Being an Oxford student is a lot. You’re juggling a debilitating workload, carving out non-existent time to see your friends, and occasionally remembering to eat something. Enter the newest enemy that rivals even Microsoft Authenticator: Oxford study influencers. We’ve all seen those ‘study with me in the Harry Potter library’ or ‘day in the life’ videos. I used to consume them religiously as a source of inspiration when I was applying to Oxford. Now when I come across them I just feel rage.
These study influencers seem to have one purpose: to make me feel as bad about my life as possible. Not only are they getting all their work done, they are doing it aesthetically. I find that no matter how many times I study in the Rad Cam, wear my Doc Martens with aplomb, and lug my copy of The Secret History everywhere, I just can’t seem to unlock their level of aesthetic studying. This is the real punch in the gut for me. I suppose it’s partly because of different lifestyles. After all, if I filmed and time-stamped my lock-in sessions the video would end up being about five hours long, with me rotating on my seat every few minutes like a rotisserie chicken and getting distracted by everything.
But I digress. One important promise that I made to myself before coming here was that I was going to romanticise the hell out of it. My phone wallpaper is still an Oxford x Gilmore Girls x Elle Woods collage I made on Pinterest in the depths of application hell two Novembers ago. Something about looking at the rigorous yet aesthetic studying of pre-Yale Rory Gilmore (because what the hell happened after she got in) helped me visualise what I wanted to achieve. Academic excellence first and foremost, but studying aesthetically as a close second.
I was on the right track to do just that, with the help of my trusty Pinterest vision boards. But when I got here, my priorities changed: my aim was to survive, not thrive. Originally, my plan had been to lock in with academics at the start and, once I had less work to do, I would then get to romanticising my life at Duke Humfrey’s. Delusional, I know. The workload didn’t get lighter, I didn’t find the time to study aesthetically in the pretty libraries wearing anything more impressive than my Keble joggers and Uggs, and so romanticising had to go on the back burner.
Which brings me to the study influencers, or humiliation ritual organisers, as I like to think of them. Though I was struggling through a weekly reading list so long it rivalled War and Peace, the study influencers had time to – *gasp* – read for pleasure in the old libraries. It’s an old aphorism that Oxford kills one’s ability to read for pleasure, but honestly it’s true. Take it from an English student who genuinely loves reading. But besides this slight foundering, last year I was handing in my work on time and even remembering to exercise (by which I mean the occasional very begrudgingly done ten-minute ab workout on my bedroom floor). So why did I feel like such a failure?
I realised that it was because these study influencers seemed to be doing everything better than me. Whilst I was spending hours in the library on one essay, they were sauntering through assignments in infuriatingly short time-stamped minutes. Whilst I would get to my lectures with seconds to spare, they had time to take two-hour detours around Uni Parks with their fifth caramel latte of the day. Whilst the days of imagining myself as an aesthetic academic weapon like Rory were definitively over and replaced by reality, theirs were just beginning.
I am many things, but above all I am stubborn. More stubborn than an old man who refuses to scan a QR code menu. So, I snapped out of my dejection and point-blank rejected the idea that the study influencers were having a better Oxford experience than me. And thus began the reinvention of my life philosophy, born out of pure obstinacy. I started to approach romanticising this place like they did, instead of just complaining: I sat in the Rad Cam and actually took in my surroundings, I made the effort to get up and work in different places just because they were aesthetically pleasing, and, finally, I made it to Duke Humfrey’s. My friend and I went just last week, and I kid you not when I say that it inspired the best lock-in of our lives. I wrote an entire essay from scratch in there, just because I felt inspired. There is something about the lighting, or maybe the architecture, of Duke Humfrey’s that produces my best work (or maybe it’s just because it was used in Harry Potter).
My advice for this week is therefore: if you feel like everyone is living the Oxford student life better than you, don’t ignore the feeling. Take your fury and turn it into something useful. The only reason I ended up at Duke Humfrey’s last Thursday, four terms into my degree, was because I was fuming at the prospect that the Oxford influencers were having more fun studying than me. So it’s true what they say. Being a hater can be highly efficient.