IF students were asked to give their three stresses of university life, I'm pretty sure that money (or the lack of it) would be on the top of most lists.

Despite student loans, overdrafts and grants, there's always something to spend cash on - books, food, bus fares, a spot of socialising - it's a constant battle to keep yourself from plunging further into debt.

And because of these struggles with cash flows, students have adopted some great money saving and money-making techniques.

For example, in freshers' week, it's common for students to blow a large proportion of their term's budget on endless pub crawls and other social events.

So, to tighten the belt, instead of having pre drinks in a pub, pre drinks are had at home, where five people can chip in on a cheap bottle of vodka and get tipsy for less.

And to bring in a bit of extra income, there's always the likes of Ebay and Amazon, where old books can be sold or must have books can be bought on the cheap.

But while most of us have been scrimping our way through university, living the stereotypical Pot Noodle diet, one of our fellow students has been living the high life with an estimated income of £100,000 per year.

But she's not been juggling her studies with a well paid internship nor has she had numerous part time jobs - she's simply been keeping four sugar daddies sweet.

I almost choked on my cornflakes when I read about the life of Louisa Pickett, a final year law student at our university who told a tabloid newspaper about her extra curricular activities.

The pretty blonde revealed how she found her time as a checkout girl at Tesco's tedious and tiresome and was desperate to make money quickly without having to deal with irate customers.

She, like most other students also quickly came to the realisation that any part time job with its measly minimum wage wasn't even going to cover her stationery costs at university.

So, she did a quick Google search (like most probably have) on get rich quick ideas.

Among the many unsavoury ways of making a fortune fast, she came across one that she found particularly sweet called sugardaddies.com.

It boasts of being the place where the classy, attractive and affluent can meet other elite members of society.

Girls, or sugar babes as they're called on screen all have their own profiles so prospective sugar daddies can take their pick from girls such as "heavenNhell", "Im-a-cutie" and "hotlips4u".

And with her good looks, Louisa, whose screen name is Blondebabe123 was soon inundated with messages and received interest from four sugar daddies: Mr Ferrari, Mr Stock Broker, Mr Rich Boss and Mr Mystery who all like nothing more than to spend large amounts of cash on her.

But while she happily accepts gifts of fancy underwear, Diesel jeans and Gucci shoes, she told the tabloid how it's up to her whether she wants to take things further or not.

I couldn't help it.

I was practically choking on my cereal when I read about Louisa's novel job.

I find the idea of what these daddies want from her after treating her to such luxuries a tad creepy.

But it seems that I am something of a prude.

I showed the article to a group of friends and they hardly batted an eyelid with the exception of one who grabbed the page to jot down the web address so she could join the site immediately.

As one friend argued, anyone who says that Louisa is doing anything untoward is just jealous.

And I suppose it is easy to envy her.

She probably has more designer handbags than Victoria Beckham and her wardrobe is most likely to be shy of the typical buy-one-get-one free sale items that hang in most student closets.

And it's not just her wardrobe that turns most girls green; she also has a social life that would make most IT girls double over with envy.

For example, while many birthday girls are treated to a meal and a few drinks by their boyfriends, one sugar daddy hired a limo to whisk Louisa and her friends away to London for the night to celebrate her 21st.

But although it sounds like the perfect fairytale, isn't it much nicer to live within our means?

To go to cheap night Tuesday at the cinema or to make do with a cheap pair of Primark pumps if that's all we can afford?

Personally, I'd much prefer to save my pennies for a designer pair of shoes rather than have them as a hand out from man I hardly know.

That way, when I'm walking down the high street I can admire my heels in the reflection of shop windows knowing that I've paid for every inch of my beauties.

But apparently, I'm in the minority.

I was outvoted by my friends who all agreed that if these men are willing to deliver the goods, then what's wrong with that?

Still, it's what goods Louisa has to deliver that I find a bit creepy.

But as long as she keeps safe and sensible then good luck to her.

For me, I'll just keep on buying my £1 lucky dip and hope that my numbers will come up.

But until then, I'm quite happy to enjoy the short time I have left at university as a skint student with cheap vodka and equally skint friends - that's sweet enough for me.

n Sarah Harvey is a journalism student at the University of Hertfordshire.