The Bubble Within The Bubble

In a town where everyone is two mutuals apart, one conversation away, why are we so obsessed with keeping people out?

There’s a particular kind of invitation that circulates in St Andrews before a certain sort of event. It arrives quietly, as an elusive email, a Facebook invite, or even a note slipped under your door. Nobody announces they’ve been invited. They simply let it be known. 

St Andrews, as you may have noticed, is small. Three streets, one Tesco, and a West Sands where you will inevitably run into your current situationship while on a coffee date with another. You cannot buy a meal deal in peace without awkwardly smiling at someone from your 9am Thursday tutorial who has seen you at your worst. In a city, exclusivity at least makes sense — too many people, too few pockets of comfort. Here, there’s no such excuse. There’re barely enough people to keep out, and yet, we do. 

Nowhere is this clearer than in my favourite genre of the St Andrews invite: the culturally themed event. Over the past year, I've seen ostentatious displays of heritage within the confines of the great melting pot that is Fife. After five shots of aquavit, you could almost believe you were in Stockholm rather than surrounded by beautiful blondes in Fife. A few weeks later, the same faces reappear in express-shipped authentic dirndls and lederhosen, clutching comically large steins. The country changes, but the guest list remains the same. 

These events are just a part of the international university experience. Primarily student-run, they're a slice of home for students who’ve travelled a long way to be here, and a door for the rest of us who are curious. 

But the thing that ought to get you in, actually being Swedish or knowing the words to the drinking songs, is rarely what does. All you’ve got to know is skål and prost. So you end up in a room celebrating Scandinavia, surrounded by people from Surrey, while someone who grew up eating crayfish every August sits at home in halls, wondering why nobody asked. The culture is the theme, the guest list is the point. 

I think it’s far from malicious. People invite their friends, and their friends run in the same circles — the Social 200 is at work. Nobody sits down to draw up a list of who to keep out. It just writes itself, and in a town this small, an invitation feels less like a badge of honour than the next step in a friendship. But when the same few hundred people keep inviting each other, it creates a bubble within the Bubble. 

So imagine if someone completely outside of this usual circle got the email? A few strangers at the table make for more stories and a better night to be had. 

None of this means you should resent the parties you walk past. Some invitations will get lost in the mail, and some doors will not open. The beauty lies in trusting there’s a seat at tables you didn't know existed, and that you are exactly where you belong. What’s meant for you won’t pass you by, and St Andrews has such a rich and vast social scene that there’s truly something for everyone. The greatest experiences lie in the overlap when you go somewhere full of strangers. There’s real beauty in being lost — you’d be surprised how quickly you're found. 

Illustration by Elizabeth Lang