MT15 Wk 7 Ed.2
LIP DOI LY
FLAVOUR SAVER E I K O CO R E T DUS
SNOT MOP UPPER LIPHOLSTERY LIP E G A I L FO
E T O N A M O S FR R O T I D E E TH Ciao Pembroke!
We hope you enjoyed the first issue enough that it’s inspired you to pick up this one! We’re so happy with how PT has been received but we really do want all of your criticisms and comments to make sure we make the mag as perfect as can be. Get submitting too, drop either one of us a message and we can definitely help your idea take shape! We’ve spoken to a number of people for this issue including a whole host of Pembroke alumni at a drinks reception at the Oxo tower in London (it’s a hard life) although one of us did ask someone to speak to us for the Pembromance feature on page 12 only to find out he’d broken up with his Pembroke girlfriend at the weekend - awkward! We’ve got year abroad features from both Jordan and Paris and a big spread on the Pembroke Movember effort (it’s the thought that counts - looking at you Gibbs). There’s a whole host of other stuff so get reading and bear in mind this was put together with intermittent chundering from one of us so things might look a bit shaky in places. Chillie love xoxoxox (Millie McLuskie and Charlotte Lanning)
CONTENTS: Glamour Grad Are You Fluent Yet? A Pembrokian account of the Paris attacks Charitable Chaps Top of the Bops Meet the Movember Boys Pembroke Talks Feminism Sports Reports Quiz - which club are you? An Ode to my Moustache Pembromance cover image: Beatrice Egid
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GLAMOUR GRAD
Fresh out of Pembroke, ex-PPE student Pravina Rudra tells us all about her work experience doing the rounds at various glossy magazines. The boardroom (which looks slightly more welcoming than Lord Sugar's) and Prav's desk at Cosmo
Why the glossies?
to Cosmo, Glamour and Style.
Women’s magazines get a bad rep. I’m well
next couple of months, I received offers to
Over the
Working in glossies can be glamorous. Yes,
aware of that, and I can’t claim to be
work with Cosmo and Style – and after
sometimes you hear your colleagues
personally fascinated by every feature they
interviewing with Glamour later that year, an
chatting about whatever celebrity they met
run, or agree with every single aspect of
offer with them too.
last night, and you’re working for a
them. But magazines influence what society
Confidence
company that celebrities, fashion and
think, and to disregard them would be
I personally think that women in particular
beauty brands die to be featured in, with the
leaving out a major game-player. They do
are afraid of being perceived as cocky - but
result of the occasional freebie. The
good things. The ones I worked with no
there is nothing arrogant about stating why
highlight of my work was having writing
longer explicitly promote “thinness”, and are
you are the best person to do something, if
published by the magazines I’ve worked
very hot on promoting the importance of
you really think you are. Many would not
with, and I will be interviewing some
consent.
They also run some really
ordinarily think of sending in pitches or their
Olympic champions over the next few
important campaigns - take Glamour’s “Say
writing to magazines, but it is largely as a
weeks. Once I went to an event
No to Sexism in Sport” campaign, for
result of sending in my piece to Cosmo that
independent of work and spoke to Sophie
example. Helen Gurley Brown (the original
I got published by them, and had that key
Kinsella (chick-lit queen and interestingly an
founder of Cosmopolitan) is credited with
point on my CV.
Oxford PPE graduate), who told me I had
driving forward the idea that a woman
Friendliness
her dream job.
should be able to thrive as a single girl, and
Networking often has all kind of horrible
BUT, this is all so unimportant compared to
not be financially dependent on a man.
connotations, but what it boils down to –
the day-to-day; life in journalism is a tough
Writing
being friendly and finding way to help each
grind – whether you’re an intern or at a
It was by accident that I ended up with a
other, is one of the best human qualities, (as
higher level. You have to love what you do:
good writing record. I didn’t previously
well as a useful one). Originally I hadn’t
the research, the writing, the annoying
write for the sake of entertainment; I had
heard back about my applications to the
admin, all to make the rate of pay worth it.
written some award-winning economics and
magazines I’m currently working at, but by
A significant proportion of my jobs were
political articles when I was at school. These
phoning up the contacts I had at the
unglamorous; sorting post and transcribing
experiences, nonetheless, helped me
magazines to follow up on them, they
– which every journalist does at some point.
develop my writing skills. It was by doing a
looked at my record and invited me to
That said, even the dullest of jobs can
one-off article for a Pembroke magazine a
intern with them. By striking up
provide an insight into the magazine – by
couple of years ago, that I realized that
conversations with colleagues whilst in the
filing you see every draft and how the
writing was something that absorbed me.
kitchen, offering to bring my seniors tea
magazine is put together.
In terms of my record, I don’t write
and talking to them about work they had
The future
particularly often, but I make sure that most
had published, I got more insights and
I would love to continue writing in the
things I write are good (this may be an
perhaps will have more opportunities in the
future. My hope is that I can have more
exception – it’s currently 3 a.m.). I wouldn’t
future.
opportunities to have my work published,
recommend being a perfectionist in life –
Devil Wears Prada
and perhaps that I will write more about
but with writing: yes. The first draft is a
The big question is whether I felt like Andy
wider social or political issues (putting my
million miles from the published piece.
