall of the Wills Memorial Building; all students have the afternoon free to attend. The AMM provides the opportunity for students to have their say about the Students’ Union and is a chance to change

or add to UBU policy and inform WKH ZRUN RI WKH HOHFWHG RIĂ€FHU team. Any student can submit a motion that will then be debated and voted on.

Students looking for more information before submitting a motion can FKDW WR DQ\ RI WKH HOHFWHG RIÀFHUV or a UBU staff member by email or drop into the Just Ask Centre on the 4th Floor of the Students’ Union. On Wednesday 23 and Friday 25 January between 1-2pm DQ RIÀFHU DQG VWDII PHPEHU ZLOO EH at the UBU Info Point on Tyndall Avenue to answer any queries.

The deadline for motion submission will be 28 January and a priority ballot for submitted motions will open once the agenda is published. More details about the AMM and submitting a motion can be found at ubu.org.uk/amm. AMM Key Dates: • 23 Jan: Info Point drop in session

• 25 Jan: Info Point drop in session • 28 Jan: Motion submission deadline • 29 Jan: Agenda published • 4 Feb: Close of priority ballot • 7 Feb: Annual Members’ Meeting

Over 400 students attended the 2012 Annual General Meeting held in the Anson Rooms.

Think about standing for a position in the UBU elections The process for electing ofÀFHUV DQG UHSUHVHQWDWLYHV IRU WKH 2013/14 academic year begins when nominations open on 7 February at the Annual Members’ 0HHWLQJ 7KH HOHFWHG RIÀFHUV ZRUN day in, day out to help all students create a world class student life at the University of Bristol. The positions up for election LQFOXGH WKH IXOO WLPH RIÀFHUV VHH S SDUW WLPH RIÀFHUV LQFOXGing the Chair of Student Council, 5 delegates to the NUS National Conference. Students thinking about standing in the Elections are invited to a Candidate Conference on 12 Feb WR ÀQG DERXW PRUH DERXW WKH UROH or can contact any of the current RIÀFHUV DERXW WKHLU H[SHULHQFH or email ubu-democracy@bristol. ac.uk for more information.

(c) Jamie Corbin

Elections Key Dates: • 7 Feb: Nominations open • 12 Feb: Candidate Conference • 18 Feb: Nominations close • 4-9 Mar: Campaigning Week • 11-15 Mar:Voting Week • 15 Mar: Results Night in Bar 100 This year the name of the annual

*Why is it called the Annual Members’ Meeting? event where student can submit, debate and vote on changes to UBU policy has changed from the Annual General Meeting to the Annual Members’ Meeting 7KH FKDQJH UHVXOWV IURP 6WXGHQWV¡ 8QLRQ JRYHUQLQJ GRFXPHQWV ZKLFK VSHFLĂ€HG WKH UHWLWOLQJ LQ WR FODULI\ WKH GLVWLQFWLRQ EHWZHHQ D company annual meeting and a members (students) annual meeting. Annual Members’ Meeting PRUH DFFXUDWHO\ UHĂ HFWV WKH SXUSRVH DQG DXGLHQFH RI this event. If you have any questions about the name change, please email ubu-democracy@bristol.ac.uk. UBU News | Issue 6 | 21.01.2013

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UBU News | Issue 6 | 21.01.2013

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, ZDV DOVR EXV\ ZLWK 8QLYHUVLW\ FRPPLWWHHV UHODWLQJ WR UHVLGHQFHV DQG KDOO GHYHORSPHQWV ZRUNLQJ ZLWK WKH %ULVWRO +XE RQ DQ HWKLFDO LQYHVWPHQW GHEDWH VSHDNLQJ to Bristol 6th formers at the *UHDW (QYLURQPHQWDO 'HEDWH ZRUNLQJ ZLWK WKH &HQWUH IRU 3XEOLF (QJDJHPHQW RQ LPSOHPHQWLQJ Engaged Learning for VWXGHQWV FRPSOHWLQJ *UHHQ ,PSDFW ORRNLQJ LQWR LQWURGXFLQJ WKH %ULVWRO 3RXQG DW 8%8 DQG ZRUNLQJ ZLWK JURXSV OLNH )RRG &\FOH LQ LPSURYLQJ VWRUDJH IRU ELNH WUDLOHUV /RRNLQJ DKHDG WR KRXVLQJ LVVXHV 9ROXQWHHULQJ :HHN 4XHVWLRQ 7LPH ZLWK 0D\RU *HRUJH )HUJXVRQ F\FOLQJ FDPSDLJQ DQG PRUH *HW LQ WRXFK DW XEX FRPPXQLW\#EULVWRO DF XN RU ÀQG PH RQ 7ZLWWHU #DOLFHMSHFN

Demo on tour DOVR JDWKHUHG D ORW RI VXSSRUW IURP %ULVWRO·V VSRUWV FOXEV ZLWK PDQ\ WHDPV VXSSRUWLQJ WKH VWXGHQWV PDUFKLQJ DW 186 'HPR ZLWK WKHLU RZQ EDQQHUV DW KRPH DQG DZD\ matches. ,W ZDVQ·W DOO FDPSDLJQV DQG 8QLYHUVLW\ PHHWLQJV DV KHUH DW 8%8 ZH ORYH D JRRG QLJKW out. We had two sell-out 6&25(V RYHU WKH ODVW WHUP ZLWK RQH PRUH SODQQHG IRU WKH PLGGOH RI 0DUFK WR FRLQFLGH ZLWK 9DUVLW\ 'D\ %ULQJ RQ 6SULQJ WHUP 7KHUH·V JRLQJ WR EH PRUH 8:( ULYDOU\ WKDQ \RX FDQ VKDNH D VWLFN DW &RQWDFW PH DW XEX VSRUW #EULVWRO DF XN RU #KDQQDKSROODN

