Girls who wear a coat to the club are making a mistake

You finally worked up the courage to move that bodycon dress from your ASOS saved for later to your basket. You've spent the last hour dousing your hair in hair spray and straightening it to the point of no return.

Your heels perfectly match the red dress but something doesn't. Perhaps, it might be that parka you've just grabbed hold of on your way to the Uber.

I'll be the first to admit that the Midlands air at 1am isn't the most welcoming and comforting aspect of your night. But really, that 30 seconds you spend sprinting for the Uber from the safety of your student accomodation, shouting an all manner of profanities as your legs turn to ice, is worth it in the long run.

warm and toasty

You get to the club. This is once you've got through the security checks at Pryzm and realised someone's left their student ID at home. Apart from that, it's plainsailing and straight to the dancefloor. Except for you, parka girl.

You hold up your mates as you navigate them to the cloakroom queue and spend £2 to have your coat stored between a biker jacket, sticky with beer, and a fluffy monstrosity resembling a slain animal. That £2 could have bought you a Jagerbomb, Lauren, did no one teach you about basic student finance?

Or, if you're on a budget, you're just going to have to bring your coat with you INTO the club. How embarrassing. Firstly, you'll get way too hot, so you'll go for the safe tie around the waist. At this point you look like an eleven year old who's annoyed at their mum for making them bring an extra jumper to a birthday party.

And then the club photographer comes around and takes a photo of you, your mates, and your coat. Tell me, come the next afternoon when those pictures are on Facebook, are you going to be pleased with yourself?

When the night comes to an end and you make a dash for the nearest kebab shop, no one is going to be keen on queuing up with you to retrieve your coat so that YOU can be warm and THEY can freeze as you try to locate the Uber. When you're all walking up and down Broad Street shivering on the spot, no one is going to be giving you sympathy, instead you'll be receieving glares from the hardcore ones who didn't need to bring a jacket.

And you deserve those glares.