A rundown of every ick you’ll ever experience before leaving Oxford Uni
Rah, where’s my baccy?
The list of nauseating stereotypes associated with Oxford students is as long as your arm, and it grows by the day, so please enjoy a collection of the worst, most excruciating icks and their owners.
Most of these are, regrettably, based on personal experience, and I sincerely hope that everybody who identifies with any of the traits on this list takes a good, hard look at themselves. Perhaps you have encountered some of these for yourself? If so, I am truly very sorry.
Either way, I hope you’re not eating right now <3
Full suit and tie in spoons
Wearing a full suit in Spoons on any other day other than Matriculation is just not it. Oxford might put on frequent formal events, but could you not at least take off your tie and jacket?
Bridge Brookes sharks
We are talking about the Brookes boys who hang around the top floor of Bridge, thrashing about to DnB and waiting for fresh batches of frosh to filter in. There is nothing attractive about wearing haggard Airforces and shouting “Brookes or books?!” across the dance floor, whilst enrobed in a cloud of watermelon vape smoke. Nothing at all.
Goes to Christ Church
No further questions, your honour.
If your idea of a hot date is actually a debate, or a trip down Cornmarket Street viciously campaigning for hustings, then the Union is your dream dating pool. However if you do not relish being told the reasons why parliament ought to be restructured, or nefariously strategising the PR catastrophes of other intense Union buffs, then prepare to get the ultimate ick.
A similar theme to the Union Hacks; PPEists don’t walk, they strut. They think they are always right, and can have a violently superior aura, probably because of the low acceptance rate. Not the one.
Girbo$$ with a saviour complex
We know they mean well, and those chunky rings and flared jeans look great, but the preaching really kills the vibe. We know they’re vegan and probably right, but they don’t have to lecture people who are devouring their cheesy chips at 4am about the evils of the dairy industry. As soon as you hear, “Rah, where’s my baccy”, just drop the van food and run.
People who list all 5,000 family members who went to Oxford
(Including their dog)
These girls are an extreme flavour of annoying, and can usually be found hanging around the Rad Cam with their hair in a claw clip, wearing jeans, loafers and a blazer.
You can bet they miss their pony, who is incidentally their screensaver, and when they meet an ex-pony-clubber from years ago, they will engage in an entirely exclusive conversation about stirrups and thoroughbreds for *hours*.
Mega pro extreme cyclists
Lycra is not cute, but the shoes are what really do the greatest damage. Not to mention the fact they would probably rather shag their latest bike, and will spend more time preening it, oiling it and tending to it than they will actually listening to you.
Junior statisticians / the fact obsessed
The city is swarming with clever people, but these people are just constantly spitting facts out at you. NO, I don’t want to know what percentage of the New College Physicists took a chemistry A Level, or what the capital city of Montenegro is. Save it for University Challenge.
Oxford Guild evangelicals
We have all met at least one soulless “entrepreneur” who became a member of the esteemed Oxford business society and ever since has walked around with that extra little bit of pompous swagger. Put the briefcase down, Lord Sugar.
Androids might be better but we don’t want to hear about it. Probably study Comp Sci. Enough said.
Too much merch
Pride in your uni or college is one thing but please give it a rest with the head to toe branded fit which gives off the impression of a uniform; if you don’t take off that branded clobber, no-one else will.