The top 10 things we all secretly miss about Pollock

Pollock Halls. There are three secret entry requirements to get in beyond good grades in your A-levels. You have to: go to a private school, already know at least 50 people who intend to live in Pollock as well, and have a ridiculously posh name like Roland or Arabella. Or, if you’re name isn’t cool enough, you have to come up with a dumb nickname.

Despite the bad rep, I think we can all agree that watching the antics of Pollock dwellers is one of the most entertaining parts of being an Edi student.

So, here are the 10 things our hearts bleed to feel and see again.

1. The hundreds of Ubers outside reception on a Monday night

You’d think an apocalypse was about to happen. There’s an outburst between Tarquin and Titus because Tiberius got a regular instead of an XL and now he’s got to pay £6 on daddy’s credit card to cancel it. Boys are discussing who’s going to get with who and girls are complaining that they’re cold because they’re wearing a bralette as a top in November.

Cars are bumper to bumper in a three mile radius around Pollock. Oh, and you can just about hear a faint voice go “why wouldn’t Juju’s be fucking good?”

2. Packs of boys with mullets

I remember the times you could look out of your window in Pollock and be greeted with the sight of about six boys with freshly trimmed mullets walking in Air Force 1s to the JMCC.

Like David Attenborough watching lions in Kenya, it really felt like you were witnessing the phenomenon of posh boys flourishing in their natural habitat. Now, you rarely catch sight of one – it’s like an extinct species. A tragedy or a natural miracle? Up to you.

3. Awkward one night stand breakfast dates

Nothing quite like splitting a soggy hash brown after sharing a single bed with an absolute unit of a 6’4 rugby boy who you met seven hours ago in Atik, having just been forced out his room by the fire alarm going off. The shitty breakfast really is the cherry of the uni one-night stand cake.

On top of that, your jeans are inside out and you’re pretty sure someone spilt their drink on you last night because you smell of VK. There’s a hickey appearing on your neck because it felt like a sexy thing to suggest when you were drunk. The only walk of shame you’ll experience is the walk back to your new pal’s room to collect the piece of clothing you left there four days later. Oh, and you’ll most likely bump into and awkwardly greet all of their neighbours who now suddenly know who are you. 

4. Tragic meals at JMCC

Who doesn’t love mac and cheese with a side of curly fries, diet Coke, sweetcorn and a millionaire shortbread? I honestly would give my arm to just have one last shitty meal before drinking a bottle of bucky in a tiny room with LED lights before getting into an Uber to Juju’s. 

Shoutout to the hash browns though, those tasted like they were handcrafted by Gordon Ramsay when you were hanging by a thread before a nine am tutorial.

5. Questionable fashion choices

Who would have thought 10 years ago that flares would once again be all the rage? Let’s not forget paring them with six inch platform trainers, an embarrassingly oversized puffer coat, an obscene amount of jewellery and a silently socially accepted hairstyle of shoulder-length blonde hair.

Better yet, who could have foreseen boys wearing corduroy trousers, Gucci sliders, socks with weed leaves on them, naff rings and ugly fleeces from Polo Ralph Lauren or Tommy Hilfiger and it be considered fashionable?

“They all dress like characters in Clueless“ – an observation made by an American in Pollock.

6. Pantry pres

Sweaty, cramped, terrible DnB playing and people discussing how much daddy has put into their trust fund. The vibes are a bit confused because half of the room are drinking and the other half are playing the piano or a board game before they head upstairs for an early night. The poor RAs are being told to fuck off over the noise of Skepta. The only way to get your night started.

7. People smoking on the benches by Chancellors 

“Oi, where’s my baccy?” is usually what can be heard as you fight through a mosh pit you can barely see through because of the smoke from the crowd of 50 people smoking a pre-dinner blem. Nothing is cooler than lung cancer, right Talulah? At least you’ve got an exquisite meal to look forward to as a reward for surviving the treacherous journey.

Or, more intimidating are the boys who smoke a cig at 8am outside Chancellor’s. I once tripped and fell over outside Block A and this guy came up to me and with genuine concern said “rah, are you alright?” as he was rolling a blem. Don’t worry I said “rah, yeah I am” in response.

8. Bullying anyone not from London, particularly Northerners

Sometimes I think people in Pollock don’t believe anything exists outside of London. They also act like someone’s mentally deficient if they sound like they aren’t from London. If you’re from the North, just don’t bother even setting foot in Pollock unless you want people being confused or taking the piss out of you every time you speak. The Yorkshire Dales don’t mean anything to people who do their weekly shop at Harrod’s. 

9. The lingo

It doesn’t matter if you’ve got a voice straight out of Made in Chelsea if you don’t know your posh lingo to match it. Saying “mate” after every five words is a requirement and if you don’t say “dutty” unironically then you’re simply not meant for Pollock.

10. Everyone there seemingly knowing everyone else

If you went to a private school, you automatically will have links to other people who also went to a private school. What you end up with is a network of people trying to prove to each other that they’re more connected than everyone else. It’s no wonder the greeting in Pollock is not “what’s your name?” it’s just “what school did you go to?”.

Can lead to confusion though because it can be tricky working out which Hugo from Eton Quinton is referring to. Really just feels like boarding school all over again. 

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