Nan has written 29 articles for Nouse
When Grace Fletcher-Spears shaved her head in recent weeks, she laid herself open to a torrent of speculation about not…
A terrible thing happened. I was watching daytime telly and an advert trying to persuade people to donate to Childline…
It’s hard to find something to write about these days. Especially something that does not involve consoling third years about…
I’ve been watching a lot of daytime TV. I have this theory that writing essays in front of the telly is a good way to focus; it stops you from being able to think tangentially. You can’t think about much more than your essay thesis and a cooking programme, rather than your essay thesis and all the alternative theses that you might be writing on
I miss believing that some people know everything. I’ve never been religious but I did, in my youth, have complete faith in certain people’s unwavering correctness. My Dad, for example. Until at least the age of seven, if I had any questions about life, the universe and anything, I never doubted that not only would my Dad be able to answer them, but he’d do so correctly too
Earlier today, I had a shock. Apparently, according to the Facebook news feed, there is such a thing as a ‘Nan-esque moment of shame’. Someone used that exact phrase to describe the culmination of their previous night’s experiences. What? What! How did I become a shame-o-meter all of a sudden?
I think I’ve discovered the secret of sexy dressing; it was revealed at Friday’s Battle of the Bands heat. What you have to do, if you want to show some skin, is make the whole thing seem incidental – accidental even. So, instead of undoing your top four shirt buttons to show off your lovely chest, just get a shirt that doesn’t have the buttons in the first place
G. K. Chesterton said “The object of a new year is not that we should have a new year. It is that we should have a new soul.” Ah the prospect of self renewal! None are more susceptible to it than angst-ridden finalists trying to decide what, how, where to spend the rest of their lives
Never mind my soul, it worries me that Christmas has become a time for me and my siblings to destroy those of my parents. Not in a malicious way, but is it just my mum and dad who seem a little bit madder every time I go home? And is it just me who reacts to unconditional love by ripping the piss out of those who gave me life because they won’t hold it against me?
Schadenfreude: the malicious enjoyment of the misfortune of others. It has always been a resoundingly German concept, in that it has not been British. The word’s import into the English language in its original form is a sort of linguistic get out of jail free card to avoid cultural ownership of a rather disconcerting emotional response
Searching for strategies to raise my stakes in the popularity game after my smugly-headlined column in last month’s edition, I…
So, parties. Students love them, can’t get enough of them. Parties bring us together, giving a population of 10,000 students a common interest. Parties are where we leave our academic loyalties at the door and humanities, arts and sciences mix it up. Parties let us dress up, drink, dance and hopefully make a good impression