The Intern. In short, no. Of course, many
degree to use), perhaps with some different
I realised I liked writing “lifestyle” pieces
people are particularly “cool” (whatever that
publications. However, I am perhaps rather
with what I thought was a “unique” insight,
means), and have a great fashion sense, but
ambitiously hoping my future will lead to
and thought such magazines would be an
pretty much without exception they are also
me doing something in business/politics (no,
interesting (perhaps unconventional) place
quite friendly. The conversations in the
not synonymous) – so freelance writing
to have my work published, and therefore
office were great – seeing as so many
would be my dream.
perhaps be of even more benefit to the
British women turn to these people for their
Follow me on Twitter @pravinaofficial
reader.
However, I also like the occasional
chat and advice on everything from sex to
frivolous Carrie Bradshaw-like musings
love, this was unsurprising. Highlights were
about love and friendship, which was a
frequent discussion about what to look for
natural fit with the glossies.
I was also
in a man (hint: personality is quite the
adamant that I would take a gap year to do
winner), the seeming permissibility of
something a bit out of the ordinary, and,
talking about one night stands in front of
having had an interest in fashion when I was
your boss (or indeed the whole office, it’s
younger, (and I admit, a slight fascination to
open plan after all).
see the what “every girl’s dream job” was really like), I sent off cover letters and CVs
The Glamour
No. 1 networking spot - the kitchen and new best mate Jimmy Carr
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ARE YOU FLUENT YET? This edition's news from abroad comes from Jordan, where Victoria Warner tells us of the trials of having a somewhat inferior grasp of the native language... It would be an understatement to say that the average Jordanian would find our Oxford group an odd bunch. We consist of five boys and a girl (a faux pas regarding group accommodation) and names which translate into Arabic as Penguin (Patrick), and Fuckolas (Nicholas - think of the French ‘nique la police’). Yet, with Oxford’s dreaming spires gone and multiple minarets in their place, ( ك" " " " " "ل ش" " " " " "يء ت" " " " " "مامall is
consumed 200GB of internet in 20 days. We resorted to camping out until the end of the month in our local free Wi-Fi café, tactically ordering the 3 dinar free-refill coffee. This worked well, until we overstayed our welcome and Paddy was told, very apologetically with regards to his 7th refill: “Er… no.”
well). Compared with Amman, Oxford is tiny and flat. Commuting daily to classes means generally hilarious if not sometimes slightly frustrating interactions with Amman’s taxi drivers. Our fledgling grasp of the subtleties of Ammiyya (colloquial dialect) has resulted in a few misunderstandings: rather than rebuffing prying personal questions with ‘Where are you coming from?’ (equivalent to, ‘it’s none of your business’) we asked, ‘what is your income?’. We’ve also had a bit of tricky time understanding verb conjugations - “Are you am I joking?” Anyway, if there is a problem with the meter, arguing in Arabic still counts as language practice. Pembroke College nightlife revolves around, let's be honest here, Parkend. Or, more specifically, the Parkend cheese floor. We have yet to endure a Jordanian club, partly for fear of school disco playlists circa 2007, and partly because we were somewhat indisposed post Tequila Tuesdays at a local bar... Yet what we lack in an RnB floor we make up for in roof space, the location of our notorious Hiflats ( ح " " " " "فلةArabic for party), where we welcomed in 1437 in style (by style I mean with bacon and alcohol, a very Islamic new year). Jordanian alcohol import tax is based on volume rather than percentage strength, meaning it is more economical to drink vodka than beer, ever the savvy students! . Post-Parkend late night run ins with porters are awkward at best, but our love for them
has only increased when we contrast them to our Jordanian landlord, who didn’t seem too concerned by the shortage of working light bulbs, the lack of functioning loos, and indeed no apparent address. The Pembroke College community has been replaced by an evangelical American living downstairs – here on God’s calling – and a group of children living next door who draw curious, convulsed, chalk caricatures outside our door. We have, however, found a scout-likealways-there-for-a-chat-matriarchal-figure in Khulood, our local café owner. The only time Khulood has let us down, ever so slightly, was when she served us a winter warming drink containing cinnamon, coconut, cocoa and a white starchy base. Sounds delicious right? It resembled, in texture, temperature and aesthetics… a certain erm… bodily fluid.
