Quench Magazine, Issue 199 - May 2024

My family, to be blunt, are crazy. They’re unpredictable, act on spontaneity and will never take no for an answer. They’re the first people to start asking odd ‘what you rather’ questions, see no conversation topic off limits and when not working 24/7 can most likely be found in either the pub or at a festival screaming their lungs to Rick Astley records. It may not be the same as what your family dynamic looks like, but the four of us have a laugh most days and I wouldn’t change them for the world.

That’s part of the beauty of Issue 199, discussing the theme of FAMILY. It’s near impossible for everyone to have their family be the same; we all look different, act different and think differently from each other, which is part of the fun and stress of families. Every contributor and member of staff has

Whilst at university, having your family at what feels like a lifetime distance away can seem insufferably isolating and world-destroying. That is, until you form a close-knit group of friends who firmly root themselves as another family you’re surrounded by, and for better or worse can’t really shake away. This is probably why for this family issue, I’d love to share a personal story about my own family of friends at university. During my second year, after another slightly odd themed party I forced everyone to participate in (note: although hosting a wedding-themed social can be

Meet The Editors Alanya

a fun way to get everyone to dress up and deliver speeches, assigning wedding party roles can get pretty violent and there will be a hostile race for the bouquet), me and my mates were feeling sorry for ourselves and battling intensive hangovers gained by sampling drinks from Cardiff’s finest bars and clubs. To recover, we spent the afternoon watching About Time, whilst people read and finished jigsaw puzzles on the floor, sustained by greasy leftovers and herbal tea. That was one of the first times I properly looked around at my friends and considered that I’d gained a new type of family.

It’s incredible that in life, a group of people who I may have just walked past in a corridor are now some of the people who I talk about a shared future with, the very same people who I met drinking warm Budweiser in freshers’ week are now those I’m coordinating graduation outfits with.

We are a group of strangers who have become a family

Families change. They shrink and grow, standing by you on your best and worst days. And although they can sometimes be the people who drive us to our edge, they are our’s alone, and there is nothing more personal and important we can have in life. Have a flick through this issue, think about your own families and send them a text; see this theme as the perfect excuse to plan your next family gathering to add to your own scrapbook <3

It’s been very special to reconnect with my family at Easter before the last gruelling push towards the last exams of the year. The concept of family is often unusual, as one of those things you readily accept whenever it’s there, but when distant from family as often you are as a student, you realise it’s tantamount importance. I am glad reading this month’s excellent edition of Quench and discover I am not the only one pining for them, as expertly conveyed by Maddie Balcombe’s excellent piece. Her realisation of how much her family means to her makes for considerably emotional reading.

Of course, perhaps we have all made supplementary families to carry us through university. I hugely admired Freya John’s courage in building a community at university that cherished them as a non-binary person. I can only

Billy Lucia

Family is all around us, so what better way to celebrate it than make it the theme of this issue?

Hi Quench readers, and welcome back to this new amazing issue! We’ve come a long way and are now at our second to last issue – #199 – of the year (crazy right?!).

The uni year is almost over, and we’re starting to approach deadline season once again. It’s a tough time for everyone as assignments are due, revision is underway and exams are looming (sorry for the reminder). Which is why, now more than ever, it really is a paramount time to be reminded of the importance of ‘family’.

Family is a fluid concept that extends beyond traditional definitions, encompassing a wide range of relationships based on love, care, and mutual support. Typically a group of people related by blood, family can truly extend to

begin to imagine how isolating it would be to live without this. It will be oft repeated in this issue that families come in all sorts of varieties because it is absolutely true. I was particularly struck by Natalia Murcia Cencerrado’s warm description of how her family can be found all over the world - despite the fact thousands of miles that separate them, there is a remarkable love and affinity felt.

I’m not quite ready to say goodbye to my English Literature lectures yet, and Quench’s excellent Literature section has certified this. A fabulously written article on Dark Academia makes me wish that had been one of my modules. Furthermore, Amelia Wollacott’s excellent analysis of the literary orphan is highly thought-provoking. A character detached from their own kind and not quite belonging anywhere, you will be finding this character archetype in all sorts of media - especially my beloved Doctor Who, back this month! - once you’ve read this great piece.

friends, partners, colleagues, and so any more groups and individuals. Family is the cornerstone of our lives, shaping our identity, influencing our values and creating systems of support throughout life’s highs and lows.

While I have my related family, who of course I love very much and am so thankful for their undying support that has definitely carried me through my degrees, my family unquestionably extends to my friends, my boyfriend, my boyfriend’s family and (needless to say) my pets. They all mean so much to me and have definitely made me the person I am today.

I think we can all agree that this is a very noteworthy edition of Quench. The term family is incredibly multifaceted, and this edition has definitely captured that – it is clear that our contributors have poured their hearts and souls into crafting pieces that exemplify what family means to them.

From our Quench family to yours, we really hope you enjoy reading this special penultimate issue of the academic year!

Meet The Team Family Issue 199

Alanya Smith

Editor-In-Chief

Lucia Cubb

Deputy Editor

Billy Edwards

Deputy Editor

Mable Head of Social Media

Mia

Wilson Head of Design

Angelina

Meet The Team 5

Ella Collis

Features

Izzy Walsh Features

Polly Brewster Music

Katie Storrie Literature

AJ Lumley Music

Laura Schjoett Spotlight

Freya Johns Spotlight

Olivia Griffin Fashion

Bethan Gwynne Fashion

Ashley Thieme Film & TV

Tom Nicholson Film & TV

Meet The Team

Tegan Davies

Niamh Roberts

Julia Bottoms

Nicole Saroglou

Jasmine Dodd

Maddie Balcombe Column

Beca Dalis Williams Clebar

Beth Rocke Clebar

Meet The Team

Emily Williams Instagram Manager

Eleanor Kay Twitter Manager

Imogen Edmonds Instagram Manager

Isla McCormack Deputy Head of Design

Laura Nunez Photographer

Adam Breen Photographer

Jiacheng Liu Photographer

Mia Coley

Eszter Gurbicz

Pyman

Yap

photography by: Jiacheng Liu front cover & design by: Mia Wilson

Family Takes Many Forms

Friends | Relatives | Neighbours | Flatmates Family takes many forms and changes throguhout our lives. Whilst we talk about family as the leading theme for this issue, we wanted to show you some of the faces behind the Quench Team who make this magazine possible

words by: Angelina Mable design by: Mia Wilson

words by: Wiktoria Jazwinska

Faraway Families

It was in a German airport, with a suitcase big enough to carry half my life, where I waved goodbye to my teary eyed friends to fly across the sea, where a new life awaited me in the UK. Earlier that same revolutionary summer, my parents had already moved back home to Spain from Germany, where we had been living for the past eight years. Refusing to accept the monumental levels of change, I couch surfed my way through all my friends’ homes, enjoying the last slice of my old life before taking a flight straight to Cardiff alone. I had actually only ever been to the UK on one other occasion, but the mixture of nerves and eagerness clouded the fact that I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into.

Because I had already lived through the shock of moving countries at a young age, I thought the second time around would be all smooth sailing. But oh was I wrong. My first two years of university have now blurred together in my mind leaving only remnants of culture shock, flat parties during COVID, and a lot of frustration. For a long time, I struggled to connect with the new life I suddenly found myself in: the people, my degree, the culture. The COVID-19 pandemic did not help my case, and when I needed my family the most, international travelling got suspended. I spent my first Christmas away from my family, my mom’s homemade meal was replaced with my sad attempt at cooking something edible. Presents were badly wrapped and exchanged between international students left behind in student halls. But despite airports being shut for months, in Easter I decided I had had enough. So there I was, in a surreal empty Gatwick airport, with a binder of legal documents deeming me fit to fly home just for a week. It then dawned on me that you truly do not know what you have until you lose it. The first embrace with my mum and dad pulled together all the fragments I had become during the hard lockdown months.

