dRAG WALK: Season Six invited the students of St Andrews to the table, and when the food was finally served, the host stood up and said, “Tuck in!”. On the menu? Fish. Now, typically, I am somewhat closeminded about Club 601, but the audience of Saints LGBT’s dRAG Walk was rather more clothes-minded, and consequently the event was a glorious phantasmagoria of colour, sound and campy behaviour. With a purple Pablo in each hand, the honorary drink of RAG Week, my friends and I (severely underdressed) tenaciously approached the catwalk, curious about the evening’s paw-sibilities. Following a quick succession of risqué tunes, see Khia’s My Neck, My Back (Lick It), and a pastiche of slut-drops and flexible hip gyrations, the time had come for the kings and queens of St Andrews to offer up their filthiest, fiercest fashion for consumption, in the style of this university’s most glamorous fashion extravaganzas; riotously proving their wit and intellect are just as sharp as their contour.