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508 students respond to sport survey The Students’ Union’s Sports Survey of December 2012 had a high response rate from the student body with a total of 508 students taking part in the online consultation over a two week period. 87% of respondents were underJUDGXDWHV RI ZKRP ZHUH ÀUVW year students. This is particularly interesting considering that this JURXS RI WKH VWXGHQWV LV WKH ÀUVW to experience the new, two-tiered membership system offered by the University’s Centre for Sport, Exercise and Health (SEH). In spite of the large number of undergraduate respondents, the

survey also managed to capture the opinions of Erasmus, PhD, and part-time students. A notable feature of the responses is the balance between students who are currently part of a University sport team and those who aren’t: 273 UHVSRQGHQWV LGHQWLĂ€HG WKHPVHOYHV as being part of a team whilst 232 said they were not. 7KLV GLVWLQFWLRQ UHĂ HFWV WKH HIIRUWV taken by UBU to circulate the consultation beyond the typical ‘1st team hockey player’ in order to gauge the views of a broader demographic of the student body. Common issues that arose in the

consultation’s written comments included the new membership system, issues related to the swimming pool, the principles that drive SEH and levels of investment. The Students’ Union will fully release the results and recommendations from this consultation shortly. The report will be presented at the relevant University committees and at the next Student Council. If you did not have an opportunity to take part in the survey, or would like to report an additional concern or idea, please contact 6SRUW +HDOWK 2IÀFHU +DQQDK Pollak at ubu-sport@bristol.ac.uk. 7KH 2IÀFHUV WRRN SDUW LQ WKH RAG Dodgeball Tournament getting a highly respectable 3rd place.

Alumni Foundation Grants available Postgraduate students attending conferences to present their work are invited to apply to the Alumni Foundation for special funding. General Grants are also available to clubs and societies to support the extra-curricular activities that make Bristol such an exciting place to be. For more information, visit: bristol.ac.uk/alumni/currentstudents/foundation/. The closing date for applications this term is 1 February 2013. If you would like any more information, please ring 0117 331 8210.

Upcoming campaign: Look After Your Mate From 18 February-1 March, WelIDUH (TXDOLW\ 2IĂ€FHU $OHVVDQGUD Berti will be running the Look After Your Mate campaign, a series of events designed to help students who may be supporting friends with mental health problems.

Getting serious about student democracy.

Will Pope receives a new heart On New Year’s Day 2013 Will Pope, a 2nd year Classical Studies student at the University of Bristol, had his long awaited heart transSODQW LQ +DUHÀHOG +RVSLWDO after falling seriously ill this summer for the second time in three years. The operation came after Will had spent 121 days in hospital. Although it is a great relief to Will, and his family and friends, he has only just begun the journey to recovery. It certainly will not be an easy ride but Will is in the care of a fantastic team of doctors and

nurses and he’s an extremely brave DQG UHVLOLHQW Ă€JKWHU Visit willpope.co.uk for continuing updates on Will’s progress and on the “Will Powerâ€? campaign. A huge debt of gratitude is owed to the donor and their family, they cannot be thanked enough for this gift of utterly inconceivable magnitude. A concert will be held at Clifton +LOO +RXVH :LOO¡V Ă€UVW \HDU KDOO RI residence) on 15 March to continue raising awareness. The Will

Power campaign organisers are looking for performers, organisers and promoters so if you’d like to be involved please get in touch via Facebook or Twitter page (details are available at willpope.co.uk). $FFRUGLQJ WR $FWLYLWLHV 2IĂ€FHU Martha West, “It’s brilliant news to hear that Will’s transplant went well and that he has woken up. The campaign has been such a success and is something that the Union will continue to support.â€? Sign the Organ Donation Register at organdonation.nhs.uk.

7KH HYHQWV LQFOXGLQJ Ă€OP VFUHHQings, workshops, and physical activities, will emphasise conversation and communication, sharing experiences and will help participants become more comfortable talking DERXW VRPHWLPHV GLIĂ€FXOW LVVXHV There will be a pre-launch “day of actionâ€? on 14 February, so look out for volunteers around the University precinct with more information. If you would like to get involved in organising events, or would like to take part in a video sharing your experience, please get in touch with Alessandra at ubu-welfare @bristol.ac.uk. UBU and University support services including one-to-one counselling and support groups are also DYDLODEOH DQ\ WLPH Ă€QG RXW PRUH DW ubu.org.uk/justask.

TOTAL: ÂŁ21,750.00 UBU News | Issue 6 | 21.01.2013

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* weekly event

Your What’s On Guide

*

January -

Monday 21 Exam Period • 21-25 January (ubu.org.uk/revise) Just Ask Revision Roadshow • 21-25 January (ubu.org.uk/revise) Eating Disorders Support Group • 6:30pm, Just Ask Centre, 4th Floor UBU 2-4-1 Iced Tea Cocktails • from 7pm, BAR 100 (Two cocktail teapots for £8)

February

Tuesday 22 CRB Session • 3-5pm, UBU Info Point (details at ubu.org.uk/volunteering)

*

Bristol Drugs Project Info Session • 6-8pm, Just Ask Centre (4th Floor, UBU)

2013

*

RAG Quiz Night • from 8pm, BAR 100 (£1 for a great cause & with great prizes)

*

Jazz Funk Soul: Django’s Jam Session • from 8pm, The Big Chill (facebook.com/JFSbristol)

*

Wednesday 23 Bristol Improv: Night of Noir • 23-25 Jan, Winston Theatre (ubutheatre.com) Dramsoc: The Tempest • 23-26 Jan, Winston Theatre (bristoldramsoc.co.uk) SCS: Depression and how to survive it • 1:45pm (bristol.ac.uk/student-counselling) UBU Active: TRI-Running • 2-3pm, Foyer of Students’ Union (ubu.org.uk/ubuactive) UBU Active: Rounders • 2-4pm, The Downs (ubu.org.uk/ubuactive)

*

BUCS Sport • Coombe Dingle (ubu.org.uk/activities/sports/BUCS)

*

Fever Feeder • from 6pm, BAR 100 (£1.50 for Carlsburg, Gaymers or Vodka mixer) Sports Night • 10pm-3am, Dorma (facebook.com/feverwednesdaysdorma)