sometimes it rains here too
Kevin Dudley has been replaced by head chefs Oscar and me, with Paddy assuming the role of sous-chef. Pembroke Hall has converted to the six of us sat on the floor in the no-mans-landing between rooms for dinner, no table, one fork. Gone are the carb-overload, rower orientated meals, in their place a chickpea based diet: hummus, fateh and sabah (both variations on hummus) and falafels. One comical culinary experience in Ramallah consisted of ordering what appeared to be local cuisine; it turned out to be a chicken nugget. Its was easy to take the unlimited Pembroke Wi-Fi and Eduroam for granted, until we
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You wouldn’t be alone in thinking that central heating isn’t an issue in Amman, we thought the same. While I delighted last year in ridiculing Staircase 12’s enormous box shaped radiators with their 2 settings: hot air flowing up or hot air flowing down, they are a luxury compared to our single electric heater. As it turns colder, this solitary heater now faces the colossal task of heating 6 large tiled bedrooms on 2 floors. The ease of paying battles bills is revealed with our monthly indecipherable electricity bills stuck to our door – we remain clueless as to what we are meant to do with them! In coming to Amman I thought I would be escaping the early mornings for rowing. However, the Muezzin has replaced the role of Eddie (Eddie) Rolls. It is becoming increasingly hard to restrain from coxing fellow gym members on the rowing machines – but I have yet to translate my coxing lingo into Arabic. I don’t think literal translations of some my calls – crispy, lush, bake it boys! – would work here. In contrast to the many changes and adjustments, my dislike (to put it lightly) of Israeli governmental policies is not a problem here; Israel has been referred to as the Occupied Territory on the radio. Somewhat more surprisingly, Free the Nipple continues in Amman’s Hammams (Turkish Baths), already a freed-nipple zone. I suppose some things will never change, Alhamdulillah.
when the plumber comes to call
images: Nick Trapp
A Pembrokian account of the Paris attacks With so many Pembrokians scattered across the globe as part of their studies in potentially dangerous places we thought it was important to bring you an insight from one of our French students currently living in Paris. Former JCR Vice-President and third year English and French student Chesney Ovsiowitz tells us about his experience on the 13th of November. Yesterday was the first day that I’ve slept in without earplugs. A luxury, were it not for the fact that the silence of the usually deafening streets beneath my window reeks of fear. On Friday night my parents took me out for dinner for my 21st birthday in Oberkampf, Paris’s hub of late-night dinners and early morning drinks. Our chosen restaurant was full, so we decided to walk towards a different area. A block later, I point to a door (‘My friend James lives in that block’) but our view is obscured by five men running down the street, drinks in hands. Seconds later, a succession of loud bangs drew out for a good few minutes, a background noise that we soon forgot about as we strolled on. We looked at a menu in the window of a restaurant, only to refocus our eyes through the glass and notice that everyone inside was staring in the same direction across the street. The bangs began again, and we saw crowds of people running towards us from where everyone had been looking. On the corner opposite us a woman was slumped on the floor, a man trying to lift her into a taxi. We walked on in search of dinner, dismissing these events as drunkenness on a warm Friday night. We sit in a bar and wait for my housemate to come and meet us. She’s late and calls me. ‘Chesney where are you?’ she says slowly, in a voice so cautious it was theatrical. ‘Waiting for you at the bar’. ‘I don’t want to scaremonger but you need to come home there have been shootings in the 10th and there’s been an explosion near you’. I look at my parents and laugh, but behind them is a woman crying on the phone and down the street people are running towards us again and my dad looks at his phone - ‘terrorism in paris r u ok’ - a WhatsApp from a cousin in South Africa reads and we run for a cab home and listen to the radio whilst my mum finds the time to muse on how amazing it is that people in Africa could warn us about danger a block away isn’t technology incredible! and we hear about a bomb threat closer to my flat and where the f**k is James who lives in that block why aren’t texts going through – I sat in the flat with Katty watching the news and making sure everyone we know was fine until 3am. Tinder matches even checking in on us. Yesterday we didn’t leave the flat because the only traffic we could hear were ambulances and helicopters. But today we walked through the streets, my parents and two friends and me, to try to regain some sense of normality. We went into a church because we heard the organ being played. Almost half the seats were occupied, by people who had come alone. Very few faced the front; most sat sideways and stared at the floor or looked at their hands. The parks are closed as are most shops, but otherwise it feels fine. We start to feel better. My parents go back to London in the evening. I’m watching Dance Moms on Netflix US because I’ve exhausted everything else worth watching this weekend when Katty comes in to my room. ‘France just bombed an ISIS training camp and look at Fabien’s status’. I am thrown back into fear and uncertainty. Paris becomes a target again, and where before I knew no one affected by the attacks, a French friend announces on Facebook that a close friend of his passed away from her injuries in hospital. Ten months ago I sat at the table at a birthday party and promised my friends that I’d be safe in Paris. Besides, I’m not even kosher so definitely won’t have to go to any kosher supermarkets and no one will know that I’m Jewish. But now what? Now what when every bar, restaurant, café, shop, theatre, cinema, lecture hall, park, and museum is a potential target? How much longer until we will feel safe outside the 41 square metres of our flat again? How much faith can we put in the forces and governments that promise us safety and security?
CHARITABLE CHAPS
Fresher Sophie Burdge (along with three Pemb friends) raised over £400 in their RAG lost attempt which saw the two teams secure 4th and 5th place out of more than 50 pairs of competitors. The campaign raises money for Student Minds, Jacari, The Anti Malaria Foundation and Oxford Rape and Sexual Abuse Centre.
