Lying in bed on Sunday nights weeping for the weekend and dreaming of love
Burning time
Pubs on Saturday afternoons
Drinking things that turn your tongue a different colour
Smoking rollies right down to the stub between chewed fingers
Wearing chipped nail-varnish
Being held like a child by your mum
Having the proper ‘Friday feeling’
Thinking you will meet The One at every scuzzy party
Being allowed to lounge in cool places without being stared at quizzically
Sitting on the pavement/on the side of the road and not looking homeless
Wearing your bikini when you run out of clean underwear
Weird one night stands
House parties in Zone 5 where you don’t know a soul
Staying in dirty hostels and having the adventure of your life
Falling asleep in your clothes
Waking up on strange sofas
Minimal work responsibility
Having skin you don’t deserve
Drinking Fanta
Communal, chaotic living
Using fairy-lights to ‘brighten up’ shitty rented rooms
Gossip
No one having any money
Drinking mystery punch
Eating Quavers
‘Bouncing back’ from a hangover after the first beer
Wearing odd socks
Being ‘wild’, not ‘eccentric’
Still believing there’s time to become an astronaut/ballerina if you started tomorrow
Working in media jobs where you have meetings sitting on inflatable flamingos
Listening to sad songs on purpose to make yourself sad
The exhilaration/freedom of getting into a friend’s shit car
Weekend away bags stuffed hurriedly with nothing
Scruffy shoes
Silly glasses
Having liberal friends
Putting your feet up at the front of the bus
Sleeping on car journeys
16-25 railcard
Taking Cosmo quizzes to find out whether you’re Samantha or Carrie
Staying out til 5
Long debriefs with friends about the night before over breakfast
Endless funny group chat conversations
No one ever using the word ‘babysitter’
Long, rambling, stream-of-consciousness phone calls
Crop tops
No one judging you for McDonalds/the cheapest wine
Bearable hangovers
Being so excited about the next thing because it Might Change Everything
Not having to feign interest in other people’s children
Disposable income, spent selfishly
The first phase of love
Written by Matilda Curtis and Jess Bird
Illustrated by Jess Bird