*

*

*

Thursday 24 Student Parents Coffee Morning • 9:30-11am, Multifaith Chaplaincy

*

Volunteering Induction • 12:30-2pm (book online at bit.ly/UBUtraining) Live DJ • from 8pm, BAR 100 (+ great drinks deals)

*

Monday 4 National Student Survey Opens ‡ RSHQ WR ÀQDO \HDUV DW WKHVWXGHQWVXUYH\ FRP

Friday 25 CRB Session • 10am-1pm, Do It! Hub, 4th Floor UBU (ubu.org.uk/volunteering) UBU Active: Basketball • 5-6:30pm, SEH (£1, ubu.org.uk/ubuactive)

*

*

Thursday 7 Annual Members’ Meeting (AMM) • 2-5pm, Great Hall, Wills Memorial Building

Saturday 26 UBU Active: Dodgeball • 1-2pm, Cotham School (ubu.org.uk/ubuactive) UBU Active: Touch Rugby • 1-3pm, The Downs (ubu.org.uk/ubuactive)

*

*

Karaoke Night ‡ IURP SP %$5 IUHH GULQN IRU ÀUVW VLQJHU SUL]H IRU EHVW * Sunday 27 UBU Active: Netball • 7:15-8:15pm, SEH (ubu.org.uk/ubuactive) LiveSoc Open Mic Night • from 8pm, BAR 100

Eating Disorders Support Group • 6:30pm, Just Ask Centre, 4th Floor UBU

*

* (every other Sunday)

Monday 28 Stand Up Bristol Comedy Night • 8pm, BAR 100 (free!) Submission Deadline for AMM Motions and Reports • (ubu.org.uk/amm) Tuesday 29 Spring Graduation • 29-31 January (ubushop.co.uk) Annual Members’ Meeting Agenda Published • (ubu.org.uk/amm) Wednesday 30

Election Nominations Open • (ubu.org.uk/elections) DanceSoc: In the Spotlight • 7-9 Feb, Winston Theatre (ubutheatre.com) Friday 8 Volunteering Induction • 2:30-4pm (book online at bit.ly/UBUtraining) Monday 11 Volunteering Week • 11-16 February (details at ubu.org.uk/volunteering) Stand Up Bristol Comedy Night • 8pm, BAR 100 (free!) Tuesday 12 Elections (potential) Candidate Conference • 3-7pm, UBU (ubu.org.uk/elections) Wednesday 13 Ethical Careers Fair • 5-8pm, Social Science Building Friday 15 Volunteering Speed Dating • from 7pm (details coming soon at ubu.org.uk/volunteering) Saturday 16 RAG Week • 15-24 February (email rag-ubu@bristol.ac.uk to get involved) Monday 18

Friday 1 LGBT History Month • 1-28 February Alumni Foundation Grant Deadline • (bristol.ac.uk/alumni/current-students/foundation) Saturday 2 UBU Active: Lacrosse • 12-4pm, Coombe Dingle (ubu.org.uk/ubuactive) UBU Active: Rock Climbing • 3:30-5pm, St Werburgh’s Church (booking required) Sunday 3 Fit and Fabulous Re-launch ‡ SP 6(+ IDFHERRN FRP XREÀWDQGIDEXORXV

UBU News | Issue 6 | 21.01.2013

Look After Your Mate • 18-1 March Election Nominations Close • (ubu.org.uk/elections) Thursday 21 Student Council • 6-8pm. Tyndall Lecture Theatre, Physics Building, Tyndall Ave. Saturday 23 UBU Active: Rock Climbing • 3:30-5pm, St Werburgh’s Church (booking required) Wednesday 27 BOpS: A Midsummer Night’s Dream • 27 Feb-2 Mar, Winston Theatre (bopsoc.tumblr.com)

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Editor: Lizi Woolgar style@ epigram.org.uk

Living Living

@e2Style

s s f e l r e p s x r E u o Y Clothes make a statement about you. It’s common sense. Whether people are actively trying to express themselves through their clothing is irrelevant, because the clothes you wear are going to say something about you even if you don’t put much thought into it. There’s a reason why the Prince song ‘Raspberry Beret’ has such a focus on the subject’s hat: it kind of says everything Prince thinks you need to know about her. What you intend to say with the way you dress doesn’t necessarily have much of a bearing on how it’s received. This is particularly true if your intention, conscious or unconscious, is to communicate some specific aspect of yourself. Your Buzz Rickson MA-1 flight jacket might signify to certain people your membership in the international community of reproduction military and work wear fetishists, but to everyone else you’re just a guy in a bomber jacket. This isn’t necessarily a problem, the general aesthetic message is still conveyed, even if the more nuanced aspects are only communicated to people with the knowledge required to appreciate it. The problems come when, because of unforeseen circumstances, your attempts to reflect something about yourself suddenly take on very different cultural meanings, which is something I’ve experienced recently.

Deputy: Alice Johnston deputystyle@ epigram.org.uk

change. I think that if I looked a bit sharper, I might feel sharper too. I can’t help but think that dressing in a way that reflects elements of traditionally loser-ish pop-culture has had an effect on my actions and self-perception, as well as how other people see me. The issue was when the high street decided to copy the style resolutions I’d made. It feels like there’s been a fairly concerted effort in menswear to reinterpret the classic semi-formal look I’d like to affect, with lots of Thom Browne inspired high-water trousers and oxford shirts buttoned right up. That stuff’s fine, but doesn’t really do it for me. I want the original version, where the rules don’t change much and the same wardrobe can continue to look elegant for years, rather the updated, soon-to-be-dated interpretation. Part of the aesthetic transition I’m in the middle of is about signifying to the world, and more importantly myself, that I’m on an upswing and I’m doing well enough to dress nicely. Unfortunately this obscured by current trends. What I want and what’s in right now have obvious similarities, much of the difference being in terms of quality, cut and the way things are worn. My first major investment into this new phase was a pair of Goodyear welted brown leather brogue boots. I love them, but that sort of thing has become ubiquitous. Or at least it’s off the rack equivalent is.

