Guest Post: Stirling Silver (A Male Perspective)

This week we asked what men think of Stirling and invited Mr Meme Specialist to write a special post for us. This is what he has to say on the town…

Stirling is a classy word. It’s one letter away from Sterling, as in Sterling Silver, or the British currency. I associate the word Sterling with other posh terms like “Jaguar”, “Croquet”, “Grandfather Clock”, or “British Racing Green”. I wish I was writing a blog post about Sterling because that would be cool. But alas, I am not. When you stick an I in Stirling, it becomes something different.

After four years of living here, the word Stirling now conjures up images of bored weekend Neds skulking around outside the chip shop, part-time troublemakers shouting indeterminate threats at each other that they never have the guts to go through with, and possibly-homeless people trying to scam you for “20p fae a bus tae Alloa” every other time you head into town. Stirling is many things, but classy is certainly not one of them. Yet, I enjoy living here. How so, you ask? Be quiet, let me finish, and I’ll tell you.

The key to enjoying Stirling, as with anything, is to accept it for what it is. If you’re a highly-strung urban socialite accustomed to the finer things in life, then you have no business being here unless you’re prepared to slum it to an extent. Go to Bridge of Allan, that’s where everyone who ‘makes it’ ends up. In Stirling you have to accept that everything’s going to be a bit second-rate. Once you embrace that fact, you’ll probably have a great time.

A typical Stirling night out involves booze from Tesco, a fairly crappy pub, a crowded club (you have a total of two to chose from, by the way – and two more in Bridge of Allan) playing a Radio 1 playlist and some kind of greasy takeaway food (this will be the top-notch exception that proves the second-rate rule, by the way – I will not hear a word said against my favourite chippy). It’s always entertaining, however, so long as you’re with a good crowd. Of course it’s not Covent Garden or Manhattan. It’s not supposed to be. It really is Stirling Silver – sure, it’s not golden, but would you honestly complain if you won a silver medal?

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