Nightclub
by Tasha Stewart
In the words of Chappel Roan, “Never waste a Friday night on a first date.” Likewise, never waste a Friday night on a desolate flat party.
Whilst they can be a riot, there is simply no definitive guarantee of a good night. The speaker is rarely ever loud enough, the booze is thin on the ground, and attendance can be patchy or, at worst, non-existent. If I choose to club, I know exactly what I’m signing up for. When Monday rolls around Subway will be chock-a-block with drag queens and pop classics. Come Tuesday, I can get my fill of D&B at Subway. If I want to be surrounded by Stone Island and the stench of fake tan, I’ll take myself to WhyNot on a Wednesday. The list of course rolls on.
Any night of the week I can pull together a group of my nearest and dearest and set sail on a drunken voyage down the Cowgate strip (not quite Las Vegas but close enough). I can satisfy myself with alcohol sold past 10pm, and make friends for life (or for at least an evening) in a smoking area. Give me Bongos on a Tuesday, Cab Vol on a Friday, and I’m there in a flash.
Flat parties, however, increasingly fill me with dread. Cannon fodder for the presumptive main event that is the club, I’m usually sober, bored, and desperate for a proper dance.
Oh, Cowgate! Be still my beating heart! Flat party, be gone.
Flat Party
by Ross Doran
One of the unspoken joys of leaving student accommodation in second-year is the flat party. Gone are the days of sneaking past your grotty first-year flatmate who insists on no noise past 10 and reaches for any excuse to summon Campus security to shut down your midnight shenanigans.
The club night forces you to venture out into Edinburgh’s dingy midnight streets, to spend another disappointing night contributing to Liquid Room’s foul odour with overpriced booze and a battalion of creepy 60-year-olds giving you eyes across the dance floor.
The flat party presents a solution to all these problems, no 60-year-olds, plenty of alcohol you can skive off, no strange odour, and your lovely, cosy bed mere meters away.
Dressing up in whatever eclectic garments you can muster to fit the theme, the ability to have a proper good natter plus a good boogie means that the flat party remains far superior to being swarmed by sweaty freshers one VK away from spewing all over your best flares. Better to slay it up indoors than brave Edinbrugh’s torrid weather.
Image via Ross Doran