My parents have now moved again, this time to Luxembourg, and they have taken my concept of home there. But if I have learned anything from being away from my family while at university, it’s that home is really not a physical, tangible place with an address. Home is the people you love, the people that make you feel safe and loved. Even in Cardiff, I have always felt an invisible net of support that I could always fall back on. Scattered around the world in Spain, Germany and Luxembourg, home is always just a call or flight away.

Four years down the line, I have slowly but surely made a life for myself in this once foreign place. I have made friends that have now made Cardiff my third home, I have built a routine that feels like me. Most importantly, I have learnt to split myself across many places, to always be at home.

words by: Natalia Murcia Cencerrado

design by: Mia Coley

Realising the importance of family

Family is a funny thing.

When I was growing up, I was surrounded by my family 24/7. My parents taught me everything I know, from the basics of how to ride a bike right through to the more practical advice of how to use a credit card! My sister, aunties, uncles, cousins and grandparents were there for the journey too, and all of them together helped shaped me into the person that I am now.

Then, as I grew older, I began to realise that family is not just your blood. Throughout school, I always slotted into big girl groups. With this army of likeminded women around me, I grew as a person even further. I gained confidence, found a love for fashion and makeup and grew to refine my sense of humour.

I always knew that my blood relatives and chosen family were immensely important to me, but it wasn’t until I moved away for university that I realised the extent of their effect on my life. I remember the day I moved into uni like it was yesterday. Years of excitement and anticipation had materialised on that day. My mum and dad spent hours with me helping me decorate my halls, taking me to do my first food shop, and making sure that I was stepping into adulthood equipped with everything I could ever need. My friends had sent me off with reams of cards and gifts, assuring me that they were never too far away – despite the four hour distance that now physically separated us. I knew leaving my family behind would be hard, but I never knew I’d struggle like I did initially.

When my mum and dad drove off and left me on my own, I experienced a rush of emotions that I’d never felt before. Slightly dramatic maybe, but I cried and cried until I couldn’t cry anymore on that first evening.

The feelings of sadness weren’t helped by the fact that I was the only person who had moved into my halls at that point, and of course I did soon settle. However, my first year at uni was a constant reminder of just how important my family are to me.

Throughout that first year, my mum’s phone must have been hot to the touch. I would call her up at any minor convenience, asking her what setting to wash my clothes on and what temperature I should set the oven to. I also bombarded her with messages about my dayto-day life: “I’m heading to the library now xx”, “Going out for the evening xx”, “Might go to the pub later xx”. She was four hours away, going about her daily life, but for some reason I just felt a compulsive need to let her know exactly what I was up to. This was because moving away from her made me realise that she was my comfort blanket. Without this, I felt slightly lost.

Of course, as the years progressed I found my feet on my own, and my chosen family began to grow. I got so lucky with my friends in first year, and the girls I spent those drunken taly nights with are now more like my sisters. We have lived together for the past four years and created memories to last a lifetime. However, as much as I value this newfound friends, I have often felt like I’m living a double life on my uni journey. There is so much about me that my school friends know that no one else does, and the connection between us runs so deep. In the first year or so of uni, when you are still trying to make a good impression, I found myself deeply missing the normality of my home friends. The silly nights out, the awful dancing, the funny five minutes, and the deep conversation... I realised that I may have taken it all for granted. I would FaceTime my friends a lot in first year, but with a distance separating us and busy schedules sometimes getting in the way, it inevitably wasn’t the same.

I also didn’t anticipate how much I would miss my family when experiencing new milestones at uni. During uni I met my first boyfriend, experienced my first heartbreak, and then met my current boyfriend. My uni friendship group was there with me through it all, but I was longing for home comforts. In these moments, happy and sad, I realised the power of family. When I felt myself

falling in love, all I wanted was an approving nod from my mum. When I knew something wasn’t right in my relationship, the first person I called for advice was my dad. When I was dumped out of the blue, I just wanted to cry to my best friend. The family that has been with you since the start knows you on a level that is hard to comprehend. Without even saying anything, they can judge your moods and instantly know what you might need in any given moment. I missed this comfort.

As hard as these times were, moving away from my family taught me just how important these bonds are. I realised that I had taken a lot of what comes with family for granted, and learnt the importance of maintaining familial relationships. I also learnt that chosen family changes and evolves more than I realised it could –now, four years after I began my time at uni, I have gained many amazing friends for life, and lost some who I thought would be by my side forever. But, through it all, I learn that I will always be able to rely on my family – no matter where I am in the world.

words by: Maddie Balcombe design by: Alanya Smith

photography by: Isla McCormack

Despite its initial airing in the 90s, ER had a reputation of always being ahead of its time. The undeniable blueprint for the now international phenomenon Grey’s Anatomy, ER was ground-breaking when it came to the storylines and characters. Kerry Weaver, the badass, female, leading doctor in ER, was no stranger to hardship. Suffering with congenital hip dysplasia that causes her to require a crutch to ease the pressure of her limp, her experiences in adoption agencies as a child, and suggestion of a difficult divorce from an unnamed ex-husband, Weaver undoubtedly suffered turmoil as she battled her personal life while running the ER.

In season seven of the show, Weaver began to grapple with her sexuality. Falling in love with a psychiatrist at

The Modern family

the hospital but refusing to admit it, she allowed her to be discriminated against when feigned allegations of assault due to her openly lesbian lifestyle surfaced and did not stand up for her for fear of being outed herself.

After her situation-ship, firefighter Sandy Lopez, outs her by kissing her in front of the staff in the ER. Weaver eventually becomes more open about her sexuality and redefines herself as a lesbian.

Due to her sometimes strict nature when it came to decision making and discipline, Kerry was subject to acts of prejudice and bigotry from angered staff (such as Dr Malucci, who calls her a slur upon her decision to fire him due to his misconduct). Dr Romano, Chief of Staff, Surgery and the ER, was a narrow-minded and intolerant figure in County General, who often made inappropriate and chauvinistic comments. He and Weaver constantly butted heads in their individual positions of power and were often at disagreement due to their values. Upon Romano’s death, Weaver uses the funds he left the hospital in his will to open an LGBTQ+ healthcare centre in his name, a humorous decision that cemented her victory over the oldfashioned, nasty nature she battled every day in work.

Sandy and Kerry undergo IVF to conceive a child and Kerry falls pregnant but miscarries, a tragedy resulting from complications that came from her age at the time of the treatment. Sandy initially refused to carry their child due to her physical commitments being a lieutenant firefighter, but eventually carried their son, Henry, to term. Following Sandy’s work-related death in season ten, however, her unaccepting family refused to give Kerry custody of her son due to their bigoted beliefs. Following a custody battle, in which the Lopez

family finally agreed to give Kerry custody, she was granted primary custody of Henry with Sandy’s family aiding her during her work hours.

Kerry’s final main storyline in the show was her reconnection with her heavily conservative and Christian biological mother, Helen. Upon Kerry’s admittance of her sexuality to her mother, she is met with disgust and a lack of acceptance due to Helen’s faith. The episode is a turning point and representation of how far Weaver had come, as she refuses to change herself or weaken her position for the sake of being accepted by her mother.

She stands proud of her identity, her late partner and their son, and is forevermore defined in television history as an openly disabled, lesbian icon.

words by: Tegan Davies

In a world witnessing a surge in a contemporary version of the ‘nuclear family,’ many films and TV shows are beginning to delve into the changing face of the ‘modern family.’

As families stray from traditional conventions and expectations, a broader family landscape is starting to emerge on our screens. Media pieces demonstrating a new family dynamic aids the viewer’s mindset as to what a family ‘should’ look like.

A notable example is the American sitcom ‘Modern Family ‘. A pioneer in diverse representation, presented in a mockumentary style, it portrayed the lives of three unique families living in the suburbs of Los Angeles. Running from 2009 to 2020, the show followed the lives of Jay Pritchett and his two adult children, Mitchell and Claire, and their families.