Style Style

“Clothes make a statement about you”

Lately I’ve been trying to change the way I dress, to look more adult whilst remaining age appropriate - more shirts, fewer band t-shirts. I still like the John Cusack in High Fidelity, Darlene from Roseanne in her Gen-Xer grunge phase, Daria thing I arrived at when I was in my mid-teens but it feels like it’s time for a

I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. My only option is to continue what I’m doing and wait for fashion to move on. I’ll still have my boots long after everyone’s ditched theirs for something else and I’ll still look good in the meantime, even if it’s not immediately obvious that my change in style is representative of something a little more than a wardrobe upgrade. Still, it’s hard not to get wrapped up in the symbolism we attach to clothes but I think the price of sounding a little petty every now and then is one I’m willing to pay. Joseph Finn

Smile Like You Mean It Interesting, isn’t it. In the world of fashion where perfection is so ruthlessly sought out and flaws carelessly kicked to the curb that such a perceived flaw now seems to be a captivating selling point. I am of course talking about gap teeth. Personally, I love them - I’d shove a gap in my teeth any day if I could, but unfortunate genetics on my part have made that pretty impossible.

Sketches: Katy Papineau

Travel

Think Lara Stone, Lindsey Wixon or Georgia-May Jagger. To me their gaps seem to emphasize the symmetry of their faces and make them stunning in a way more unique than most of us could ever achieve. Even Abbey Lee Kershaw, with her bug eyes and spaced-out teeth, seems to manage to resemble some kind of magnificent alien. Of course the aforementioned do coincidentally happen to be among my absolute favourite models, so I reckon I’m a little biased on the matter. Many of my friends have expressed that they would hate to have gappy teeth and can’t fathom my obsession. The issue might simply be my association of it with only models, who have otherwise perfect features. I mean, Madonna’s gap doesn’t make me quite as envious for some strange reason… Either way, whether you love or hate ‘the gap’ – the marmite of fashion, one might say – it’s worth celebrating that fashion is at least deviating from rigid beauty requirements and searching for something a little more quirky. Words: Lizi Woolgar Sketch: Katy Papineau

21.01.13

Stay On Track:Travelling Style s i He H rs

Never has the obligatory annual airplay of Chris Rea’s ‘Driving Home for Christmas’ irked me more than this year before Christmas. Whilst the majority of Bristol’s student population were cramming the entire contents of their bedrooms into their parents 4x4s, I spent the entire week working, eagerly awaiting my journey home.

Looking stylish while travelling is something that the Parisiennes have a natural flair for; with their mantra in mind ‘less is more’. Here are a few frenchie-inspired tips and tricks of the trade, that will ensure you look trendy while travelling.

Now my student budget doesn’t quite stretch to private jets, so my method of transport was restricted to the First Great Western to Great Malvern. Nether the less, I still like to make a good impression, even if the majority of the clientele would be made up of Strongbow-swigging Herefordians returning home for Christmas.

SHOES: Opt for flats when travelling, there’s nothing worse than running in hefty heels to make it on time. However, don’t necessarily resort to ballerinas or boots, go for trainers – NIKE at the moment are showcasing their most affordable line. You can’t go wrong with this comfy stylish pair of Blazers.

A classic bag is a must. This year my loved ones bestowed me with a tan leather holdall from John Rocha. It is timeless and will age beautifully, gaining character with every scuff and crease.

ACCESSORIES: The simplest way to add instant ‘chic’ to your travelling is a scarf. Choose a bright one to add a splash of colour to your outfit like this stunning ASOS print. It’s useful to always have one hand to be used as a cover up in the chilly plane/train – I for one have experienced the icy blast of Great Western trains one too many times.

A ‘grown-up’ waterproof coat is an essential for any man between the ages of 19 and 90. I opted for this doublebreasted mac from Reiss, which looks just as good over jeans and some knitwear as over a navy suit.

JACKET: with the guaranteed comfort of your scarf and sneakers, you can afford to add a little structure and edge with your jacket. Smarten up your travelling outfit whilst nodding to Parisian pared-down chic. A classic blazer or bomber would do nicely, as would a trench. This Topshop jacket is a great compromise between structured and fun.

Cable-knit has become a staple for men this season, oozing refined comfort and heritage. I decided to inject a shot of colour into my look with this burgundy number from River Island, which GQ recently featured on a list of their favourite pieces this autumn. I decided to stick with the heritage theme by introducing one of my favourite trends this season: herringbone wool trousers. This grey pair from ASOS are some of the most comfortable trousers I’ve ever purchased, and look perfect paired with my tan brogues by Barker and some quirky fairisle socks.

Simply add a classic tee and skinny jeans to this look et voila! Your travelling look is complete. Try to take a Mary Poppins-esque slouchy bag that you can effortlessly chuck your necessities into.

There you have it, an understated but timeless look that Marcello Mastroianni and his ‘Jet Set’ contemporaries would be proud of. Until my next article, a happy new year and, more importantly, happy sales-shopping. Nathan Beesley

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One last tip: it’s easy to look drained when travelling so try to focus on your eyes beauty-wise. Add a little more mascara and curl your eyelashes to look that little bit more awake! Cassandra Lazareff

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From L-R

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HIS Brogues: Barker, £170 Jumper: River Island, £30 Trousers: ASOS, £40 Jacket: Reiss, £275 HERS Jacket: Topshop, £48 Scarf: ASOS, £12 Trainers: Office, £70

