Every student you will inevitably meet at Exetah
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As famed tennis player Martina Navratilova once said, 'Labels are for clothes. Labels are not for people'. Navratilova had clearly never visited the University of Exeter where stereotypes have been proven scientifically accurate.
Exeter might be full of students, but meet five and you’ve met them all.
We've compiled a definitive list of every kind of student you'll meet during your time at Exetah, check them out below:
The Silly Fresh
The silly fresh arrived at Birks on move in day in a Jack Wills woollen jumper, blue Joni jeans and with a limited knowledge of the 'tacky chunder'.
Come Christmas, and they are akin to that of a WWI soldier sent home for shell shock; turns out, even middle class unis live in squalor, and that's with a weekly cleaner visit.
The silly fresh flocks to TP at 8:30, because 'Millie went last week and got told to come back at 12!'.
They also get mugged off by the same rugby boy at least five times. Last week, he bought her a VK and now she *thinks* he might be the One.
The Gap Yah
The Gap Yah rite of passage; first stop inter-railing, second stop Thailand, third stop Exeter central railway station.
They fully embrace the rolled ciggie lifestyle, not because they can't afford straights, but because a pouch of tobacco is essentially their national flag.
Their bedrooms resemble a tarot reader's dim lair, and smell of the incense that they brought back from the hills of Peru. Sadly though, despite spending hours and hours of toil thrifting through charity shops, nothing is ever edgy enough to disguise the second home in the French Riviera.
The Basic Bitch
Blonde, basic and synonymous with all things Exetah. Sports puffer, flares and a bottle of rose are the entrance requirements for this category.
In the winter they migrate to Verbier, and in summer it's Dubai, Mykonos and Ibiza.
Sustaining themselves with smashed avocado and sourdough, they must survive on a meagre portion of quinoa until the Ocado delivery arrives tomorrow.
You can spot them from afar, via the glint of their metallic chilly bottles and the Tiffany necklace super glued to their necks.
The Rugby Boy
The rugby boy is a fan of only three things; stash, Wednesday socials and first years.
They have spent 70 per cent of their uni nights out dressed as the opposite sex, and the other 30 per cent regurgitating cheap cider.
They continue their stampede until approximately February in their third year, when they begin to realise that no amount of £2 Jaeger bombs can deflate the fact that they must soon face a dreary life of corporate gloom.
The one that actually has their life together
While the rest of us flop around campus and wake up after 12, this person has been to the gym, done a clothes wash and has written a short novel titled 'Devonshire Memoirs'.
Somehow, they resist peer pressure and make their 8:30s without a hangover, and actually do the additional reading.
They remember their refillable coffee cups and have a packed lunch which contains a homemade kale and pomegranate wrap.
Part of you wishes you were them, but the other part of you secretly enjoys paying £27 grand to do absolutely nothing except drink and sleep. We'll all be crying tears of envy though as they leave with a first and a job at JP Morgan, while you scrabble for a last min 2:1 and retreat back home to your sixth form Saturday job.