Which Star Wars character is your uni?
Awkward if you’re Jar Jar
A long time ago, on a campus far, far away, The Tab was born. The rest is history.
The saga of our “Which [INSERT POP CULTURE REFERENCE] is your uni?” article is almost as long-spanning and well-respected as George Lucas’ Star Wars series, so the two were bound to meet at one point.
Well, that point is now. Search for yours below – and may the force be with you.
Oxford – Darth Vader
There’s something terrifying about Oxford – that immense level of dark power is enough to bring you to your knees.
Despite their tyrannical rule over the rest of the UK’s unis, however, only a select few know the true face of the Oxford student: they’re nothing more than whiny mouth-breathers who are easily led by old white men.
Oxford Brookes – Anakin Skywalker
You were once good. You were once normal. You cracked jokes, you flew your podracer, you made love to your beautiful Natalie Portman-esque girlfriend.
Then you met your first promoter, and the draw of the dark side begun to suck you in. Before long you were a fretful, sleepless party animal who’d slaughter younglings just for a Fuzzy Ducks ticket. Where did it all go wrong?
Cambridge – Yoda
A fountain of knowledge, you are. The smartest person in every room you walk into. Fuck you, no-one will.
Anglia Ruskin – The Stormtrooper who hits his head
Since 1977, when Star Wars was first released, aficionados have giggled at the sight of the stormtrooper who hit his head on the ceiling when looking for Luke and Leia on the Death Star. Rewatched in the original cinema release, the VHS release, the DVD, the remastered digital edition, YouTube remixes – clank, clank, clank goes the stormtrooper’s head. And that slight embarrassment, that repeated playing, is exactly what you’re getting with a degree from Anglia Ruskin. “I went to university in Cambridge,” you’ll say.
“Oh, the University of Cambridge?” they’ll say. “No, Anglia Ruskin in the city of Cambridge,” you’ll admit, over the course of decades, much like hitting your plastic helmet against the ceiling of the Death Star, over. And over. And over again.
Leeds – Luke Skywalker
Sure, you may be estranged from your powerful father and you may have conflicted feelings about your equally attractive sister, but that’s just part and parcel of being the heir to a dynasty.
Me, go to a non-Russell Group uni? That’s impossible!
Good looking, blonde, fond of billowing vintage robes and best pictured staring into the distance during a sandy, hazy sunset: Luke Skywalker on Tatooine, or Leeds student in Thailand? It’s uncanny.
Leeds Beckett – Poe Dameron
You’re not Luke Skywalker/Leeds. You’ll never have enough substance to rival Luke Skywalker/Leeds. Still, at least you can take solace in the fact that you’re aftershave-advert handsome and probably a top shagger, while Luke Skywalker/Leeds is a massive, massive virgin.
Manchester – Princess Leia
You have a great lil gold top and an edgy scrunchied hairstyle that you rock at WHP, while gross bulbous space creatures who don’t have a chance with you perspire across the d-floor. Don’t be fooled by the wardrobe though – you are not to be fucked with. A woman’s place is in the resistance.
Man Met – The Tauntaun
Not very nice to look at from the outside, but if you slice them open with a lightsaber and let their guts ooze out from them, their inner warmth will provide you comfort in the frozen wastelands of the north.
Bristol – Han Solo
You’re just really fucking cool, aren’t you? Bet you wear that leather waistcoat to Lakota.
UWE – Chewbacca
Bristol’s closest companion, you can most often be seen waving your arms above your head and barking about the sesh. Plus you’ve definitely seen yourself in the mirror as a giant anthropomorphic dog after a particularly heavy one at Motion.
Southampton – Jabba the Hutt
You keep your gigantic form lubricated with the slime from the Jesters floor.
Cardiff – Admiral Akhbar
They told you it was in the Russell Group. It was a trap!
(He also looks like something you could eat at Family Fish Bar.)
Swansea – Admiral Raddus
You look like Cardiff, but there’s just something a little…off. Maybe this is what Admiral Akhbar would look like after a night out on Wind Street?
Aberystwyth – The sarlacc
If you choose to venture into the dark, dank pit that is Aberystwyth, there’s no saving you.