@e2Style

Living

Pressure for flesh

Style

Deputy: Alice Johnston deputystyle@ epigram.org.uk

Editor: Lizi Woolgar style@ epigram.org.uk

The Triangle in the early hours of the morning is full of people wearing weather inappropriate clothing. Snow, rain and howling gales are no deterrent to the fashion-conscious clubber stumbling onto the pavement after a night on the tiles. I sometimes wonder whether the famed ‘beer jacket’ is actually enough to keep some of these people shielded from pneumonia. I’m fairly sure my conservative approach to dressing up is not shared by many. Although boys are often guilty of the crime of wearing too little – shorts and t-shirt anyone? - it is the girls who often suffer the most. Short skirts, sleeveless dresses and midriff-baring tops are donned despite (what often feels like) arctic conditions. Why is this? Clearly appearing fashionable is a major goal but feeling confident and attracting attention also appear to be important. Walking into American Apparel I was stunned to find a completely sheer dress, with the model wearing absolutely nothing underneath it. Although AA is notorious for its pornographic adverts is it any

wonder women can feel pressured to show their flesh? The ambivalence of shops in properly labelling an item that frankly could be a long shirt, short dress or skirt adds to the consumer confusion. Your fashion is an extension of your personality, so if you feel comfortable wearing this sort of stuff on a night out then why not? Props to you, I say. Some people may feel more confident dressing up in short skirts and dresses – that’s not a crime by anyone’s judgement. You look good, you feel good, as the mantra goes. The issue comes when going out half-naked is purely for attention, specifically from the opposite (or the same) sex. If girls feel pressured to attract boys’ attention with merely their clothes and bodies rather than their dazzling personality they are of course well within their rights, but it does seem a little sad. This is often why women are criticised for their dress. I’m sure we’ve

all heard some pretty derogatory insults flying about – the word ‘slut’ comes to mind here. Maybe we should look more closely into why there is so much anxiety surrounding girls who choose to wear particular clothes. Is society too conservative, believing too much skin is shameful? The traditional rule of ‘boobs or legs – not both’ is still around after all. I think we should break through these misconceptions and try to understand the root cause of why people judge girls who dress in a certain way, evaluating the reasons they are sometimes judged. This would be beneficial in the wider debate about attitudes towards women’s self-image. There are too many people who believe they have authority over what girls should wear. Personal makes clothing choices are up to the y o u feel confident individual. then go right ahead girl – just As good old Cyndi Lauper make sure you enjoy it. tells us, ‘girls just want to have fun’. If dressing up in Pooja Kawa a teeny playsuit or a bralet

Founded in: San Francisco, California Founders: Donald Fisher and Doris F. Fisher Number of locations: 3248 stores worldwide

Travel

Total equity: $2.75 billion operates stores and has around 132,000 employees. GAP is an American clothing retailer that was founded in 1969 as ‘The Gap’ by Donald and Doris Fisher. The aim was to target the younger generation, hence its name which refers to the generation gap of the time. The first shop was opened in San Francisco and its merchandise consisted of just Levi jeans and LPs. Having reached sales of $2 million within the first year, a second store was opened in 1970 and since then GAP Inc. has expanded to become a huge worldwide retailer and now

H a v i n g stated out selling its signature blue jeans, GAP now offers a w h o l e range of clothing and accessories for men, women, children and babies, and has brands such as

3,248

Date Founded: 21st August 1969 Banana Republic, Old Navy, Piperlime and Athleta, which aim to make the store appealing to families and young people by producing fashionable, good value clothing. GAP specializes in producing a wide variety of jeans to accommodate all shapes, sizes and styles,

which include the classic boot cut, skinny leg, straight leg and boyfriend. What’s more, it has kept part of its original simplistic look by always offering plain t-shirts and vest tops in different colours. So it seems that GAP has developed enormously over the past 40 years and now aims to target a much wider circle of people, however the pure essence of GAP and what made it such a success at the beginning, can still be seen in stores today.

Abbie Innes

21.01.13

Torn on the flatform Most fashion trends are not designed for those who drew evolutionary straws as short as my own. I’m so vertically challenged that, at the tender age of four, my mother rushed me to a doctor, convinced I had a condition called Amsterdam Dwarfism, because I was ‘so small and hairy’. I also walk like a duck, which prevents me (alas) from joining the legions of models and mortals whose high heels throw them to the floor on catwalks and pavements alike. It is for this reason that I – like anyone with any sense – favour sensible, well-supported flat shoes, in which my orthopaedic insoles find a warm and welcome home. As

can be pumps, they can be trainers. If you’re feeling really crazy, they can even be sandals. And, people, do you know what this means? They make you tall! But they’re flat! I know, I know. It seems too good to be true. Like with any Good Thing, there’ll be some haters. They’ll cry: it looks like someone vomited the nineties on your feet! It feels like you’re walking in small boats! The difficulties posed by the change in gradient of the pavement become simply absurd! And to those naysayers, I say: no one above the height of 5’1” who can walk properly is qualified to criticise my shoe choice. And to those who remain, I bring out the fashion trump card: Alexa’s wearing them. In style terms, that means you’re all right. Alicia Queiro

much as I love ankle boots and Converse, they get boring. Variety is the spice of life, as they say, and I’m a fun girl. So imagine my delight when flatforms emerged from the previously forbidden fruit of under-ankle style. For all those who (woe betide you) are not versed in stupid fashion jargon, these are flat platforms, increasing the height of short people the world over by helpfully filling the gap between you and ground with rubber, or sometimes wood. All the It-girls have been wearing them so, ergo, they are cool and you should too. The possibilities are endless: they

Cut out and keep!

T-shirt: £20 Necklace: £16.50 Bandeau: £10 Sketch: Sara Daoud

Leggings: £20 Skirt: £34 ALL TOPSHOP

Editor: Alicia Queiro travel@ epigram.org.uk

@e2Travel

Deputy: Alex Bradbrook deputytravel@ epigram.org.uk

The gap year experience is so special that when students come back to the reality of university, it is hardly surprising that they prefer to fashion themselves after the characters they were onceupon-a-time whilst abroad. When I first came to Bristol, I continued to sport my typical South American attire of a simple wifebeater and shaggy ‘gap yah’ trousers – the English weather, on the other hand, was less forgiving, so unfortunately, the breezy beach look had to go.

slashes in the trousers. This new look of trailing a couple feet of yarn behind me arguably gave me a worldly-wise and well-travelled look, the same way wearing a beard might.

I don’t know what exactly it is about leaving the mother country that makes anything woollen, knitted and floppy look cooler than it ever has before. The more it looks like you’ve made it yourself the better, effectively giving you an appearance of an elf that’s come across a pair of Raybans. It seems that if your alpaca-wool-hoodie-with-the-lostdrawstring-pantaloons approach gets you mistaken for a hobo, you’re doing it right.

