‘Wear the PVC top with pride…’ Advice to the 18-year old me…
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Every Tuesday, I decamp to the peace and quiet of the library at Southampton University. It’s nice there – rows and rows of books, intellectual people writing clever things, a big empty swimming pool – and I can spend a day pleasantly reminiscing.
20 years ago this September, I joined its hallowed halls and became a student of Southampton University. Twenty years ago! How the bloody hell did that happen? I am fortunate enough to still be friends with my flatmates (and pseudo flatmates) from the dive of 28 Shakespeare Avenue, a loyal rag-tag of a
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crew I would trust with my life, and who know my darkest, shameful and most celebrated secrets.
A lot has changed since 1997, and I wonder what 18-year old me would make of my life now. I know what I would say to her if I saw her, nose buried in A4 paper in the library…
Don’t worry about the boys. There are more important things in life than men. Enjoy their company but don’t stress too much about finding ‘the one’ – it’ll work out, and there are far worse things than being single.
You are not fat. You can eat a Yorkie bar a day
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(you did) and not put on a pound (you didn’t). Wear that PVC top with pride and make sure people take a lot of photos of how fabulous you look.
Be careful of dodgy haircuts. Maybe if you want to get all your hair cut off you should pay more than a tenner and book an appointment rather than popping along in your lunch hour. And when a friend says, “it’s not that bad” you know it really is. (Thanks, Mr Burford…)
Don’t be so bloody lazy. So the PhD would have taken a bit of work, but you could have been a Doctor by now – wouldn’t
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that have been cool? Take advantage of your lack of responsibility and commitments and do what you want to do. Follow your dreams, and don’t settle for a backup career, you’re not living a backup life.
Travel. A lot. Take my word for it, when you’re older you won’t feel quite so disposed to stay in cockroach-infected dives, walk up Sydney Harbour bridge, or travel with only one pair of trousers. Pack that bag, and just go. And don’t change your plans at any time for a man (see point 1.)
Don’t be in such a rush to be an
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‘adult’. You’ll get to wear a suit and heels and travel to London in rush hour. You’ll make presentations, beg to get promoted, laugh at their jokes and wear the corporate pass. You’ll pay rent, council tax, car insurance and pension contributions for a future you can’t quite imagine. And do you know? It’s not as fun as you think it’ll be; deep down, you’ll always prefer to wear Converse. But don’t worry, you’ll never own a Ford Mondeo. You never get to be quite that boring.
And finally, ditch the fags. Because, come on!
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You’re smarter than that.
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Louisa de Lange - 9 Feb 17
Every Tuesday, I decamp to the peace and quiet of the library at Southampton University. It’s nice there – rows and rows of books, intellectual people writing clever things, a big empty swimming pool – and I can spend a day pleasantly reminiscing.
20 years ago this September, I joined its hallowed halls and became a student of Southampton University. Twenty years ago! How the bloody hell did that happen? I am fortunate enough to still be friends with my flatmates (and pseudo flatmates) from the dive of 28 Shakespeare Avenue, a loyal rag-tag of a crew I would trust with my life, and who know my darkest, shameful and most celebrated secrets.
A lot has changed since 1997, and I wonder what 18-year old me would make of my life now. I know what I would say to her if I saw her, nose buried in A4 paper in the library…
Don’t worry about the boys. There are more important things in life than men. Enjoy their company but don’t stress too much about finding ‘the one’ – it’ll work out, and there are far worse things than being single.
You are not fat. You can eat a Yorkie bar a day (you did) and not put on a pound (you didn’t). Wear that PVC top with pride and make sure people take a lot of photos of how fabulous you look.
Be careful of dodgy haircuts. Maybe if you want to get all your hair cut off you should pay more than a tenner and book an appointment rather than popping along in your lunch hour. And when a friend says, “it’s not that bad” you know it really is. (Thanks, Mr Burford…)
Don’t be so bloody lazy. So the PhD would have taken a bit of work, but you could have been a Doctor by now – wouldn’t that have been cool? Take advantage of your lack of responsibility and commitments and do what you want to do. Follow your dreams, and don’t settle for a backup career, you’re not living a backup life.
Travel. A lot. Take my word for it, when you’re older you won’t feel quite so disposed to stay in cockroach-infected dives, walk up Sydney Harbour bridge, or travel with only one pair of trousers. Pack that bag, and just go. And don’t change your plans at any time for a man (see point 1.)
Don’t be in such a rush to be an ‘adult’. You’ll get to wear a suit and heels and travel to London in rush hour. You’ll make presentations, beg to get promoted, laugh at their jokes and wear the corporate pass. You’ll pay rent, council tax, car insurance and pension contributions for a future you can’t quite imagine. And do you know? It’s not as fun as you think it’ll be; deep down, you’ll always prefer to wear Converse. But don’t worry, you’ll never own a Ford Mondeo. You never get to be quite that boring.
And finally, ditch the fags. Because, come on! You’re smarter than that.
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Writer. Debut novel, The Dream Wife, published by Orion in Oct 18. I have too many bookcases, too many books I haven't read and an addiction to American TV. Find me on Twitter at @paperclipgirl and Facebook at @ldlwriter.
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