Lancaster – Orson Krennic
You think you’re one of the top ten unis in the entire country? Be careful not to choke on your aspirations, Lancaster.
UCLan – Shmi Skywalker
A smouldering carcass in the middle of nowhere.
Edinburgh – Obi-Wan Kenobi
Nominally Scottish but with a weird faux-Shakespearean English accent, you are essentially Renton from Trainspotting but with floppy hair and magical powers.
QUB – Qui-Gon Jinn
You know, the Irish one. The one in tight-lipped denial of the fraught political situation around him.
St Andrews – Count Dooku
You can imagine attending a ball hosted by Count Dooku. He rises to his feet at the start of the first course, taps his glass with the hilt of his lightsaber, and gravely booms in that trademark baritone: “Jedis may remove their dinner jackets.”
Glasgow – Captain Phasma
Because you’ll get all dolled up in your shiny silver best to go out, despite knowing a night at Viper is essentially one messy tumble down the trash chute.
Strathclyde – Nien Nunb
Bug-eyed? Sweaty? Bottom lip pretty much chewed off? Looks like Nien Nunb has been on a night out in Glasgow.
Aberdeen – Sand People
“They’ll be back soon, and in greater numbers” is what weary bouncers mutter to each other once they’ve booted a group of wailing chino wannabes out of Liquid for spilling Jäger on the carpet.
Exeter – Chancellor Palpatine
You manoeuvred yourself into a position of power, rather than fighting for it or earning it. Your accent and smug expression broadcast your Exeter-ness across the Galaxy.
While Palpatine is struggling to hide the fact he’s a phantom menace of the Sith, Exeter students are struggling to hide the fact they have absolutely no personality whatsoever.
Falmouth – Chancellor Valorum
Despite being close, you’re pretty far removed from Exeter’s posh Machiavellian scheming. All you care about is looking good in your velvet garms – and trust us, you do.
Bournemouth – Watto
You will sell literally anything, be that your promo bullshit to unsuspecting freshers or human slaves to the highest bidder.
Portsmouth – Lando Calrissian
You are like wicked cool and have to take a break from your day work of being a Cloud City/Dirty Disco lothario to put up with this Jedi shit.
Newcastle – C3PO
Is there anything more Newcastle than a campy, posh, fretful robot made ENTIRELY OUT OF SOLID GOLD? It’s a Jesmond resident’s wet dream.
Northumbria – R2D2
A bit like Newcastle, but you can’t understand a fucking word they’re saying.
Sunderland – BB-8
…they’re probably relatively good at football?
UEA – The Ewoks
Both are cuddly, both are seemingly harmless and both live in idyllic and peaceful greenery, whether it be the Norfolk countryside or on the forest moon of Endor.
Either way, you can guarantee a Tuesday night at the LCR usually looks a lot like this – except with more piss and Sabbs getting banned.
The NUS – General Hux
All postgrads – Grand Moff Tarkin
Erasmus students – Cassian Andor
Your husky accented tones are melting my knickers.
UCL – The Emperor
Yes, yeeeesss, let the knowledge flow through you. You’re just happy being the greasy, shady centre of things, and you won’t consider yourself a success until you’ve got your own throne and your own minions to do your bidding.
King’s – Supreme Leader Snoke
You’re almost a carbon copy of UCL, but with more existential angst and mysterious poetic malice. Come on, tell us Snoke’s cavernous chamber doesn’t remind you of the inside of the Maughan.
Imperial – The Stormtroopers
Queen Mary – Padme Amidala
You keep a low profile about your status in the Russell Group/queenhood. Essentially, you do the best you can with a bad script.
London School of Fashion – Padme as Queen Amidala
What the fuck are you wearing?
St George’s – The shit medical droid that lets Padme die
Because “I don’t know” may as well be your catchphrase when it comes to all things in the medical sphere.
LSE – Jango Fett and his clone army
You are dead-eyed homogenous mass-produced drones, tailored and fine-tuned by the cloners of Kamino. Your effect on the vibe of smalltalk is devastating and lethal.