“This new look of trailing a couple feet of yarn behind me arguably gave me a worldly-wise and well-travelled look, the same way a beard might.”

The gap yah trousers, or otherwise known as ‘fucking idiot pantaloons’ deserve a mention because they may be the world’s most comfy, colourful and effortlessly cool piece of clothing around. Worn in and out of bed, they are perfect for the days when a permanent hangover clouds the brain. Even when they get torn to shreds they look good; in Lima a dog once got hold of my leg, and left me, after a considerable amount of shaking, with only a few scratches but with great

To be honest, the fact that you care less about your appearance whilst travelling makes you look even better. It’s the pieces of clothing that show you’re fighting to stay in control that are less attractive. Practical though they may be, zip-off cargos don’t look good on anyone.

The dress of gap year students can also be seen to be based on who they’re trying to emulate: travellers in Cusco buy an alpaca poncho, tourists in Thailand buy a Thai beer t shirt – ironically though, the post-colonial theme of trying to fit in with the natives probably makes you stand out in the crowd more than any other. Despite our perceived differences,

a fashionable monoculture has sprung up around the world and it seems the best way to fit in anywhere would be the simple jeans and football shirt. One thing that makes gap year fashion unique is that the clothing is dynamic: it has to be ready for wear and tear. This look of constant decay seems to incorporate anything cotton and swishy, but can have the added side effect of making you look like an apocalypse survivor. The downside to this self-destructive style of dress is that, after taking stylishyet-falling-to-bits shabby-chic look to an inevitable extreme, gap year souvenirs are usually in shreds by

the time – or if – they make it home. By the time you walk out of customs back in the UK, you find yourself collaged in bits of gear craftily sourced from obscure charity shops along the way. Ultimately, no one will really care what you wear when backpacking. This has the added advantage that it gives people room to breathe and develop a fashion sense based on what they actually like, rather than what they feel they ought to be seen in. I don’t know what the trend will be when I go travelling again, but I know that I will still definitely be rocking my ripped-up gap yah trousers.

Sol Milne

t x e n ? r u Yo mper ju Blighted and smited: slumming it to Sarajevo Flickr: Elvis Pepin

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Living

What (not) to wear: Travel’s gap year wardrobe

Unfortunately for Andrea Valentino, gap years aren’t all baggy trousers and amusing alpacas...

Travel

While many of us might complain unendingly about the misery of train travel in England, with its endless price-hikes, spare a thought for students at the University of Sarajevo. For while train tickets around Bosnia are no doubt cheaper than those on First Great Western, the very same bleak weather that inflicts delays and cancellations on British students at least ensures that the blight of travellers to Sarajevo – mosquitoes – is decidedly absent here. And by ‘blight’ I think it’s fair to say that for once I’m not resorting to the lazy journalistic practice of using grossly exaggerated language for comic or linguistic effect. At one point during this journey I almost dropped to my knees and started fiddling with my rosaries, so certain was I that Flickr: Nosha the scourge unleashed upon my compartment had been prophesised in some esoteric book of the Bible. Of course, my uncharacteristic religious fervour may have been down less to the apocalyptic proportions of the journey in question and more because I was on the verge of lapsing into a dehydration-induced fit of hallucination. For while I assumed that this overnight journey from Zagreb to Sarajevo would at least have basic amenities (read: drinking water) – being, as it was, a service between two fairly developed European capital cities. I was quickly put paid of this assumption

when I boarded the train and it transpired that the only water of any kind aboard was the slightly grey slime inside the train’s only toilet. Slivovitz – a popular spirit drunk throughout Central Europe and the Balkans – may look a lot like water, as my new friend and impromptu drinking partner, Goran was keen to impress on me. It would, however, be unfair of me to really impart any of the qualities of regular water on the liquid he served me from the bottle he withdrew from his rucksack. We eventually got to the stage where we thought it might be a good idea to try and sleep, as the train slowly rumbled through rural Croatia on its way to the Bosnian border. Slightly problematic was the sweat-inducing midsummer heat. Naturally, Goran and I thought it would be wise to open the window of our compartment. We’d be kept cool and be able to sleep off the slivovitz: what could possibly go wrong? The answer to this unduly rhetorical question was presented to us about an hour later, as we were both awoken by a loud, low buzz, accompanied by various itching and pain all over our arms, legs and faces, coming from, well, everywhere. Startled, we discovered the light of our cabin had been covered – to the extent that there really wasn’t much glow emitted from the bulb anymore – by several hundred mosquitoes, which had clearly flown in through the open window.

The next two hours or so passed as something of a blur, but Goran and I essentially spent it employing our shoes as bludgeons, swatting the unwanted guests into various kinds of pancake – during which we spread much of the blood the mosquitoes had recently stolen from us all over our clothes and hair, as well as over the compartment itself. At one particularly surreal moment, we were momentarily stopped in the killing as we reached the Bosnian border. Goran’s explanation as to quite why we were mid-swing to the bemused customs official – in SerboCroat, naturally – is one that I’ll probably never forget, as much as I might like to.

“At one point I dropped to my knees and started fiddling with my rosaries, so certain was I that the scourge unleashed upon my compartment had been prophesised in some esoteric book of the Bible.” Eventually, we left the twilight zone and entered the pale early morning sun of Sarajevo. Bidding farewell to Goran, I was preparing to look around the austere Communist square outside the railway station for a tram to take me to my hostel. Suddenly, I doubled over and vomited violently next to a newspaper stand. The vendor looked at me in much the same way that I looked at all those hundreds of mosquitoes. Perhaps when my tram arrived, I fleetingly thought, I should just avail myself of that other great delayer of English trains: ‘man on the tracks’.

