‘Standard’ velvet hangers? There’s nothing standard about some of the items on John Lewis’s uni essentials list| Emma Beddington
It used to be that dorm rooms were chaotically messy, writes Emma Beddington. Does this new generation really need an £80 spice rack and velvet clothes hangers?
Of all the questions this year’s freshers may be nervously asking themselves as they prepare for this next phase – did I pick the right course? Will I make friends? Is uni worth 30 grand when my future job prospects may be limited to dusting a datacentre? – one is particularly pressing: “How many clothes hangers do I need to bring?”
Fret no longer, enquiring young minds: John Lewis has the answer on its packing checklist for students. Thirty to 40, it claims, wildly, “consisting mostly of standard velvet or plastic hangers”. “Standard” velvet? I missed this memo.
I found the list via the student news site the Tab, which posted a TikTok mocking J-Lew’s notions of what constitute “essentials”: a £495 Marc Jacobs bag, a £399 desk and an £80 spice rack carousel (I also spotted a £185 Ralph Lauren quarter-zip for those must-attend “man in finance” costume parties).
In fairness, most of the stuff on there is fine, but the Stanley cups and shower squeegees conjure a slightly dispiriting picture of wellness-focused, sensible, hygienic youth. I know that’s their generation’s reputation, but it would be nice if parents could be persuaded not to stock up, instead letting them go rogue and fill their kitchens, bathrooms and bedrooms with chaotically impractical stuff they choose themselves. Isn’t that what early adulthood is all about?
I’m optimistic, based on my own experiences: you needed a hazmat suit, not a shower squeegee, for my elder son’s student bathroom; the main feature of the younger’s kitchen was the Death-Star-sized air fryer he and his flatmates won at bingo.
He’s back home, post-graduation, and the surviving uni purchases are all over the house: deflated duvets, half-melted spatulas, singed tea towels. I WhatsApped to ask if there was anything particularly good or bad. It was mostly fine, he replied (from his bedroom), although the colourful multipurpose pan I was influenced into buying in a moment of emotional weakness proved underwhelming. The real “door-opener”, apparently, was a kilo bag of Belgian chocolate chips I got him, so that is my freshers “essential” tip: social currency (and a delicious snack) for £18.99.
• Emma Beddington is a Guardian columnist
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