Jay’s younger Columbian wife, Gloria, has a son, Manny, from her previous marriage. In the show’s pilot episode, Jay’s son Mitchell and his partner Cameron adopt their daughter Lily from an orphanage in Vietnam. Receiving a ground-breaking amount of praise for its celebration of diversity, the show demonstrates that not all suburban families follow the traditional route. By displaying such a range of diverse characters in the show, the show gazes into the adoption system, the lives of homosexual relationships and how immigrants adapt to a new country.

With this in mind, ‘Modern Family’ not only normalises the craziness of everyday family life but also acknowledges that every family dynamic is unique. The show’s relatability is not limited to a specific type of family structure. It stretches away from the ideal American suburban family, presenting a more contemporary family dynamic that resonates with a diverse audience. Whether it’s the nuclear family, blended family, or LGBTQ+ family, ‘Modern Family’ celebrates the diversity and mundanity of every family’s day-to-day life.

words by: Amelia Wollacott design by: Alanya Smiith

A Family Fair: The Osmonds

words by: Georgiana Smith

Pushing through a crowd of women over forty, my mum gripped my hand tightly as she desperately dragged me to the front of the screaming mob. Here we were for what seemed the millionth time, with one aim in mind: to catch a glimpse of The Osmonds.

If you don’t know who they are just think colour-coordinated jumpsuits, matching swept fringes and sequins for days. Reaching the height of their pop fame in the 70s, The Osmonds are an American family music group akin to The Jackson 5; they collaborated often. In around 1971, they infected the minds of every teenage girl across the globe, including my mother. Envision a small, bespectacled, redheaded 12-year-old, convinced she will marry Donny Osmond - arguably the Justin Bieber of his time - when her mother took her to her first Osmonds show in 1974. And as my grandmother took my mother, my mother took my sister and I.

They still perform over 50 years since their formation, meaning I grew up with them the same way my mum did. Whenever they announce a UK tour my mum is hot on their tail; I have seen them perform up and down the country since I was as young as 5. Their catchy, pop tunes are etched in my brain, from ‘Puppy Love’ to ‘One Bad Apple’.

Their music takes me back to certain moments; dancing to their songs in the kitchen in my childhood home, my mum and I bathed in warm light with the smell of tomato pasta filling the room as she twirls me around until I’m dizzy. I am also reminded of the times we spent trying to get all seven members’ autographs. I vividly recall my mother frantically lifting my sister over a tall metal fence, holding her close to the top so she could pass over her limited edition vinyl that had been signed by all members bar one: Alan Osmond. My mum was ecstat ic as Donny Osmond grabbed the vinyl and walked it over to the tour bus where he went inside and ensured Alan signed it, so ecstatic that she did not notice my sister had scratched her arm on the fence and was far less thrilled. That vinyl now lies in the large collection of Osmond memorabilia that fills box upon box in our attic, collected from a lifetime of dedication.

Even now, my sister and I sometimes hear the faint beat of an Osmonds song in some faraway pub and, no matter where we are, we never miss the opportunity to send a quick text informing our mum her favourite band is playing. It’s a compulsion that stems from a mixture of pure indoctrination and motherly love. So, when I think of family, I think of The Osmonds, not only because they are one of the biggest family musical groups ever, but because my mum loves them, and I love her.

design by: Alicia Yap

illustration by: Alicia Yap

Stardust - Nat King Cole and the Mother of my Mother’s Mother

words by: Rebecca Watson

design by: Alicia Yap

illustration by: Alicia Yap

Music has an incredible ability to tie people together, through the vibrant experience of human consciousness and interpersonal relationships. When this consciousness develops, the people you spend the most time with are your family. Some parents play Mozart during pregnancy, but my memories of music with my family as a child was The Scissor Sisters’ ‘I Don’t Feel Like Dancing’ and my dad’s favourite, The Prodigy’s ‘Fat of the Land’, blasting full volume with the windows down in his old blue Citreon.

great-grandfather, the older brother of a close friend, and got married at 18. My grandma told me that he had a ‘lovely singing voice’, and sang sweetly in their small house and among the sounds of wartime metalworkers. The deaths of their family and friends during the war could easily have removed music from their lives, from the walks with their grandchildren in springtime when the bluebells would bloom in the Yorkshire Dales. But they prevailed.

The unquestionable matriarch of my mother’s family had a long life, filled with fresh cut flowers and lemon furniture polish and an obsessive tendency to measure the distance of the corners of her bedsheets from the floor when making her bed. She was the queen. She died this past summer, and her funeral was filled with her whole royal court of offspring; in the second row my immediate family dressed in creams and greys, upon her request not to wear black to her funeral. A compromise; anything too bright, too close to bluebells and lemons, would have felt wrong for the loss of such a life.

Musical experiences with family as a child, however, are mostly a passive bonding experience. One of my most treasured memories of music with my family actually came a few months into my adulthood. I have always had a connection to soul and jazz, with long-standing musical love affairs with Aretha Franklin, Amy Winehouse and Etta James, though how this connection developed I don’t know. This was not the music of my parents, and they’d laugh and call me an old soul hearing me listen to James Brown at 14.

This love affair was so deep-rooted that I would listen to it to go to sleep, drifting off to the dulcet sounds of a time long before mine. A personal favourite was ‘Stardust’ by Nat King Cole. This music was my grandparents’ and great-grandparents’; my grandad Peter nodded approvingly when I showed him my playlists. It filled my mind with a time when my grandparents were bright and youthful, a post-war glow over Britain; a romanticised time of enviable 1960s economics and a bouquet of flowers when he knocks on your door.

My great-grandma was born in 1926, in struggling prewar Yorkshire, leaving school at fourteen and working in a textiles factory to support her family. She met my

But walking into that church, on that drizzly grey morning, I heard the echo of violins and harps among the stained-glass windows. The angelic sound of ‘Stardust’. Tears pricked in my eyes as I walked down the aisle; and sat down beside my brother, squeezing his hand tightly in mine as I looked upon the wrongly small oak casket. Even though we had never spoken of music, a woman who was over 85 years older than me, and the mother of my mother’s mother, also loved the sounds of Nat King Cole.

Sometimes I will go into my kitchen, and hear my mother playing that song. Even whilst she is gone, she remains bonded to us forever, in the smell of lemon furniture polish, pitch-perfect whistling on the Yorkshire Dales, bluebells, and in the white sparkle of the night sky. In ‘Stardust’.

photography by: Adam Breen

Dark Academia

Unveiling Hidden Realms - Empowerment Through Student Societies

Dark academia is a genre loved by so many contemporary readers. In recent years, not only has the genre diversified modern literature, it has also blurred the lines of past and present classics, along with their tropes. It offers complex narratives, intricate plots and characters that resonate with readers unique qualities. Atmospheric settings also captivate readers by transforming them into a realm beyond their books and bedroom. The genre revolutionises peoples’ own reading experience by deeply immersing readers into the lives of character’s personalities, and settings that are anything but ordinary. In turn this allows readers to feel seen and understood through the glorification and unique qualities of non-conformists.

It is through these written characters, often deemed as ‘outsiders’, that the most common traits of dark academia were born. The creation of societies and communities where these groups of people can come together, find their place, and thrive within their own element without judgement. As a lover of dark academia myself, I would argue that it is through these communities that a fresher’s perspective of life is portrayed, creating a sense of empowerment between the lines. The character dynamics and interests, often merged within the setting of a prestigious environments creates an ambience that is both cosy and comforting. It invokes an enigmatic and page-turning naturequalities that I look for in a good piece of literature.

Recognised as two of the leading bestsellers of the genre, The Secret History (1992) by Donn Tartt and If We Were Villains (2017) by M. L. Rio, serve as perfect examples of these tropes, invoking a sense of family and looseness through non-conformity. The Secret History focuses on a group of classics students at a highly prestigious school, while If We

Were Villains follows a similar concept, but on Shakespeare students. Both offer insights into these intellectual pursuits and the compelling aspect of dark academia through shared experiences that mirror aspects of family life.

