It’s bad. It’s really bad. My first Cambridge clubbing experience involved a man dressed as Napoleon and a remix of the Pirates of the Caribbean theme tune — something that should have warded me off clubbing here forever. Somehow I managed to overcome the trauma of Freshers’ week and made a return to going out, and in the past year it has been truly bizarre: people regularly go out in suits and ties; no DJ has ever effectively transitioned between a song; and the price of tickets means I’m considerably poorer.

The love-hate relationship Cambridge’s students (and locals) have with our clubs is famous. We make the top ten worst clubbing towns in the UK every year, but ticketbridge is full every week of students offering their kidneys in exchange for a ticket at a ridiculous markup. In spite of its popularity, people are still horrified when I say I genuinely quite like going out in Cambridge. Could this be because it’s actually bad? Maybe. But I think it’s our pretentiousness rather than their quality that makes people have such strong reactions to our nightlife in particular.

“I think it’s our pretentiousness rather than their quality that makes people have such strong reactions to our nightlife in particular”

Clubbing in most other university towns is a pretty central part of student life, with places renowned for terrible clubbing (Durham, Exeter, Bath) still having flocks of students out every week to see if it’ll be any better this time. Somehow at Oxbridge I’ve found our attitude towards doing ‘normal’ student things, from going out to cooking our own meals, remarkably snobbish. It might be the kind of person a mediaeval university attracts, or the result of the amount of work we had to do to get here. Regardless, the people here act as though the more frivolous parts of life are beneath them. This is reflected in our nightlife, or when people refuse to dress up for themed bops and take part in our less ‘traditional’ traditions.

Is this an example of our pretentiousness getting in the way of having fun? In a place as stressful and often serious as Cambridge, I find I need a bizarre night out to remind me that I exist outside of work and can fully detach from the severity of Cambridge in a way that societies don’t necessarily allow for. This isn’t a defence of our drinking culture either – last year I went out sober semi-often and still had a good time. Cambridge can be a severe place with a lot of pressure, and sometimes I need to remind myself that nothing I’m doing is quite as life-ending as it may seem.

Yes, the clubs are rubbish, but having fun in my experience doesn’t always mean being particularly cool, and the certain degree of irony many need to do anything a bit cringe-worthy is almost sad. As long as I’m with the right group of people, even Vinyl can be redeemable. Where else will you find a woman with a life size Harry Styles cutout tearing up the dance floor to the Macarena?

“Some of the perfectionism that comes with doing a Cambridge degree seems to have seeped into our attitudes towards life more generally”

I’m not really defending Cambridge clubbing (apologies if you feel misled by the title). I appreciate its awfulness and continue to occasionally enjoy it, even if I feel too old for Revs. More importantly, I’m defending the idea of being cringe.

Some of the perfectionism that comes with doing a Cambridge degree seems to have seeped into our attitudes towards life more generally. Trying new things here is hard, especially the older you get, and the college system can make it hard to break out of your own community. People are reluctant to speak to random strangers, even in their own college bars. This feels reasonable here, but I promise that in most university towns and cities, having a conversation with a stranger who may (pause for gasps) not go to your uni is very normal. To me, our obsession with not embarrassing ourselves is robbing us of the opportunity to have fun — something that should matter as much as our degrees. Without trying to make my soft spot for Vinyl too deep, please stop taking yourselves so seriously.