21.01.12

Flickr: baru-koukoug

If you’re unfortunate enough to only have 24 hours here, you’ll have to get started early! The best time of year to visit is undoubtedly in the summer, when the sun shines and heat blazes down on the north of England – well, occasionally it does. Get started by getting into Blackpool bright and early and take a walk through the newlyregenerated town

centre. Here, you’ll be able to visit not only the abundance of shops selling Blackpool rock, but you’ll also be able to visit the Blackpool Tower, one of the North’s premier attractions. Included in your admission ticket is access to the Tower Ballroom – arguably the most famous of its kind in the country and twice the venue of the Strictly Come Dancing finale – as well as an exhibition on the history of the tower and a small circus. What’s more, on a clear day, you’ll also get a stunning view which stretches from the Lake District in the north, Merseyside in the south and the Isle of Man over the Irish Sea, making the entrance fee more than worth it. Flickr: robonline

Ever since I arrived at university, I’ve become quite a fan of watching people’s reactions when I tell them that I live ‘near Blackpool’. It tends to range from exclamations of surprise of what a fun town it is, to thinly-disguised expressions of pity, along with the odd person who has heard of this mythical place, but isn’t sure where it actually is – well, I suppose that’s to be expected when you come to a university where everyone seems to be from either London or ‘near Guildford’. However, despite its sometimes tarnished reputation, Blackpool, and the Fylde coast in general, is still a fantastic place to visit and certainly deserved its accolade of Britain’s favourite seaside resort.

After getting your feet back onto solid ground, take a stroll along the Promenade. Any respectable seaside resort has a promenade and a pier, but Blackpool is the kind of town which doesn’t do things by halves – it boasts three piers, each full of amusement stalls, fairground rides, casinos and stalls selling candyfloss, popcorn and other delectable delights. Once there, you can relive

your childhood on the rides, or if you want something a bit more sedate, sip a cup of tea and munch on a stick of rock whilst admiring the view of the Fylde coast. In the afternoon you could venture inland to Blackpool Zoo, or catch the legendary tram down to the Pleasure Beach for an afternoon on the rides. However, both of these attractions are surprisingly expensive, so a better, more studentbudgetfriendly option would be to get the bus down the coast to the sleepy town of Lytham St Annes, located approximately 3 miles south of Blackpool’s town centre. The beach at St Annes is a hidden gem: twice as nice and half as busy as Blackpool’s beach in summer, you can spend a pleasant afternoon there relaxing, building sandcastles or grabbing a drink at one of the charming old pubs nearby. Just a hop, skip and a jump away too is Lytham’s town centre, which is the

Flickr: GetHiroshima

A day in ... Blackpool & the Fylde Coast

complete antithesis of Blackpool: whereas Blackpool is brash, loud and in-your-face, Lytham is delightfully calm, relaxed and cultured. Make sure you don’t miss the historic windmill on the Green along the front, and potter around the quaint boutiques, cafes and pubs which line the high street. Whilst you’re in Lytham, have some dinner at one of the many classy but affordable restaurants in the centre, before heading back up the coast to Blackpool to see the resort come alive at night. If you’re here during the Illuminations (late August to October), you’re in for a treat: the Promenade is lit up for miles on end with decorations and it is quite a spectacular scene. Amble up the front to the town centre, where you’ll then be able to see the excellent nightlife that Blackpool offers: dozens of pubs, trendy bars and nightclubs complete what has been described as one of the best nights out in the UK. It may be a tired old cliché, but no matter who you are or where you come from, the Fylde coast has something for everyone to enjoy – from the serene streets of St Annes to the bright lights of Blackpool. Whilst there are those who say that the town has had its heyday, it still remains a buzzing tourist centre, waiting for you to explore.

Alex Bradbrook

Singapore: an air-conditioned utopia?

Sara Charteris-Black reveals the darker side of this squeaky-clean Asian metropolis Landing in Singapore felt a little like arriving in the year 2030. I stepped off the plane into a brightly lit, alarmingly clean – and remarkably efficient – world. In my first few weeks, I rode the MRT – a spacious, faster version of the London Underground – and walked through streets free of gum-stains and crisp packets. Once settled into the University Campus, everything was at my fingertips: just a push of a button or a signposted stoll away. After a while, this futuristic, hassle-free world – complete with an unemployment rate of less than 2% – began to seem wholly Utopian. With casinos raking in more than those in Vegas, I began to realise why the nation had become such a magnet for the wealthy, 50-something year old businessman. However, before long, the artificially-cooled, air-conditioned buildings appeared reminiscent and a good metaphor for a different type of coldness hidden, yet ever-present, in the country.

But was it appropriate to clap to this nation’s so called ‘democracy’? Of course, Singapore is a democracy in the sense that citizens have the ‘freedom’ to vote for whomever they please. How far to agree with such

This considered, was it really appropriate to clap to the nation’s respect for civil liberties? In terms of the freedom to protest, it is actually an offence in Singapore to ‘demonstrate support for, or opposition to, the views or actions of any person, group of persons or any government’. As for the rights of certain minorities, Singapore’s Penal Code continues to criminalise homosexuality – I was astonished to discover that the party who produced quotes as absurd as ‘homosexuality is a genetic identity disorder’, and that there was ‘hope’ for homosexuals to fulfil their ‘heterosexual potential’, was in fact the winning party. Clearly, civil liberties are not championed as forthrightly as economic efficiency here. Singapore’s initial spotlessness soon began to seem sterile, and the efficient, high standard of living now seemed a meagre mask for the country’s soft-

authoritarian rule: indeed, I began to question whether I was living in Utopia or Dystopia. Despite this though, the Singaporeans who clapped Tony Blair in that seminar room were smiling. I still remain in doubt as to whether such smiles were an example of a Marxist ‘false consciousness’ or a genuine satisfaction with their ‘airconditioned life.’

Flickr: Clement Soh

During my first semester I attended a talk given by Tony Blair at the university’s law campus, where the exPrime Minister spoke of Singapore’s rapid progression into a first world country, praising the nation for its democratisation and respect for civil liberties. As his speech drew to a close, applause filled the room and, glancing around, all could be seen were smiling Singaporean faces.

a statement however, depends on one’s conception of ‘freedom’. The fact that the People’s Action Party has been Singapore’s ruling political party for almost half a century now is hardly a surprise considering the regulations surrounding elections. According to the law, opposing parties are given a mere nine days to campaign prior to Election Day, and it is in fact illegal, under s33 of the Films Act, to produce any party political film. Additionally, unlike the UK, Singapore has no defence of qualified privilege, protecting a journalist’s right to scrutinise the government. Considering such restraint of political speech, I cannot help but question a Singaporean’s so-called ‘freedom’ to vote.