It is my belief that books and literature can touch one’s soul and comfort a person, just as much as a physical interaction. So, in place of social interaction, literature too can be there for you like a family member, recognising you for your likes and experiences. Particularly when it comes to genre preferences, which dark academia excels in, due to its absolute uniqueness and emphasis on closeness, through dark experiences and distinctive environments.

Whether you are a fan of the genre, or are yet to try it out, if you are seeking complete immersion of an all-encompassing experience akin to sitting in a library lit by the glow of a fireplace amidst a storm, I cannot recommend dark academia enough. The genre showcases the relevance of communities through empowering individuals who feel disconnected from the mainstream, which I believe is truly worth reading. Through clandestine societies; notions of power, friendship, loyalty and allegiance come alive in the mind of the reader.

words by: Sam Davies

design by: Alanya Smith

In the nineteenth century, the literary orphan became popular in novels such as Oliver Twist (1839) by Charles Dickens. Personifying a sense of detachment from a typical family network, the literary orphan is a character out of place. They are forced to make their own version of family and a sense of home. In literature, orphaned characters find a unique sense of family and home through bonds that transcend traditional bloodlines. These relationships explore the strong connection of resilience, love and family.

J.K Rowling’s Harry Potter is an example of this. Harry is an orphaned boy whose wicked aunt and uncle neglectfully take him in, but in the eve of his 11th birthday he is told that he is a wizard and will join Hogwarts to practice wizardry. Through the series of novels, Harry learns to build a sense of home and family whilst he is away at school. In turn her creates an unconventional family of his own. Harry is often shown spending time with his best friend Ron Weasley’s family, they and Hogwarts accept him for who his is. These new connections Harry has made for himself have given him a sense of belonging. The family that he has chosen to form and connect with surpasses everything of the relationship he had with his aunt and uncle.

Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre (1847) is another literary orphan treated similarly to Harry. Jane was raised by her cruel aunt, Mrs Reed. In the novel Jane’s life follows a strict theme of independence in the novel, as she faces many challenges in trying to build relationships of her own. Demonstrating resilience, Jane must actively find her own versions of home and place. Initially Jane finds herself in the home of her newfound relatives, the Rivers, they gladly accept her until she is pressured to marry her cousin. Forced to relocate again, she finds her way back to Rochester, where she feels destined to be. By the end of the novel, she finds solace in the comfort of her marriage to Mr. Rochester, following a period of having to rebuild their bond and relationship.

The novel grew as a genre representing ordinary people’s efforts to navigate life and create a sense of belonging. The literary orphan is a character that the reader can relate to as they are often interpreted as being predominately more realistic. This contrasts the upper-class individuals in the likes of Jane Austin’s novels, for example. Free from stereotypical conventions, such as family, orphan characters are placed in a world full of possibilities. Often the orphan will encounter life threats and challenges, whilst over coming these they will take the reader along. As a character the literary orphan personifies a sense of detachment from the traditional family network. Essentially, this character becomes a unique entity within the novel, unbound by traditional conventions. Free from the typical family setting, the orphan character frequently deviates from established norms, to gain autonomy and agency in their own sense of belonging.

words by: Amelia Wollacot

design by: Mia Coley

THE RICHIE-GRAINGE FAMILY

have they bought back old-money style?

TikTok and Instagram users are currently witnessing the phenomenon that is the ‘old-money’ aesthetic as well as the trendy ‘scandy-girl’ style which has been popularised by Matilda Djerf. Are we returning to a more simple wardrobe, and stripping back the over the top colours and patterns? Matilda Djerf has been at the forefront of this fashion movement, and has taken over the fashion industry with her clothing brand, ‘Djerf Avenue’ where she has capitalised on her success in social media. Through this brand, Matilda is helping her viewers achieve the look that they desire, and spreading this understated look beyond Scandinavia. While Djerf Avenue has grown this aesthetic across Europe, other socialites and influencers have helped increase the globalisation of the more understated wardrobe of 2024.

Sofia Richie Grainge and her husband Elliot Grainge have led a new aesthetic movement both in terms of fashion and their lifestyle. The pair have publicised their lifestyle since getting married in 2023. The Richie-Grainge family’s paired-back wardrobe harkens back to the ‘90s when street style was riddled with minimalism and neutral colours. While Sofia grew up in the spotlight, her popularity has skyrocketed within the last year and she has inspired the dress sense of this generation. Fashion enthusiasts have coined the term, ‘the Sofia Richie effect’, which has become synonymous with understated luxury and effortless style. Many aspire to take inspiration from Sofia and emulate her lifestyle, which has meant a plethora of articles and videos across the internet detailing how to achieve her notable look. This fashion movement has also increased the hype around certain brands which cater towards the old-money style which many people desire. Some of Sofia and Elliot’s famous brands which have catapulted in relevance include Tom Ford, The Row, and even Sofia’s own brand, Solid and Striped. All of these brands carry themselves on their everyday elegance, with this being the tagline for Sophia’s clothing brand.

It is plain to see that this wave of classic and neutral palettes has taken the fashion world by storm, and many brands and people have capitalised on this. However, have these basics earned a seat at the table forever, or will they be replaced with new wardrobe essentials? Personally, I believe that neutrals and classics are always a staple and will keep their place in people’s wardrobes but at the same time, with new people rising in popularity and inspiring people with their fashion, we are bound to witness

the ever-changing nature of fashion and how trends seem to have a cyclical aspect to them. The Richie-Grainge family and Matilda Djerf (among others) have carried us into 2024 with this fresh and clean-cut fashion sense, but we will soon see whether this old-money style is here to stay, or whether another trend is brought in.

Words by: Bhamini Khandige

Since Sofia Richie’s unanticipated appearance on TikTok the week before her wedding to British music executive Elliot Grainge, the internet has witnessed the resurgence of the old-money style. Their star-studded wedding at the Hotel du Cap-Eden-Roc in Antibes featured a trio of dresses created by Chanel, alongside custom suits by Ralph Lauren and Tom Ford, delivering a sense of timelessness and modesty which captivated millions worldwide. Photographs of Richie-Grainge’s bespoke Chanel dresses undoubtedly went viral; however, it was her evening look that garnered the most attention – a mini-dress inspired by a look from the Chanel archives, previously worn by supermodel Claudia Schiffer on the catwalk, paired with the signature ‘clean girl’ slicked-back ponytail. Critics are now abuzz with fresh takes on Richie’s recent style transformation, with many claiming her as the face of the old money style.

Both Sofia and her husband Elliot come from first-generation wealth, however, contrary to many other ‘nepo babies’ the Richie-Grainge family have truly captured the essence of quiet luxury through their conservative and modest fashion choices. As Sofia has matured into a young woman, her style has undoubtedly followed. Her wardrobe consists of classic, timeless pieces which embody the belief that ‘less is more’, with the 24-year-old often seen wearing minimalist pieces from Chanel, The Row and Bottega Veneta. Think: Yves Saint Laurent blazer, The Row cotton t-shirt, bootcut jeans and slingback pumps paired with a classic Chanel Camellia Bowling Bag. Her outfits are primarily confined to neutral palettes with the occasional pop of colour, affording her a refined elegance. Following the popularity of the Sofia Richie-inspired old money aesthetic, Richie-Grainge has since collaborated with Solid and Striped introducing a Spring 2024 Collection destined to combine youthful modernity and class. Without a doubt, many pieces from the collection like The Lucerne Dress – an elegant black midi dress with an A-line silhouette – are inspired by her own style. Husband Elliot Grainge certainly compliments Sofia’s newfound chic style, often matching her looks with a similar colour palette. It comes as no surprise that the couple continue to take the internet by storm during their style streak.

