A few weeks ago, Rosie Millard of the Telegraph gave helpful advice to freshers everywhere regarding what they should take to university. She advocated bringing ‘a large trunk…with nick-nacks and antiques’, ‘cushions from Bulgaria’, ‘Egyptian cotton sheets from John Lewis’, and ‘a selection of seductive Paul Simon numbers’. Given that Millard declared herself bankrupt in 2008, we can only assume the £40,000 she had accumulated in debt stemmed from that passion for soft furnishings which she now wishes to share with students already borrowing over £6,000 a year from the government.

But Rosie, we see your point. What is life where ‘all the new chums’ are unable to gather round a Louis XIV card table for drinking games?  We would like to suggest a few further necessities for newbies this year:

 

High-quality coffee

Millard suggests an eight-cup cafetière. But she forgets to mention that if you’re not rocking the right sort of coffee brand, ostracism is just a Gucci-loafered step away. If your coffee hasn’t been shat out by a civet and collected by trained doves, you’re not trying hard enough.

Those big blue IKEA bags

Not an obvious choice, it must be admitted, but where else are you going to keep those stacks of money for the pub? One never knows when one might be required to purchase friendship by way of drinks.  As none of your furnishings will come from IKEA, these items will require a special trip. Get a lower-class friend to pop down there, and thank them with a cup of tea brewed in your antique teapot. Actually – best not to waste the Darjeeling unnecessarily. Keep aside some PG tips instead, but hide them behind your vintage china elephant collection.

Food

Delia’s barbeque chicken is a delightful evening meal, Millard writes. Yet Delia uses sixteen separate ingredients in that recipe. In our view, this simply falls short of expected standards. Why not follow the recipes of Heston Blumenthal? Build a clay tandoor oven in your garden or corridor to recreate his perfect chicken curry. Or you and your chums could have some great bonding time collecting wild escargots for his famous snail porridge. Otherwise, you could at least make ice cream à la Blumenthal with chocolate and liquid nitrogen. Bully someone smaller and poorer than you into stealing the latter from the chemistry department.

Artwork

Silly Milly suggests bringing nails and picture hooks to bang up your favourite paintings. As any fule kno, unless you pay the Dean enough to build a small library in your family name, this is absolutely Not Allowed. Instead, you need to bring things you can put up using drawing pins. Take any early Emin sketches your parents have lying around, or just paper your walls with the weekly cheques they send you as an allowance.

Games

The Telegraph informs us of the need for Scrabble and Monopoly, presumably on those long winter days when one is tired of grouse shooting. Actually, Millard has it right on this one. Invite all your chums over for a game of Monopoly. Obviously, only invite those who can afford to play with real money. Finally, wow them with your canny insider knowledge and wicked ability with the hotels and streets. Well, what did they expect when daddy owns Hilton and you live in Mayfair?