Following a somewhat misguided fit of freshers’ enthusiasm which led my three friends and I to sign up for the rather dubious sounding RAG Lost, last Saturday I found myself miserably boarding a blacked out bus, at half five in the morning, while dressed as an elf. Lost itself is a charity hitchhike organised by OUSU, in which a a host of participants are driven to a mystery location, and then challenged to find their way back to Oxford in 24 hours without spending a penny. And so it was for this reason that the unsuspecting residents of South Wales were subjected to a posse of onesie clad Oxford students, wandering aimlessly around the beautiful Rhossili Beach as they desperately searched for some kind soul to offer them a lift. The four participants from Pembroke - Jack Murphy, Vicky Robinson, Ben Lavelle and I - were all distinctly unsuccessful in this regard… At least for the first few hours. After God knows how many miles of trekking along the only road from Rhossili to Swansea, our two teams were finally picked up in quick succession. After that the competition really kicked in, as the two Pembroke teams set off in different vehicles, each equally determined to make it back before the other. Ben and I had seven lifts in total, varying hugely from an elderly organist, to a children's’ TV producer (Rastamouse anyone?), to a guy who proudly relayed how he hitchhiked around Europe following bands in the 80s. I think my personal highlight had to be the family mini van, complete with in-transit nappy changes. What was surprising was the number of people who were keen to pick us up; once we got off country roads and into the outskirts of towns we had no problem at all getting lifts. Everyone who picked us up told us how they too had hitchhiked at some point in their life, and expressed sadness that it was no longer common practice. One couple told us a particularly touching story, of how he used to hitchhike from London to Liverpool every weekend to see his wife, then girlfriend, while she was at university. Overall it was definitely an enjoyable and surprisingly exciting experience, not least because of the last minute race to the finish line to beat our fellow Pembroke competitors! Remarkably, out of over 50 teams, the Pembroke contingent managed to arrive back within five minutes of each other, securing fourth and fifth place. So despite a few hairy moments and an unprecedented amount of running, Lost was definitely one of the most enjoyable experiences I’ve had since arriving at Oxford, and all to raise money for some great causes!
A well deserved pint
5
"take a picture of me looking windswept"
2
1
"an iced flannel would be ideal"
Alba & Lenka out on the raz
3 Oh, Conor you're everywhere got a bogey?!
stellar PMB line-up
DJ PREZ feat. tache
is that Adele again?
MEET THE MOVEMBER BOYS Despite Movember being an opportunity to make fun of friends’ poorlygrown moustaches, there is a more sombre meaning behind the campaign. Movember is to raise awareness of prostate and testicular cancer, as well as men’s health more generally. Prostate cancer is the third most common cancer in the UK, while testicular cancer is more prevalent in younger men. So far, Pembroke's Movember boys have raised a collective total of £153
Dom Saad 1. I can stroke it so it looks like I'm thinking intently in tutes 2. It's a constant reminder that I can't grow facial hair 3. Pablo Escobar 4. I like to keep my tache au naturel
Tom Gibbs 1. The drastic increase in sex appeal 2. It grows so slowly, I just look incapable of shaving properly 3. Tom Selleck - I can dream 4. Lol
Pascal Foster 1. I no longer have to wear fake moustaches for bops (and can play with it while I'm thinking) 2. Very warm upper lip 3. Barry Chuckle meets Ian Rush 4. With a cut throat razor
Sam Savory 1. Makes me look manly 2. Makes me look terrible 3. Max from Cabaret has a pretty swanky tache 4. I make sure to shave the rest of my face everday to make the tache look better...
We asked our Movember boys a few things about their moustaches: 1. What's your favourite thing about having a moustache? 2. What's your least favourite thing? 3. Who is your moustache idol? 4. How do you trim that tache?
Joseph McShane 1. If conversation gets really sticky, it's a good avenue of chat 2. The way it looks 3. Borat 4. Bayliss Titanium stubble trimmer with 10 detachable function heads
Charles McGrath 1. Waiting patiently for it to grow... 2. Its painfully slow growth! 3. Joseph Stalin 4. With difficulty as it's not really long enough!
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PEMBROKE TALKS FEMINISM It would be odd to have a Pembroke publication that at some point didn't feature our very own feminist society, Peminists! So for this edition, we've collated some feminism-related viewpoints from across college. What is it?
A male perspective
Feminism is the movement that calls for the social, financial and political equality of all genders.
For me, feminism is a more than appropriate place to talk about
Some people trace feminism’s roots back to the poetess Sappho in Ancient Greece but the 18th Century authors Olympes de Gouge and Mary Wollstonecraft are often hailed as the foremothers of the modern, Western movement. Three ‘waves’ are currently identified within its history.