By incorporating timeless pieces into her look, Richie has contributed to the comeback of ‘90s minimalist fashion, an era marked by tailored blazers, straight silhouettes and effortless elegance. Sofia strays away from current fashion trends, instead, her wardrobe is marked by her classic neutral staples like many of us. Due to fast fashion, trend cycles are changing rapidly, making it hard for many to keep up with whatever bright colours and bold patterns are currently trending; although the old money style provides connotations of wealth and luxury items, the aesthetic can be recreated by anyone as it includes timeless, simple pieces that never go out of style. The hashtag #sofiarichiestyle now has 10.4k posts on Tiktok, with users creating Sofia Richie-inspired looks using affordable items: the old-money style can be recreated by anyone.

words by: Maya Jacob design by: Mia Wilson

In the fashion world

When I first jumped on this pitch, I actually had to have a serious think about what my opinion on nepotism really was, especially as I work quite a bit in the fashion industry - where the general attitude towards so-called “nepo-babies” is so negative.

The unfairness of individuals succeeding in a highly competitive industry because they are the child or close relative of someone who has already made it in fashion, whether as a model or a fashion designer, has been one of the most hot topics for debate since Stella McCartney first rose to fame under the shadow of her legendary father in 1995. Some of the world’s most infamous models are nepo-babies, including the likes of Damien Hurley, Kaia Gerber, Lila Moss, and Kendall Jenner, and it can be very easy to adopt the same viewpoint as the general population by arguing that the offspring of famous fashion designers or models have grown up surrounded by the spotlight of these idols and have only been successful in their careers because of this.

Nepotism is as much on the runway as it is behind the scenes at designer labels, but only because fashion, like any other industry, is based around luck and connections. As well as being blessed with connections and privilege, these children are also very popular with brands just because of their famous parentage, as celebrity endorsement increases consumer sales and status.

words by: Rhiannon James

design by: Alicia Yap

There’s no denying the influence that having famous parents and relatives can have for those breaking into the fashion world. These people have no shortage of exposure, which is vital in an industry where exposure is one of the keys to success. Some might also argue that this privilege means the eradication of diversity and new talent, with the market so saturated by one demographic; and that nepo-babies like Kaia Gerber and Delphine Arnault have no real talent.

However, why are we so quick to dismiss our own judgement? As surely whether a person’s career takes off is, in part, decided by the public eye. In this case, I believe that if these nepo-babies didn’t have talent of some measure, then they would quickly fall out of favour in one area and just switch to another specialism to achieve stardom.

To succeed in the fashion world you need to have four things - luck, connections, talent, and a hefty sprinkling of determination- and having connections is definitely part of the luck side of things. So maybe we just can’t bear that these nepo-fashionistas got lucky, and jealousy is the real reason behind the nepotism shaming. After all, if you had the connections to catapult yourself into your dream career, why wouldn’t you use them?

So… I eventually came to the conclusion that it is probably most likely the more unpopular opinion of those available: nepotism is completely ok, justified, and if anything, a category we would all fall into if we got the chance.

illustration by: Alicia Yap

photography by: Jiacheng Liu

TRAVELLING WITH LOVED ONES OR FLYING SOLO?

Thrill, excitement, and joy, coupled with a tinge of anxiety are just few of the many emotions we bound to feel when travelling, whether that is with friends, family or solo. Although I have flown alone countless of times, knowing that a familiar face would always welcome me at ‘Arrivals’ made my journey a little bit more bearable. Whether that was my sister in Madrid or my friends in Greece, I have never navigated a new place or country all by myself.

However, even as an avid traveller, intense ‘pre-flight jitters’ will always rush throughout my body as soon as I enter the airport, no matter if I’m travelling alone or with a group. Since I am not a fully emersed solo traveller, despite a few flights, my travel experiences have always been conducted as a group of two or more. In my experience, travelling with either a close friend or family can turn a mundane airport day into a more enjoyable one, whether that is the long drive to the airport, the exhaustive security queue, or the plane ride. Being able to chat, plan our days and create silly itineraries over iced coffee whilst we wait for our gate to be announced, is one of the best ways to start a holiday. Even the first step into an unfamiliar place becomes tolerable when you know that you’re going to experience all these new sights, smells, and sounds together. Guiding each other through the streets, trying the local cuisine, and exploring new places as a group creates the best and funniest memories to look back on. Although I love travelling with company, I am excited for the day I will finally travel solo.

words by: Nicole Saroglou

I am one of six children. Unfortunately for my dad, having this many children comes with a lot of expenses. Although I have never set foot in an airport with my family, I have been lucky enough to visit many countries as a solo traveller, including New Zealand, Nepal, Namibia, Switzerland, and more. Whilst travelling solo is extremely exciting and nerve racking, it allowed me to embrace my inner introvert, which I wouldn’t normally be able to do at home. The certain points of quietude during my trips would remind me how they normally would’ve been filled with the yelling of my fourteen-year-old brother on the Xbox, or the whining of my three-year-old sister to join her tea party. Since our family ranges from 6 months to 24 years, deciding on a destination would be difficult. I do not wish to witness the shrill cries of my baby sister nor the recurring theme tune of paw patrol, so a short flight somewhere in Europe would be most preferable. I can imagine how in the airport, my teenage brother would lose his entire suitcase and whilst searching the entire airport for it, we’d unintentionally discover my seven-year-old

brother, in a different terminal, chatting to a confused but impressed pilot about the aviation industry. At this point, my dad would desperately be trying to book a lounge to avoid more chaos, whilst the only adult influence, my twenty-four- year-old sister, would be trying to perfect the German language on Duolingo, stating “das ist nicht sehr gut” as we are told our flight has been delayed by five hours. All in all, although I am grateful to have been able to travel solo to some exciting places, I would love to have just one opportunity for all my family to be together in another country: despite the inevitable madness.

words by: Nicole Halmkan

I have been raised in a family that truly loves to explore. Long haul flights have been part of my travel experiences since I about six years old, which would simply not have been possible without travelling with my parents. So now, at twenty-two, having the confidence to travel solo has only been achievable because of them. However, travel days look very different with family vs solo. A 24-hour flight in economy is completely opposed to one in business class. I’d choose sitting in a pre-flight lounge over a dingy overpriced airport bar, any day of the week. Travelling with my family feels like a blessing. An airport dad is defined as the person that oversees the travel day. Passports? They’ve got them. Checking in? They did it yesterday. Suitcases weighed? Of course. My family doesn’t just have an airport dad, but we have a holiday dad. He has a step-by-step itinerary for each day of the holiday, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. Writing this, I am away with my family of 4 for the first time in years. We all have a printed itinerary, of which we have been reminded to memorise. We leave the planning and the logisticswith dad. He loves it. He plans everythingnand makes sure we are all in the thought process. I think I’m turning into him, as a day-by-day itinerary has become an essential aspect when travelling. Prior to my trip, I always send it to my dad for his thoughts, but really it’s for his approval. It has made my life knowing I’ve taken his genes in travel organisations. I am extremely lucky to have an airport dad.

words by: Emily Redmond

design by: Elinor Pyman

F a mily Holi d ay M emories

Growing up, I have always been constantly surrounded by my family. Living next door to my cousins and grandad for most of my life, and with the rest of my family within half an hour’s drive, we have always been in and out of each other’s pockets. However, some of my fondest memories with my family come from our holidays.

My parents separated when I was young, so my younger brother and I have two different types of family holidays. My Mum’s Dad, my Grandad, lives in Anglesey, North Wales. We typically visit him for a week over the Easter holidays, and we have done this ever since I can remember. During our visit, we would travel around the island to different places, our favourite stop always being Penrhyn Castle. We would then spend every evening chatting in my grandad’s cottage. My Grandad lives in a rural village not far from Snowdonia, and if you stand in the middle of the street outside his house, you can see the snow on the mountains in the

distance. As an avid gardener, my grandad always has something blooming in his garden that he likes to show us. Similarly, he and his partner are big on collecting antiques and have always collected something new they want to show us. One year, they collected oil lamps; another year, they were banjos, and another was silver rings. There is always something interesting and different that they both must show us, and it has become a ritual for my brother and I to guess what they want to show us. My brother and I have always loved spending time there. Now that we are older, we enjoy just walking around the local area and finding new hiking paths. It is such a beautiful landscape, so we always try to find a new part we haven’t been to yet.

