The Cambridge May Week is a unique and well-deserved rite of passage for us lowly students. During exam season, the flickering zoetropes of exam flashcards burn the back of our retinas, and our skins become translucent after too much exposure to fluorescent library lighting. The May balls, affairs, and parties offer an escape, and are undoubtedly the most idyllic and exclusive social events on the summer schedule.

Unfortunately, this year’s ‘best bits’ will not be filed in the Daily Mail’s online archives. The Tab Cambridge will not titillate images of empty champagne bottles, teetering stilettos, and half-naked chanting torsos flailing around in the River Cam at an ungodly hour of the morning. We all yearn to be tagged in violently hashtagged Instagram posts (#ballin), and to assemble a strong set of selfies to look back on for years to come.

All of us spanning from Girton to Homerton will wallow in disappointment at this year’s cancellations. Worry not Cantabrigians! Here are some Dua Lipa-esque rules to ensure that your Stay-At-Home Ball is up to our colleges’ standards: 

At no point should you utter the forbidden words "unprecedented, uncertainty, furlough"

1: Settle on a dress code.

You have the opportunity to shake things up sartorially. White tie might be too stuffy given the indoor climate - especially if you are anywhere near the airing cupboard. This is ample time to get your creative juices flowing. Do not compromise comfort for couture! Tuxedo jackets and velour joggers are staples for your soirée (imagine Brideshead Revisited meets Shell Suit chic). For those of you already committed to carnival costume, you are always a VIP at your very own Couch-ella. 

2: Reserve an appropriate area in your home to host your ball. 

Choose the room with the most corners! These quarters will emulate the various sites that form the May Ball and will house your bars and food stations. Equally, if you are posh enough to have a south facing garden, take advantage of it! Your parents might even agree to binge-watch Vera in their room instead, giving you ownership of a whole floor.

3: Do not skimp on the hors d'oeuvres. 

Truffle fry and churros vans will not frequent your dad’s new AstroTurf, so instead rediscover the old party classics (cheese hedgehog and Wagon Wheels come to mind). Beverages should be fun ‘n’ zesty, with citrus notes. Think cartons of Pornstar Martini, cans of Mojito, and frozen rosés (frozés). Missing the paella stand? Reach for the Uncle Bens instead. Aromi? It’s got nothing on a good ol’ potato smiley.  

4: Collate tunes for your perfect playlist.

Selecting your own pop pick-me-ups will safeguard you from any mid-evening disappointments. Cambridge parties are renowned for chiming cheesy tunes, and terrifically cringe worthy tribute acts (remember Daft Punk at Downing?). With your stamp on the set-up, you won’t have to worry about the naff nineties. Forward your finalised list to your invitees, and then pamper yourself silly in preparation for the big night! Set your laptop up on the bathroom basin, log into Netflix, and start transforming yourself into a May Ball goer. 

5: Circulate the party invites. 

Now that you have a perfect playlist, sufficient space, and are getting glam – all you need is a group of friends to share lockdown May Week with! Send out your Zoom deets to all of your college pals, and make sure to upgrade if you don’t want the inconvenience of forty-minute intervals. Fun fact: Zoom has a breakaway feature, permitting you some alone time with that special someone should Cupid’s arrow fly on the night. But beware! If you are feeling particularly amorous, remain coy… Your screen might freeze while you are checking them out.  

6: Get going! 

Madonna once said, “Only when I’m dancing can I feel this free! At night I lock the door where no one else can see!” Bolt that door, accept those in your virtual waiting room, and commence the carnage, but be wary of any fragile family heirlooms in the vicinity. At no point should you utter the forbidden words “unprecedented, uncertainty, furlough”, and instead toast with conviction to the stormy year you have weathered. Now it is time to let loose… lounge-style. We may not be swaying around a college quad in a champagne haze, but we have those with whom we poured over literature in Tudor turrets, cycled to Sidge, and braved it at brunch after long evenings at Life. As the evening wanes into a delirious dawn, assemble for your 2020 ‘Survivors Screenshot’, a veritable relic by which to remember the evening.  

There you have it! Your house might not be Peterhouse but you are bound to have a May Week to remember. Bumper cars and billiard rooms might not be on the cards, and Ikea rugs will replace red carpets, but do not forget that your time so far at Cambridge has otherwise been pretty damn fabulous.