expectations we place on people for their gender. When men’s rights
The ‘First Wave’ refers to activity during the 19th and early 20th centuries which focussed on extending the opportunities given to women, especially in terms of extending the vote, with Suffragists and Suffragettes leading the fight. The ‘Second Wave’ was born in the 60s and continued roughly until the early 90s: it was a wave that was seen as increasingly radical but started with Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique which argued for greater employment opportunities for mostly middle-class, white women. It’s this wave that people refer to when talking of feminists burning bras - which never actually happened, though bras were thrown in protests against beauty pageants! It’s also the period that introduced the differentiation of sex as a biological fact and gender as a social construct, though the movement was split by the ‘Sex Wars’ which saw huge rifts between anti-pornography and sexpositive factions, and many now criticise elements of the Second Wave for being transphobic in their exclusion of transwomen. The Third Wave was in part informed by post-colonial thought and seeks to demolish a lot of social constructs such as gender, heteronormativity, cisnormativity and ‘toxic masculinity’. One element is an attempt at “intersectionality”, that is that feminism should seek to fight for all our overlapping identities: when an LGBTQIA woman walks into a feminist space, she doesn’t leave her queer identity at the door, and so any activism cannot speak solely of the experience of womanhood but must consider how all forms of oppression intersect. Ronni Blackford
Let’s give as good as we get I count myself as pretty staunchly feminist. But sometimes I find it irksome when girls and women complain when a person of the opposite sex serves them a compliment. I don’t wish to be reduced to my appearance in any way, but for those with the ability of sight, appearance will always be something that our brain processes. Yet women get tetchy when a guy enters into a bit of flirtatious banter, probably involving some sort of ‘you’re hot’ compliment. Sometimes they get it right, sometimes they don’t. But isn’t it actually quite nice for someone to say, ‘yeh, that time you spent in front of the mirror this morning - it was worth it!’ I reckon it’s the one-way manner of this badinage that irritates us. It’s the context of misogyny that makes women feel vulnerable, not the actual flirtation. There’s a culture of some men thinking they can get away with taking it further (which can get unpleasant) and a culture of women thinking they have to be indignant in response. So let’s make it a two way thing. Let’s ‘flirt like men do’. Let’s have playful, harmless, coquettish banter with whoever we want. Because that, girls, is equality. 8
Millie McLuskie
men’s issues. Feminism is dedicated to removing the societal campaigners talk about the objectification of men and issues regarding masculinity, they always seem unwilling to listen to how feminism is working towards the same goal. Men are born into a society that favours them. Our society expects men to provide for their family, to be emotionally stable, to have ‘masculine’ interests. Feminism is working towards shedding all of these constraints. However, it is working to do that through empowering women. There is a burden of expectation placed on men, but they still hold the power. What men’s rights activists want is for someone to look at men’s issues. It does not cross their mind that they can be solved by finally paying attention to feminism. Christian Hill
Why I'm not a feminist If ever I feel the urge to spark a contentious debate, I bring up feminism. Not simply because such political topics often induce emotive responses, but because my view often meets curiosity at best and acrimony at worst. I am not a feminist. Yes, I am aware that I would not be writing this article and studying at Oxford University had feminism not had such a powerfully positive impact, and yes, to the feminists of history I owe my autonomy and unadulterated respect. Nevertheless, feminism: I object. My biggest issues with contemporary feminism are that it can construct rigid gender barriers where the distinction may be more arbitrary, and neglect minority groups which fall on the wrong side of the gender divide. What of homosexuals who in some religious denominations are unable to marry? What of transgender people who are battling for rights, too many of whom contending with misogynistic abuse at the hands of TERFS and other intolerant individuals? Modern society is a menagerie; all voices should be represented in the fight feminists began. I believe that going forward, we should distill feminist ideas to find in the sediment its true value: equality. In order for equal status for all individuals on the gender spectrum to be attained I believe we should remove the presuppositions of the past and set a positive precedent for the future: a future where the female gender alone is not at the fore of the battle for equality. In order to reacquire the values of feminism we need to engage in ostranenie, that is, the artistic technique of defamiliarization in order that the subject be known anew and more deeply as a result. No longer is it necessary to hurl ourselves under the king’s horse and die for our voices to be heard; no longer must we endure force-feeding and famine for feminine values to be appreciated. Now, in this time of beautiful variety, we must be open; adaptable; unstoppable. Emily Qureshi-Hurst image: Ronni Blackford
“This Phantom Army of Female Gamers” In December 2014 an irritable gamer, ‘Gary W’ commented on an article about Grand Theft Auto in The Guardian, claiming that “it appears that we have a bunch of feminists creating a lot of noise on the Internet but not actually interested in games at all…” It is clearly a little known fact, then, that 52% of the worldwide gaming community is made up of women. Yet of those who are responsible for creating the games, 85% are male. Can women be fairly represented in the gaming industry if they are not proportionately represented in terms of creators or lead female characters? In an industry filled with ‘weak’ and vulnerable female characters, who are rarely cast in the leading roles of game-narratives, the obvious answer would be “No”. But are we forgetting characters such as Lara Croft in Tomb Raider? This particular, arguably groundbreaking, example seemed to oppose the usual female role of “victim, seductress, or evil villainess”, presenting a character with independence, strength and intelligence. Tomb Raider’s creator Toby Gard intended to “keep her realistic in build and level headed in nature”, yet a fateful accident in design (increasing Croft’s breast size by 150%), meant that this ‘revolutionary’ character was instead reduced to a sex-symbol, and a top-scoring name on a list of “hottest video games characters” in GameDaily 2008. Lara Croft, as a “strong female character” could not escape this kind of objectification and aesthetic judgement, rarely applied to male characters, and became simply an embodiment of male fantasy. Despite there being two female creative forces behind the successful recent improvement of Tomb Raider - Susan O’Connor and Rhianna Pratchett - it is evident that games are still designed and intended for a male consumer. The general consensus among Pembroke’s Peminists, was that more women are needed in the industry to try to change the current situation and combat such sexism… We wouldn't quite put it in the terms used by irritated gamer ‘LordWickhammersley’:
image: Beth Kume-Holland
In the words of Kit-Kat, we all need to take a break sometimes. Self-care is a vital part of our wellbeing, especially when our lives pretty much consist of essay deadlines, worksheet deadlines, tutes, labs, more tutes, lectures, hours in the library. I could go on... In the midst of 5th week blues, Pembroke hosted a self-care workshop with pink and glitter galore. Which is why Pembroke is the best college ever.