On my Dad’s side of the family, we have a tradition of my Granny, Auntie, Uncle, and Cousins (along with my Dad, Step-Mum, and Brother) going on a holiday abroad. On our first family holiday together in February 2014, we went to Disneyland Paris for a week. My cousins and I were quite young at this time (between the ages of 4 and 11), and my Granny knitted my Cousin and me bright bobble hats to wear throughout the trip to spot us in the crowds. As we were there for so long, we also went into the magical city of Paris. Climbing the Eiffel Tower for the first time was something I will always remember.

Our second trip was to Malta in 2019. We all rented a villa for 10 days and explored the island together. This was more of a relaxing holiday spent cooking together, swimming in the villa pool, playing games and enjoying our time together. We are in the process of trying to plan our next one now.

Some of my fondest memories are from these holidays with my family. However, with the realities of getting older and having more responsibilities, arranging these types of holidays becoming increasingly more difficult. With these get-togethers becoming less frequent, we are always hoping to have trips together like that again.

words by: Amelia Wollacott design by: Elinor Pyman

Mince the garlic, ginger, and chillies together and add to a large pan on a medium heat, slowly frying the aromatics.

Add the curry paste and spice and mix together, continually stirring on a medium heat.

Dice the onion and add to the pan, sweating down till the onion becomes soft (add water if the mix starts to catch).

Next add the cauliflower and aubergine, then add the toma toes, drained chickpeas, and stock cube, plus a can of boiling water to the pan, and mix until fully incorporated.

Add the coconut milk and con tinue to simmer, adding more water if the sauce becomes too thick.

Add the frozen spinach and allow to melt, while you dice the bell pepper, carrot, and aubergine, and cut the cauliflower into florets. Steam the butternut squash and remove the skin

Once the spinach has melted, add the carrots, peppers and squash, stirring to combine and making sure the butter nut has mashed in the

50%.

Once you reach your ideal sauce thickness, remove from heat and serve!

• 1 onion

• 3 cloves garlic

• 2 red chillies

• an inch of ginger

• 1 tsp turmeric

• 1 tsp ground cumin

• 1 tsp curry powder

• 3 tsp curry paste

• 3 cubes frozen spinach

• 1 bell pepper

• 1 carrot

• 1⁄2 a head of cauliflower

• 1⁄2 aubergine

• 1⁄4 of a butternut squash

• 1 can chopped tomatoes

• 1 vegetable stock cube

• 1 can chickpeas

• 1 can coconut milk

Feed The Fam: A Recipe For Vegetable Curry

A very non-traditional curry, which has a sweeter note and subtle heat that will not upset even the weakest of spice tolerators. This recipes makes enough for 5, but can be made for more by adding more vegetables and serving with sides – plus if you have leftovers, this recipes can easily be frozen for a later date.

words by: Ellen Hollingshurst (@a_bakingmess)

and illustrations by: Elinor Pyman

The dinner table is more than just a piece of furniture. It holds a power in which people are united, connected and nourished with the foods they put into their bodies and their souls.

The dinner table serves as a symbol of unity, communication and shared experiences. Families and friends gather to share stories of their day, laugh over shared jokes and discuss matters both trivial and profound. It is a ritual-led cornerstone in which relationships are strengthened, bonds are formed, and memories are created. The dinner table is a platform for social and cultural exchange, where meals symbolise more than just taste but of ancestry, memory and tradition.

From a young age, most of us grow up with a family dinner table, a staple in our kitchens where we indulge in food and storytelling. To me, my dinner table is a space of love. It is a space of chatter and laughter. It is a space of sibling teasing and inside jokes. It is important for my family, the act of gathering for a meal provides a precious opportunity to pause and catch up on each other’s lives.

THE POWER OF THE DINNER TABLE

In today’s fast-paced world, where schedules are often hectic and technology keeps us constantly connected yet emotionally distant, the dinner table holds an increasingly significant role in maintaining the fabric of our relationships and well-being by making time for togetherness. For an hour a day, time slows, and stress is relieved. The dinner table is there constantly, serving as an escape from the chaos of daily life. In essence, the dinner table is not just its physical appearance and embracing the tradition of gathering not only enriches our lives but also reaffirms the enduring power of love, care and connection.

words by: Ellisse Heller

design by: Mia Wilson

photography by: Adam Breen

photography by: Jiacheng Liu

ysgrifenwyd

ysgrifenwyd gan:

Bethan Rocke

darluniwyd gan:

Mia Wilson

gan: Beca Dalis

Gad dy Glebar!

Dyma Osian Williams a gafodd ei enwebu gan Llyr Eirug yn y rhifyn ddiwethaf. Dewch i weld beth mae’n clebran amdani...

Beth yw dy enw?

Osian Rhys Williams

Beth mae dy ffrindiau yn dy alw di?

Ooh

O ble wyt ti’n dod?

Dwi’n dod o Aberystwyth

Tri gair i ddisgrifio dy hun?

Alci, caredig a doniol

Pa gwrs wyt ti’n ei hastudio ac ym mha flwyddyn wyt ti?

Dwi’n astudio Hanes ac ar hyn o bryd yn fy ail flwyddyn

Ble byddwn ni’n debygol o ddod o hyd i ti ar nos Sadwrn?

Mwy na thebyg yn Clwb Ifor Bach ar ol gweld Cymru yn colli unwaith eto!

Beth yw dy ‘hangover cure’?

Peint a cinio dydd Sul

Hoff beth am ddinas Caerdydd?

Popeth yn agos iawn at ei gilydd

Beth yw dy ‘go to drink’ ar nosweth allan?

Defo ‘double vodka orange’

Hoff beth am fod yn Gymro/Cymraes?

Canu’r anthem yn y stadiwm

Beth yw un arferiad gwael sydd gennyt ti?

Ddim cofio nosweithiau allan!

’Tip’ byddech chi’n rhoi i fyfywiwr blwyddyn gyntaf?

Pediwch mynd i’r 9am seminar ar ddydd Iau ar ol bod allan

Beth yw un cyfrinach sydd gennyt ti?

Lyfio gwrando i Avril Lavigne

Hoff gân?

‘Goleuadau Llundain’ gan Daniel Lloyd a Mr Pinc

Pwy sydd angen cau eu clebar erbyn tro nesaf?

Dwi’n enwebu Gareth Jones nesaf!

darluniwyd gan: Alanya Smith

UNFREE LOVE: Spotlight

Not Being Accepted For Who You Are

Your family are the people that should be the closest in your life, and you grow up expecting them to be your biggest support. So when this isn’t the case, it can have a huge impact on your life.

It took a long time for me to be comfortable enough in my identity as a non-binary person to feel ready to tell my family, as I was afraid that they wouldn’t be accepting. It was important for me to have a community of friends that I knew did accept me, so that I would have support regardless of my family’s reaction.

While my siblings were very happy and supportive of me, my parents were unable to understand my identity, and made very little effort to use my pronouns. It’s challenging to have this experience and avoid questioning your identity further. It can open up strong feelings of shame and guilt that can leave you quite isolated. Having to present and act differently around your family is really hard, and can have a huge impact on your mental health.

I have come to accept my situation, and the fact that my parents cannot understand my identity. While this can have a significant impact on me, I try to instead focus on the community I have built for myself. I have been able to build a strong

family of people who love me for who I am, and always go out of their way to make me feel comfortable and supported. By leaning on them, and lessening my expectations of my family, I have been able to avoid feelings of isolation and live freely.

words by: Freya Johns

The heavily Catholic environment of the schools I attended while growing up meant that I was often taught that any identity that wasn’t cisgender or heterosexual was shameful.

Upon learning of my bisexuality, it was heavily suggested to me by staff that the act of prayer and submission to God would ‘heal’ or ‘fix’ me – with an unspoken proposition that there was something wrong or sinful within me that needed to be addressed.