Royal Holloway – Mon Mothma
You speak the Queen’s English and are the most dominant voice in your seminar/senate meeting.
Westminster – Saw Gerrera
SOAS – The death stick dealer
Substitute “buy some death sticks” for seeking petition signatures for a total non-cause like “saving the bees” and that is SOAS in a nutshell.
– “You wanna sign my petition to save the bees?”
– “You don’t want to get me to sign your petition to save the bees.”
– “I don’t wanna get you to sign my petition to save the bees.”
– “You want to go home and rethink your life.”
– “I wanna go home and rethink my life.”
Royal College of Music – The Mos Eisley Cantina band
Do-do-do-do, do-do-do, do-do, do-doodle-do, doooo do.
Brunel – Galen Urso
You could design the inner workings of a Death Star with your eyes closed. You are destined to begrudgingly work for a large corporation you hate. You have a bad haircut.
Sussex – Boba Fett
You undoubtedly have daddy issues – it’s the only way to explain your edgy headgear, your sullen silences and your pervasive recreational drug habit.
Brighton – Darth Maul
Sick tattoos, man, where did you get them? Gnarly horns bro, are they body mods? Do you always wear all-black? Oh, you don’t talk? That’s cool too.
Nottingham Trent – Jar Jar Binks
The more fun version of Nottingham, you’re essentially just the comic relief. The problem is, by the fifth time you’ve put on your funny voice/taken your top off/tripped over someone on the Ocean dancefloor, it stops being quite as funny.
Nottingham – Boss Nass
You’re a big deal – at least you claim to be – but to be honest everyone’s forgotten about you by the time you’ve stopped talking.
Keele – Darth Plagueis the Wise
Did you ever hear the tragedy of Keele University for the unwise? I thought not. It’s not a story the guidance counsellors would tell you.
Liverpool – General Grievous
You can’t complain about your wheezing cough when you spend that much time in the Level smoking area.
Liverpool John Moores – Chirrut Îmwe
I am the sesh the sesh is with me
I am the sesh the sesh is with me
I am the sesh the sesh is with me
Birmingham, Aston and BCU – Ki Adi Mundi, Kit Fisto and Plo Koon
This is what people who choose to study in Birmingham probably look like.
Leicester – Bodhi Rook
You spend most of the time in a hellish pit in a desolate land (the East Midlands) being tortured.
Warwick – Rey
Warwick: the domain of posh girls to whom everything comes a little too easily. Want to be a Jedi? No problem – we’re sure daddy can help.
Kent – Finn
Like a dumber version of Warwick/Rey, Finn spent most of his life in the same environment as most Kent students: that is, serving as part of a sheltered, faceless army of drones who know nothing beyond the bland facade of their campus/their allotted Star Destroyer.
York – Kylo Ren
“Capes are rad,” you mumble to yourself as you moodily pace between colleges. If anyone crosses you you bisect them with a rolled-up copy of the Guardian. You are more at peace among horrifying Brutalist architecture than you are with your parents. You have found yourself.
York St John – TR-8R
You when your mate suggests going to Salvation on a Wednesday.
Loughborough – Mace Windu
You’re tough, assertive, good looking and probably a stallion in the sack, but put you in an actual fight and you’ll get your arse handed to you within seconds.
Durham – Jyn Urso
Because you’re a posh little rebel, even if your own rebellion was fucking up your A-levels and not getting into Oxbridge. Plus, every night at Lloyds is a Rogue One.
Bath – Wedge Antilles
Square-jawed, regular, approachable. And yet utterly forgettable and dull. It says a lot about Wedge Antilles that he was the main character in the Gamecube game’s Star Wars Rogue Squadron II: Rogue Leader.
Sheffield – Maz Kanata
You at Tuesday Club vs you the morning after Tuesday Club.
Herts – K-2SO
“Congratulations, you are being rescued,” drones Herts Uni as they give you a clearing offer of two Ds and a C.
You didn’t go to uni – Nute Gunray
“Get a trade, that’s where the real money is,” your no-nonsense father told you. You may head up your union and even be able to organise a blockade but you resent everyone with a degree.
Hull – Gonk
Additional reporting by Harry Shukman.