“If women gamers want games with female characters who aren't just shallow eye candy for male gamers then they should stop playing the games and get out there and develop some games themselves…” But we would like to see more games for women, made by women, supported and played by women, in an industry that is currently failing to provide for a consumer pool which is increasingly made up of women. Meris Ryan-Goff
s.
ry' , be it cuddle insbu o a t S g a in r h met es. shion, o e? Find so ooki g urry cu f in r C a mor u , o t c e y s v a u t s d s e r g I you ! ( I su g ...Talk Need reature s in r in e g lk a furry c of wh og w ich, w r un a r dom d alk or w.)... o u nd o for ran d a e m t h h e c r m u h e c t a dow. Chris
Boogy - you don't need to be boozy or in ParkEnd - just put on that playlist!
Yog a
image: Immie Hobby
Hot Chocolate + Netflix = 'me time'
image: Sophie Dowle
Sleep. And then sleep a bit more
- lon easy g or sho , it's com bliss rt, hard petit or fully iv gonn e so you non're a a be lway ama s zeba lls.
image: Tash Fairweather
We've got together some pictures of people's self-care masterpieces (look how arty we are), a smashing playlist thanks to Ronni Blackford (aptly named 'Grrl Pwrr'), and some self-care ideas for your perusal.
Grrl Pw rr Man! I Fe el Woman! Like A – Shania Twain Raise Yo ur Glass – Pink Run the W orld (Gir Beyoncé ls) – Dance Ap o Janelle M calyptic – onáe Dog Day s A Florence + re Over – the Mach ine Let Go fo r Tonigh t – Foxes Chandel ier – Sia I Love It – I (feat. Cha cona Pop rli XCX) Warpath – Ingrid Michaels on Bulletpr oof – La R oux 9
LACROSSE
SPORTS REPORTS
On paper it might seem that Pembroke’s lacrosse season has got off to a disheartening start, with the team suffering consecutive defeats against Christ Church and New College. But let me put this in context: Christ Church have a team consisting of so many university lacrosse players that they’ve justified buying two lacrosse goals at £300 each, whilst New College marched on to the pitch dressed in full kit, the possession of which is practically unheard of in the humble world of mixed lacrosse cuppers. Pembroke has more of a shabby-chique, happy-go-lucky look going, both when it comes to equipment and playing style. Much of the team is made up by novices whose unfailing enthusiasm is fantastic to see. The team has demonstrated an array of improvised skills over the course of the league – from Tom Gibbs’ balletic twirl dodge (sadly unsuccessful but highly amusing), to rugby tackles, to hockey-style shovelling, and occasionally a bit of actual lacrosse in between. I can offer no promises of magnificent scorelines, but I can promise one of the most entertaining sidelines from which to watch a sports match. If you’re in need of some procrastination then come along to watch the mighty PMB put on our weekly spectacle on a Sunday afternoon. Hannah Congdon
FOOTBALL
Having being born on the day he is celebrated (October 4th), St Francis of Assisi has always been a special figure in history for me. One of his inspirational teachings reads as follows: “Start by doing what is necessary; then do what’s possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.” Sound advice in any walk of life, and sound advice that has been taken on by PCFC. With the Cuppers campaign yet to get underway (first round fixture v Queens to be played on Monday of 7th) attentions have turned to the league campaign. The club has started by achieving the necessary. After promotion last year it was a necessity we didn’t drop straight back down and instead retain our place in the highly competitive second tier of JCR football. Top of the table with 3 wins from 3, this already looks to have been achieved. Such a fast start to the season has brought about talk of the possible - back to back promotion. As St Francis prophesied once you set about achieving the possible, as PCFC are doing, then the impossible suddenly begins to be achieved. As we enter late November the 100% record is still intact... the seemingly impossible dream lives on. Jack Harrison
POOL Our second match of the season arrived on a cold Wednesday night in 4th week - the Pembroke 1sts made their way to the northern wasteland that is St Anne's. After a disappointing start to the season with a close loss to Somerville, this was crunch time - another loss here and finishing top of the league would be beyond us. Despite going 3-0 up, Pembroke let the lead slip away and St Anne's pulled it back to 3-3. After two more close games, new addition George dragged us over the line for a close win of 5-4. Our dreams were still on, but there was another tough game on the horizon: local rivals Christ Church. After a 7-1 defeat to them in Cuppers last year, this wasn't just a league game - there was pride on the line. Pembroke sprinted out of the blocks, going 6-0 up before ChCh knew what had hit them. Final score 7-2. The road to promotion continues. Tom Gibbs