I was an experimentive child, never shying away from exploring my identity. Despite always identifying as cis, the short haircut I had from the ages of 10-13 exposed me to a lot of unwarranted bigotry and nastiness for the sole reason that I did not fit the feminine norms. Both teachers and students made unwarranted comments about who I was and how I identified. I was followed into town, jumped, and taunted with slurs for being different, and the school seemed to endorse this as my existence did not entirely complement the ideals of a Catholic child at the time.

I never truly grasped it – how an all-loving, forgiving God could see my existence as invalid and dishonourable for the honourable crime of having a heart large enough to love multiple genders. Luckily, my family did not hold these beliefs, despite some believing in much of the Christian faith, morals, and values. I learnt that the only acceptance I valued was that of my loved ones, and more importantly, my own.

I’m not religious now by any means. Still, I like to hope that, if such a God exists, the Christian conditioning that heterosexuality is the only orientation that grants you such love and respect from him, falls short of the true boundaries of his capability. My growth into a woman has taught me that as long as I remain faithful to who I know I am, I will never again exist in a surrounding that makes me believe I am unable, and unfree, to love.

words by: Tegan Davies

design by: Mia Wilson

We are constantly fed the narrative that as modern women, we can do anything we want. The perfect cocktail of motherhood and a high-flying career is supposedly possible. But is saying yes to more power in the workplace, on top of raising a family, inevitably saying yes to an unmanageable amount of work?

Managing my workload and social life well is a balance that I have struggled to strike throughout university. As I have taken on more extracurriculars and the workload has ramped up in my final year, I have been worse at remembering birthdays, calling home, and finding time for romance. It’s not like I am the CEO of a company, but I do feel that the more I have pursued and achieved my academic and career goals, the more my capacity for personal relationships has become strained.

Whilst I have fully embraced being in my masculine energy this year, I have noticed myself becoming more cutthroat, wilful, and unable to relax. Feminine energy is characterised by being nurturing, gentle and going with the flow. Although leaning into this energy can be great for your personal life, it won’t necessarily get you far in your professional one. Men are more likely to apply for jobs where they don’t meet the criteria, as well as negotiate pay raises, whereas women often wait more than they take.

As women increasingly have the space to excel in corporate environments, the misogyny which has long been perpetuated in professional spheres is being called into question. Taylor Swift’s catchy anthem The Man highlights society’s starkly different reception to assertive behaviour, depending on which gender executes it. An issue with women ‘having it all’ seems to be the emasculation this can rouse from colleagues and partners. Films, such as Netflix’s Fairplay, which was based on the creator’s past relationships, showcase the testosterone-driven hell that can break loose when a woman’s career surpasses those of the men around her.

So where does this leave things when it comes to having children, whilst climbing the already slippery career ladder?

As The Telegraph wrote, ‘Women have to balance carefully their decision to become a parent on both finance and fertility’. A few years ago, I worked with a lady who described the number of hours she worked as being just enough for it to be worth paying for the required childcare during her shifts.

The 2021 British Census revealed that the average age for first-time mothers has increased to 30.9 years. The average age for fathers has remained constant at 33.7 years. Additionally, this was the first year that babies born outside of marriage and civil partnership (51.3%) surpassed those born within traditional commitment frames.

Women are increasingly choosing to build their careers before starting a family, but that doesn’t mean we can take our time. With fertility declining barely after 30, a woman can’t afford to blindly focus on her career, if she wants a family too. Men can biologically bide their time for much longer, and even find fatherhood as they approach their deathbeds. The playing field is not equal. Women have historically faced workplace discrimination around pregnancy. A culture of maintaining secrecy around childbearing plans has emerged as a survival strategy for females climbing the career ladder.

If a woman does decide to have a career break to have children, it will be more difficult for her when she returns. Because in addition to her office job, she’ll have another full-time job waiting at home. When it comes to emotional labour, women tend to toe the line, though this can be seen as an invisible task. When it comes to motherhood, women haven’t just got a bun in the oven for 9 months, they’ll most likely spend the next 18 years with something in the oven, whilst their partners are down the pub.

Many women are resisting the grind, in favour of a traditional lifestyle. Indeed, ‘Tradwives’, are taking the internet by storm, suggesting that much of society is drawn to these 1950s-esque ideals. Think doing laundry and baking muffins whilst wearing floral dresses as you hoover the already clean carpet for the fourth time this week. In our culture, we are torn between toxic productivity and outdated gender roles. Is there somewhere in the middle, where having a uterus doesn’t mean that your career comes second to a man? Maybe we could start by looking at Japan’s world leading paternity leave standards.

I still don’t understand why most of my English Literature course is female, yet this isn’t reflected in the gender ratio of our professors. Could it be that men just feel more entitled to go for the top? Or is it because the women who could’ve held some of these positions were professionally disadvantaged by having children?

words by: Laura W Schjoett

design by: Mia Coley

photography by: Mia Wilson

My Mummy and Daddy at Uni

design by: Mia Wilson

As of April 2024, my parents have been married for 27 years, and officially together for over 30. They are the most loving, respectful, and caring couple I know, and they achieved what many consider the ‘impossible’ – finding lasting love at university.

Whilst starting university life and moving to a new city brings an exciting array of fresh faces and with it, unknown bounds of romantic possibility, students living in the modern era of university life often seem to turn away from committing to a serious relationship. Anecdotes of breakups in exchange for the so-called ‘uni experience’ are hardly few and far between. Perhaps it is the current dynamics around virtual romance via dating apps that is much more of a detriment to us than we think.

My parents met as anybody did at university in the 1990s (and granted, many people still do today) - organically through socialising. Friends of friends would introduce friends, and so on. In a world without texting; where ‘see you later’ was simply a vague understanding that you would in some pub or club, the entirety of the development of my parent’s relationship was done face to face. This culminated on December 3rd 1990 (my mum’s birthday), when my dad asked my mum out at the Imperial Hotel in Exeter during one of the university’s social events. They continued to stay together throughout the entire three years of university and beyond, getting married in April 1997. That sheer commitment continues to astound me even to this day, and when I asked them how they have made that love last, it all boiled down to one simple thing – just talking. Before the internet opened the scope for miscommunication, pressure to reply within a certain timeframe,

and upholding expectations created by social media, anything my parents needed to talk about had to be done in the physical presence of each other, and this was invaluable to them.

This sounds idyllic, and so far removed from our reality today. I think a lot of people from my parents’ generation consider it far better than the modern alternative of dating apps such as Tinder or Hinge. I remember being nervous to tell my mum that I was using a dating app at all! However, I don’t think that it’s dating apps themselves that are the cause of the issue, but the expectation of love and relationships at university itself. I personally think dating apps are great – they allow you to meet people you never would inside your usual social circles that are often bound by societies or study course (no way would I be going on a date with somebody who did Biomed otherwise!).

The problem lies with what we want to achieve from meeting these people. If we enter the dating headspace with the expectation that it won’t last because it’s ‘only’ university, we’re often more inclined to manifest this as reality and perpetuate the cycle we’ve created for ourselves. I consider my parents as shining a lights into why love at university CAN be something far more tangible than we believe.

Love at university is entirely possible and very real, we just have to take inspiration from who we know - Mummy and Daddy.

words by: Katherine Dean

navigating my blended family

Most people used to envy me for having two Christmases, birthdays, and Easters, but in reality it just makes things more complicated. My parents have been divorced since I was 5 years old (I am now 21), and my younger brother was only 3 (now 19). This has meant that most of our lives we have been accustomed to the ‘back-and-forth’ of living with both parents. My brother argues that he has never really known anything different, whereas I can still cling on to a few memories from when they were together. When I was younger, I often felt the concept of having two separate occasions to celebrate different holidays rather exciting. It meant my brother and I could celebrate for longer by having two Christmas days and birthdays. One thing I have found quite special about having separate holidays is seeing both sides of my family on both days. Coming from a very close family that lives close to each other is something I have always loved about my family.

