It was my first day of university. My parents had dropped me off – and after making my bed up and hanging a few band posters, I dug out a mug from the packed boxes and poured myself a shot of vodka (priorities).
Steeled by the booze, I proceeded to knock on my neighbours’ doors and keenly asked them if they were going out that night. Before I knew it, there was a sizeable group of us gathered in the courtyard of our halls for “pre-drinks” – all dressed in skimpy bodycon dresses or Jack Wills polo tops (the style at the time), playing “Never Have I Ever”.
Beyond that, I don’t necessarily remember Freshers’ Week. It’s just a blur of themed nights (Hogwarts houses, sheriffs and deputies, foam parties…); random music acts (one night Coolio played for us at the student union); brightly-coloured alcopops (we had a VK bar by the dancefloor) and fried breakfasts to ease the hangover (my plate always had at least five hash browns on it).
But I do remember the excitement of it all: the sense of camaraderie and the instant friendships. Even those I don’t speak to now helped make that time special in some way (or provided a great anecdote to tell later). Freshers’ Week was a way to celebrate and mark the fact that we were no longer kids, but not quite adults; we were living away from home, but had the security of knowing we were all in it together. It was, in short, one of the best times of my life.
And so it makes me sad that students now are so keen to shake off the tradition that is Freshers’. Apparently, that rite of passage for Gen Z now includes activities such as… macramé nights, hummus societies and Disney screenings. Oh, please…
Now, even though my personal introduction to university was booze-related, I’m not saying all young people need to drink to have fun – or that they should give into peer pressure, like so many of us did back then. I actually think it’s great that Gen Z are more aware of the health implications (both physical and mental) of booze and other substances – and (crucially) aren’t scared to say no.
But I do worry that they might just have forgotten how to have fun. It’s all well and good pursuing a wholesome, holistic lifestyle – but you shouldn’t have to get old before your time to do it. Plus, if there is such a big pool of tee-totallers and sober-curious people as reports and surveys suggest, it’s not as though you’d be the only one not drinking on a night out.
I’m fascinated about what you could call the “grannification” of Gen Z. I’m sure there are loads of reasons to embrace “cottagecore” – even when your “cottage” is a box room in university halls of residence – not least the pandemic. Gen Z were forced to do a vast number of their going out/getting wrecked (or just being silly and having a good time) years on Zoom. They didn’t get the chance to misbehave.
Then, there’s the very real cost of living crisis (or “cozzy livs”) and rising tuition fees – none of which exactly scream “fun”.
But I can’t help but feel that there’s more to it than that. When I think about what has changed in the past decade (yikes) since I was at uni, the main thing that comes to mind is social media. Yes, we had MySpace and Bebo growing up – and Instagram came out when I was in my second year – but we just didn’t document our lives and nights out in the same way we do now. We certainly didn’t create Sunday resets, GRWM videos and #slowlife montages; or dream of living in a doily-strewn cottage.
At most: we’d take a crappy digital camera out with us, take terribly unflattering photos of everyone and upload them to Facebook the next day. Part of the hangover process was going through and untagging yourself from 50+ heinous snaps – but we still didn’t really care as much as kids seem to now. They were meant to be funny, rather than carefully curated. It was about having a good time in the moment – not about creating content for our online friends.
Be a p***head at university or don’t be a p***head, that’s not really my point: but do, please, be young. Be foolish, be silly, make mistakes, take terrible photos of your mate with their head in a bucket. You won’t regret it when you’re older – trust me.