BRIDGE The beer is flowing. Questionable fashion sense from many. Some couples are on exactly the same wavelength, while others, frankly, are a mess. And playing cards everywhere? It’s Monday night Bridge…but not as you know it. Every Monday evening of term, the University’s best and brightest card players converge on Oxford’s Maths faculty to engage in one of the most difficult and fascinating games in the world - Bridge. The English Bridge Union was recently rocked by the High Court’s ruling that Bridge is not a sport, but to any of the 300,000 regular players in Britain alone, there is no doubt that the game will remain up alongside chess at the top of the “pure strategy” genre of gaming. Bridge is played in teams of two, with one team playing North-South across the table, the others playing East-West, and the deck is split among the four players. The game, 10
like Whist, focuses on a series of “tricks”, where each player plays a card and the highest card/trump wins. Pairs first battle to settle a contract to play (such as “winning 10/13 tricks with Spades as the trump suit” or “winning 8/13 tricks with no trump suit”), and hereafter, the pair winning this bidding process merely attempt to satisfy the contract while their opponents must stop them. How hard can it be? As it turns out, very hard. Pairs are not allowed to communicate verbally during the bidding process, so must communicate the strength and shape of their hand by the manner in which they bid, known as a language, of which there are many (ACOL, American Standard and Canapé to name but three). This makes it quite difficult to gauge exactly what might be the correct contract to play, and even if you end up at the right place, actually winning the tricks is another matter. A round of Bridge can be played millions of different ways, with often only a handful of orders which will see you meet
your contract. This, it seems, is the draw of the game; Bridge, like any other great pastime, is simple to pick up, but nearly impossible to master. I urge anyone interested in the game to visit the Maths faculty on Thursday evenings, where the university club are running introductory lessons, and hopefully you can make it down to the Monday evening tournaments within a couple of weeks. Who knows, you might even earn a half-blue if you’re good enough! Alex Wood & Duncan Thomas
image: Creative Commons
QUIZ: WHICH CLUB ARE YOU?
An Ode to my Moustache by Pascal Foster
Where do you find I’ve become strangely at-tache-d to my moustache. What started off as a little bit of your Top 10? sporadic A. Cheese, Charts and Grime, upper-lip I like a bit of everything fluff B. The Mighty McShane has grown into a full-on Megamix living, C. Keeping it classy on the breathing, Barry Chuckle-esque What's your roof, an eclectic mix of beast. drinks budget? concertos and traffic A. £10-20 D. waabwaabwaabb B. Free shots, duh He’s become a part of my soul. C. Put it on Daddy's card As I brush my teeth D. Water's free, right? in the morning What's your What’s your morning and before going to bed, ideal holiday after routine? I look in the mirror destination? A. trying to remember last night's to find A. Marbella, obvs him exploits over a Farthing's fry-up B. Close to home - Dorset staring back at B. Pealing off facepaint, rushing to a this time? me. lecture He’s been there the whole time: C. The Maldives, darling C. Cooling facial and brunch school D. It's South East Asia this reunion summer D. Emptying chunder out of Tuesday nights, when essay crisis hits me hard; your bucket hat.
What's your coat of choice for a night out? A. Big and denim for the smoking area B. I never go far enough to need a coat, and I wouldn't want to spoil my Bop aesthetic C. Fur, darling D. 90's windbreaker
MOSTLY A'S, you are Bridge
MOSTLY B'S, you are Camera
A classic Oxford student, you’re not very original, you probably started smoking purely so you could legitimately enjoy the best part of bridge.
A Pembroke lover through and through you’re too lazy to go anywhere else and why would you bother when the delights of Camera (sorry, Emporium) await just two minutes away.
MOSTLY C's, you are The Varsity Club You’re suave and classy and bleeding the bank of mum and dad dry as a result. (Your friends are just milking you for the instagram pics you help them get. *cough* hacks *cough*)
Friday mornings, when the hangover’s just too much to handle; Saturday afternoons, when Sunderland have just been hammered at home again – He’s always been there to pick me up, never more than a sniff away.
In the past, during the other eleven months of the year, he would appear from time to time on those lazy-stubble days, but these chance greetings were fleeting – for come the following morning the razor would put an end to what might’ve been a budding friendship. I just wasn’t ready for the commitment.
MOSTLY D'S, you are The Bullingdon You’re soooo edgy I’m surprised you’ve even done this quiz, thought you’d be reading the Isis instead.
Before Movember, we were merely acquaintances – but, over the past month, we’ve become best buds and raised a bit of cash for a good cause too. He’s no Michel Johnson, no Freddie Mercury no Salvador Dalí. But he knows everything about me and I know everything about him. Until next year then, old friend. 11
Pembromance Mike & Hilary Wagstaff
You know the ones - from a cheeky snog in freshers week to being inseparable by the time Christmas rolls around. We caught up with some Pembroke couples from the 80s who show that you don't need to look outside of college walls to find a spouse.