Growing up, my dad (who lived in my childhood home for several years after the divorce before living in our grandad’s old house) lived next door to my auntie, uncle, and two cousins. What was even funnier was that my Grandad lived next door to them! This meant that come the weekends, we would stay with my dad, walk over to the other houses, and spend days there or sleeping over. Although it is not possible for us to all be together on one day anymore, I still cherish the time I get to spend with each of them on separate days.

While my brother and I were learning to drive, we

decided to ‘trial and error’ and create Christmas and birthdays where we saw both parents in one day. It all started when I passed my driving test. We decided to spend Christmas Eve with our mum until after lunch then, we would drive to our Granny’s house, where our dad’s family Christmas was being held that year. The plan was perfect... or so we thought. After having a lovely morning, our mum was naturally saddened to see us go and wanted us to stay longer, although we had previously promised to be at the other party at a certain time. Feeling bad about it, we decided to stay a little longer. As the eldest child, I have always been conscious of ensuring everyone in the family is happy, feeling like it is my responsibility. Reflecting on the day, my brother and I felt exhausted. Trying to pack two Christmases in one day was something we knew we couldn’t do every year.

Similarly, I tried to get my entire family to attend my 21 st birthday party last year. It was a success in some respect, but I know it made a lot of the family feel a little awkward as they haven’t all been in the same room together in years. I am so grateful they did that for me, but I think it’s easier if we keep to the separate events for the foreseeable future!

The reality of having these separate holidays and events is very difficult, especially with such a large family including stepparents’ parents and stepsiblings. I would say that the biggest positive of having such long periods to celebrate special occasions is that I always get to see different family members and have quality time with each of them. It isn’t easy, as my grandparents are all divorced too, meaning I must see

them separately from some of my other grandparents. The life of having a divorced family, let alone a divorced parent, is certainly never boring! With so many separate family parties going on, you can really celebrate to the fullest!

words by: Amelia Wollacott photography by: Mia Wilson design by: Alanya Smith

THE OLD AND THE NEW: Changing

Friendships from Undergrad to Postgrad

As the academic year draws to a close, many of you will soon be packing up your things, heading home, and graduating. The realisation that you may never live near your best friends again can be daunting. Furthermore, returning to your university city for a master’s while your friends move forward may leave you feeling left behind or frozen in time.

While being in physical proximity to everyone at university means you are constantly in touch, graduation disrupts this dynamic, and people get caught up in something called life. Maintaining friendships becomes a new challenge; some friendships may fade, others may become distant, and some may strengthen even further. This is natural, and you need to let it take its course.

It is important to maintain those friendships that you have made throughout university. However, your master’s will present an exciting opportunity to build new friendships with like-minded individuals who share your ambitions. I have been fortunate enough to form the loveliest group of friends during my postgraduate study.

Here’s my advice: Embrace the change and put in the effort. Take a chance, send someone a message, and suggest attending introductory lectures together. I did just that, and I’m still friends with those people today. It’s likely that the person you message feels the same way as you and will appreciate someone reaching out.

words by: Amy Booth

Friendship, despite the corniness of it, is arguably one of, if not the most, important thing that comes out of the university experience. However, (like all things) as adulting becomes the new norm it gets harder.

Postgraduate meant distance was now added into the equation, and not only that, but we were also suddenly on completely different life paths too—in a way that for most of us was brand new.

When we go to school, we share time and space in common. Friendship is easy. At university, keeping your home friends while you go to university is a challenge. Postgraduate is even harder. Friendships become these long catchups, filling each other in on plotlines that suddenly you’re not a part of anymore, and the dynamics… change. I thought this change was something to be scared of. And I was.

However, I have found that this period has made me treasure friendship in a way I hadn’t before. It has made me realise that friendship, like any other major relationship, requires work! But putting in effort is what has made the friendships at postgraduate even more special. Carving spaces into our busy new lives to spend time with each other is a small declaration of friendship. Every and each effort is noticed and appreciated—because it is hard. It is what makes these friendships beyond special.

words by: Emilia Davis design by: Eszter Gurbicz

NEW UNI, NEW ME

words by: Amelia Wollacott

design by: Eszter Gurbicz

Moving to another university after an undergraduate degree can be scary but also exciting. For me, after completing my degree at University of Plymouth I wanted to have a chance to move to a different city for my master’s degree. My hometown is just outside of Exeter in Devon, so being in Plymouth (which is only an hour’s drive away) was a great starting point for me in moving away from home. I have always been quite a nervous person, so moving even an hour away was a massive deal for 18-yearold Amelia. I made some of my best friends during my undergraduate degree, so having to leave them and all of us going our separate ways to start careers and other degrees is still something I am adjusting to. But that is another story for another day.

I have always loved the city of Cardiff. Enriched with heritage, great nightlife and a friendly atmosphere, I knew that it would be an amazing place to study my master’s in. I really wanted to boost my confidence by moving even further away from home. Despite having family in Anglesey and Pembrokeshire (meaning I have always spent a lot of time in Wales), Cardiff immediately felt like home. Understandably, I was nervous when it came to meeting new friends and people. One of the first things I did was try and get a parttime job. Thankfully, I managed to secure myself a job and I have made so many friends through my work. Another way that I got to know people was joining a Facebook group for other people who are new to the area. One of my really good friends who I met in the group is an au pair from Austria and we regularly meet for lunch, coffee, and even go to the gym together. I’ve found that by moving to a new place I have pushed myself in ways I never thought I could before. I also have a very close relationship with some of my course mates, regularly meeting up to study together and doing things outside the course too has been a great confidence boost for me. Through having a close relationship with the people on my course, I think all of us can say that we have helped each other understand the course more - it can be scary going in on your own not knowing what to expect. I’d forgotten what that feels like from the first year of undergrad, but I can assure anyone thinking of doing another degree that nervous feelings will come back no matter how much you try to avoid it!

I feel like my new sense of ‘family’ in Cardiff comes from my friendships I have made since being here. I tried my best to step out of my comfort zone and have luckily met some of my closest friends in doing so. Having that feeling of home around your friends is always something I love.

I asked a few people I know what reminds them of family...

here’s what they came up with!

illustrations by: Elinor Pyman

photography by: Isla McCormack

As we celebrate Quench’s 20th anniversary this year, it seems like the ideal time to emphasise the value of teamwork and camaraderie inside our own publication. It is also my third and final year of undergraduate study, making this a most memorable year in Quench for me! This is significant since I have been a member of the magazine team since my first year of university, and I can definitely say that I have learned a lot from everyone I’ve worked with. Working with other like-minded, bright, and creative people has been really beneficial to me during my time as a student, making my university experience the best it can be!

Throughout the academic year, our team has encountered numerous unexpected challenges, such as financial issues, printing deadlines, and the complete shutdown of our website! While it was difficult at times to continue working on our publications, seeing the team’s passionate faces and fresh ideas at each pitch meeting made it all worthwhile. It’s encouraging to see our print magazines being read all around the city.

We were honoured to be shortlisted for the National Student Publication Association Awards, which made this year even better. I was happy to be able to attend alongside our Editor-in-Chief Alanya, Deputy Lucia, and Spotlight Editor Laura. We enjoyed a productive day in the heart of Bristol, attending multiple conferences and hearing from amazing professionals. Then, as the evening approached, we dressed up in our finest attire, preparing to attend the award ceremony with various student publications from across the country!

Our Quench Family

Our Head of Design, Mia Wilson discusses the highlights of the year...

Hearing Quench declared as the winner of not one, but two separate awards was the highlight of my year, proving that all of our hard work and late nights in the media office had paid off. We couldn’t stop smiling in our uber ride back to Cardiff, not only because of the prizes, but also because there might have been an open bar...

As this academic year of Quench comes to an end and our designs are ready to be submitted to print for our final physical release, I felt it would be appropriate to pay tribute to what we have accomplished not as a team, but as one huge creative family!

words & design by: Mia Wilson

Tan tro nesaf.