@e2Travel

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Teufelsberg, B Cold War era erlin: These listening towers rise som above the surr e 250 feet forest – historiounding perfect vantage cally, the listening to So point for traffic in East viet radio Today, the bu Berlin . towers are vanildings and shells, with evdalised railings removen the safety playground th ed , and a who can find at anyone fence can expla gap in the ore .

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Our man on the ground in Tuscany: Part Three The shopkeeper hands over two bottles of Chianti and asks whether Sebastian and I would like a bag to carry them. ‘Not to worry,’ Sebastian grins as he hands over a crisp fifty Euro note. ‘I have very deep pockets.’ He tucks the wine into his Barbour as we step out into the sunshine. Winding our way through cobbled streets, we eventually find a bench overlooking a large square. Sebastian sits down and produces two bottles of wine, two glasses and an Evelyn Waugh novel. I tell him I am going do a bit of shopping. ‘Jolly good,’ he replies, pouring himself a large glass of wine before settling into his book. I return 45 minutes later with a straw hat, some coffee, and a fake football shirt. Sebastian is reclining on the bench like a Roman emperor and smoking a cigarette. His monogrammed leather bookmark can’t have moved more than a couple of pages on. It’s clear he wants to talk, not read. I decide to indulge him.

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‘That hat has… character,’ he guffaws. ‘The markets around here are a scream. And what an awful shirt. You know what they say: football is a game for gentlemen played by louts. Or something like that.’ Sebastian emphasizes his point by flinging his cigarette at a nearby sparrow and downing his wine. I ask him how his book is going.

It dawns on me that whilst I shopped, Sebastian drank two bottles of wine. I notice a thin sheen of sweat beneath the pinkening skin of his forehead and realise he’s been sitting in the sun. ‘This wine really moves along. It’s rather quick.’ he repeats, slurring slightly, as a family of American tourists sits down on the bench next to us. After a few minutes and to my horror, I see a look of recognition in his eyes and he slowly climbs to his feet. ‘Bloody yanks,’ he mumbles. ‘There’s no such thing as a good American wine. Stick to Pepsi-Cola and orange juice,’ he heckles a 14 year old girl in front of her terrified mother. I decide that it would be safest for us to head back and drag Sebastian away from the Americans. By the time we get on bus home, Sebastian is both incoherent and unable to stand. Two children approach us asking for loose change. Sebastian, flinching, tells them to go away, but they don’t move. Suddenly seeming terrified, he reaches into his pocket and flings coins at them, before twisting out of my grip, grabbing my shopping bag and stumbling off the bus. I follow him off to find him throwing up into my new hat.

‘Is that the Queen?’ one child interjected as, much to their incredulity, I showed my primary school class some pictures of my family celebrating Christmas. For the children of the Hautes-Alpes, the Queen popping round for a quick glass of wine on Christmas Day doesn’t seem to be a ludicrous suggestion. Although they may be our neighbours, the rural French town of Gap can feel a long way from home. There are times when the various disparities can be attributed to a purely rural/urban divide that as a Londoner-turned-Bristolian make little sense to me. Supermarket shopping in the countryside, for example, cannot be undertaken whilst wearing headphones. This has been one of my more recent errors and I suffered a grand inquisition upon leaving the shop as if I were the Dick Turpin of the grocery world. Yet the reality of Anglo-French interactions is that we treat one another like siblings – we have many nuanced similarities, and we love each other – but would be humiliated were anyone to find out. Most importantly, however, we do our utmost to rile one another at every possible juncture and like every self-respecting sibling, the French know the easiest way to infuriate ‘les Rosbifs’: the famed shrug. ‘The shrug’ in Gap is not a purely physical entity; it exists on a metaphorical level too. On my first day at work, my boss sauntered in 45 minutes late using the meaningless but assertive excuse of ‘there was nothing I could do’. These six words equate to little more than a gentle raise of the shoulders and a deep exhale of breath. Similarly, where we Brits have a penchant for order and queuing, our Gallic friends have established an insatiable appetite for sprawling bureaucracy. Only in France would a copy of your landlord’s gas bill be a fundamental obstacle between you and access to the Internet. Such inane requirements are as easily comprehensible to the English as the apparent norm of public urination that exists here. In spite of this, and although they may be loath to admit it, the French love us. Hearing an Englishman speaking French is an apparent delight and I find myself inundated with people challenging me to ‘say something in English’. Surprisingly, when presented with a choice of the entire English language it becomes incredibly hard to find something to say. The same problem often occurs when fumbling for French words. One supermarket worker went as far as to ask, ‘Do you speak French?’ as I struggled to enquire as to whether they sold speakers. Perhaps there lies a further facet of all siblings – character building. The French language may be a challenge, the bureaucracy a veritable nightmare and the population of Gap may think I am related to the Queen and Tony Blair (apparently more recent heads of government remain unknown). But like any good family member I am their Brit and with that, the Alps feel very much like home. Alex Longley Foreign Correspondent in France

I ask him why drank so much. He looks up long enough to smile weakly. ‘I don’t really know. When in Rome?’ Anonymous

Flickr: féileacán

‘Oh, this? It doesn’t really move along.’ Sebastian mutters. ‘Unlike this wine.’ He gives me an ostentatious wink.

Sebastian hands me what little is left of the first bottle and a glass. I pour it out, pass him the empty bottle and ask if he could pass me the second. Sebastian makes an elaborately theatrical circular gesture and hands the empty bottle back to me. I ask for the full bottle again and Sebastian repeats the gesture, laughing like a child repeating a joke.

Mind the Gap: falling in love with France

The LGBT+ Support Group is a safe space run by students for students to chat through questions or worries about sexual orientation or gender identity.

Every other Thursday from 17 January 7KH -XVW $VN 2IĂ€FH 8%8 5LFKPRQG %XLOGLQJ For more information go to ubu.org.uk/lgbt

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