"We met in my first year at Pembroke (1981) and in fact I saw Mike on my first day at Pembroke unloading his belongings from his Mum’s Ford Capri, a retro classic car now! We started going out in May 1982 after having been being great friends for many months. That was over 33 years ago now! We got married in 1987 and both our children Lucy and Mattie were christened in the College Chapel. Mike read Engineering and I read Natural Sciences, Zoology. Mike rowed in the College First Eight and I coxed the Women’s First Eight. I got my Blade at Summer Eights in 1984 as we got 5 Bumps (as did the Men that year, but after Mike left as he was the year above me) and the blade on our kitchen wall has been much envied ever since by Mike as he never got his!!! Its one of my treasured possessions! We are now working together running our vineyard, Greyfriars, on the North Downs outside Guildford in Surrey. We make sparkling wine which has now won several awards. We hope to make up to 100,000 bottles a year when we reach full capacity over the next few years. We feel so lucky to have met at Pembroke so it holds a very special place in our hearts."
Pembroke Ball 1982
Isobel & Simon Smales
None other than second year French & Spanish student Jake Smales is a Pembroke baby. Here he divulges the deets of his parents pembromance. Posh and Becks. Philip and Elizabeth. Mitchell and Webb. Many great British power couples dominate the world’s media, yet many millions remain unsung, such as that of Isobel and Simon Smales. Both from the humblest of beginnings, Pembroke would provide the necessary platform for them to launch into a relationship which has now lasted over thirty years, involving the dull, the embarrassing, and the downright legendary. Young classicist Simon strolled into Staircase 13 as God’s gift to man, yet a chance meeting with biologist Isobel in 12 through a mutual friend (my godmother) soon brought him down to a more worldly level of being. Labeled as the ‘married couple’ by the end of fresher’s, the pair quickly settled in to college life. While formal hall was equally as dire an experience, other areas of Pembroke life were different. Bops were not regular fixture, but the college bar did offer free t-shirts for those drinking more than eight pints in one sitting, a feat Simon supposedly accomplished before hall on several occasions. Simon’s second love in life was sport. He was part of the golden age of Pembroke darts, which saw the curry-house sponsored team win four league titles and two Cuppers trophies. ‘Fridgie’ Smales (named after American footballer William Perry) also captained the college’s Rugby side for two years, which culminated in a blues-less side reaching Cuppers quarterfinals. Unfortunately unforeseen complications with my vision have left me unable to continue my father’s great sporting legacy, and a less than impressive
Jon & Paula Helliwell
Pembroke Ball 1984
12
performance for the PCFC seconds has meant that I will mostly be focusing on music. Like mother like son. Iz, a bastion of women’s rowing and keen oboist, saw herself as a comedy mastermind, once overseeing the perfect recreation of my godfather’s room outside in chapel quad using every piece of his furniture in the early morning hours. Far more open to share stories of her time at university, she also tells of the Rugby tour to Cambridge during which Fridgie and the team were mercilessly thrown out of Jesus College after trying to find Prince Edward’s room. Both have put their degrees to good use. Simon’s extensive knowledge of the Iliad has lead to a career in finance, while the award-winning scientist Isobel now applies her trade as a primary school teaching assistant. While torrid stories of their time at Pembroke made me initially reluctant to continue the Smales legacy, visiting here myself for the first time, I knew one thing: I’d sure as hell have more fun than they did.
"Jon and I met on my first day (yes, that's actually true) at Pembroke in October 1983. I was sampling my first ever college lunch (baked beans, chips and cornish pasty I seem to remember as that's about all there was on the menu!) and sat down at one of the long tables against the far wall. I had just started eating when Jon asked if he could join me. We started chatting, and I learned that he was a second year Chemist. I can't say that it was love at first sight (!) but I thought he was very friendly, and when he asked if he could come back to my room for a cup of coffee after (he was one of the many second years at the time who had to live outside college) I agreed as I thought he was very friendly and assumed that was what everyone did at university! All our friends now think that it's hilarious that I actually popped the foil on my brand new jar of Nescafe instant coffee and served my first ever cup at university for the man who has now been my husband for 26 years.....! We didn't get together immediately, although we got closer as I offered to be the first year Rag Rep and he was organising Rag Week that year. I think our first 'date' was a drink in The Turf to discuss the Rag disco! We had our ups and downs over the years, but stayed together for most of the time at uni, and were very much a couple when we graduated at the same time (as chemistry was a 4 year course). We married nearly three years later, in 1989, although not at Pembroke. One moment that springs to mind from our time at Pembroke is of Jon almost being arrested in Cornmarket for being drunk while cycling (he had fallen off his bike, and still has a scar on his chin today as a result!). We now have three boys, all of whom are at university, although we weren’t able to persuade them to go to Oxford, rebuffing the family trend and going to Cambridge… Having donated to the Bridging the Centuries campaign, and having a college room named after us, we hope that current and future Pembrokians will have an altogether more sociable experience, living in for their whole degree".