How to fit in at Sunday Revs

Let me set the scene for you

Sunday Revs has a reputation among students as being the “classy” night.

Despite the questionable shots and the stench of Hooch, the presence of an actual dress code makes Revs a serious occasion for York students – and unless you stick to the status quo, you’ll just get laughed at. And then vommed on.

Who ever heard of Monday 9am lectures?

The uniform

Revs is the perfect platform to show off just how classy one can dress. While queueing it’s difficult to see past the veritable smorgasbord of blazers, roll necks and massive heels on offer.

For the boys, a blazer may have seemed the height of sartorial elegance when throwing together the outfit, but beyond the chilly night air of the Revs queue and the photo area it becomes a chore, too hot to consider throwing shapes in and too expensive to risk leaving in the cloakroom or on a chair.

See the roll neck/blazer, hate the roll neck/blazer

For girls, the heels and dresses carefully chosen and then put back and then chosen again may have seemed like a good idea at home, but even a short stroll along the York’s famous cobbles will have ankles spraining and dignity evaporating quicker than you can say “Oh, so this is the queue for queue jump?”

One misplaced foot on the cobbles and it’s game over

The people

Like any night for York University, Sunday at Revs attracts the weird and the wonderful and everything in between. The Revs crowd can be broken down into three  groups:

  1. The reminiscent second and third Years: The short walk from the cashpoints at RBS to Revs brings back memories of a time gone by. A second or third year can often be found gazing wistfully at the wall where the Willow sign once hung, a tear in their eye as they remember what went down in those hallowed halls. Once in Revs, however, they are transformed, immediately worming their way to the front of the drinks queue, making eyes at their friends behind the bar, and ordering a tray of shots they’ve had untold times. They know they taste appalling, but they drink them anyway because “it’s Revs mate.”

    Imagine the scenes here if Willow was still open

  2. The freshers trying far too hard: Fresh off the bus from Derwent or Library Bridge, the freshers move toward Revs with a surprising quietness, the bus chants taking their toll. Despite being at the university for almost three months now, they readily join the back of the queue – raging hormones and Paco Rabanne mixing in the air with their breath. After the obligatory squad photos with flatmates they unsuccessfully tried to shag in freshers’ week, the try-hard fresher makes their way into the club. They move to the terrace area, shaking hands awkwardly with course mates and immediately regretting the decision they made pre-uni to smoke socially.

    Obligatory fresher squad photo

  3. The ever-present locals: Despite having lived in York for most of their life and frequented Coney Street many times before, there will always be a local man or woman doing their best to make it inside. They queue awkwardly alongside you whilst pestering you for a cigarette, perhaps hoping that the show of companionship will somehow translate into you sneaking them in. Always 20 years your senior, they seem surprised that the bouncers even think of asking them for a student ID, and on failure to produce they try the fabled “Oh yeah mate that’s fine but I’m in industry”, met with a no and a firm shove out of the queue and out of your lives until next week.

The drinks order

Masquerading as your average student bar, Revs caters to all tastes. Beers and ciders sit alongside artisan spirits and mixer guns. With your senses clouded by one too many triple-vodka-blue-somethings and your debit card in hand, the world is your oyster and the bar staff know it.

Without the knowledge of the outrageous prices, you would forgive a fresher for ordering anything other than a tray of flavoured vodka shots. The more experienced students will already know which flavour combination to go for and will have their £6 in hand.

This is not a tray of vodka shots. Do not order this.

At the end of the night the Revs crowd will go their separate ways. Many will stumble into the warm embrace of McDonald’s, others will call taxis with whoever they managed to convince to shag them in tow: all will be up at midday with a raging hangover and crippling guilt from their choices the night before.

Thanks to York Parties  and Daniel Easton for the photos.