Things I remember:
Entering the form room for the first time and seeing only one face I recognised. My heart sank because I knew she was posh - I’d seen her once when our Sunday Schools combined and she’d worn a hat! Susan, my apologies for prejudice.
Indoor and outdoor shoes from Clarks (and ne’er the twain shall cross). AND an initialled shoe bag!
The weird collar of our summer frocks. Compulsory but a bugger to sew (not that my mum ever used the word but she did say it was a ‘difficult’ pattern, someone who could do anything with a sewing machine!)
Miss Waterlow entering the classroom for our first History lesson, clambering up the dais and sitting cross-legged on the lectern (!!), tweed skirt and knitted stockings regardless, lecturing us about Amnesty International and the need to understand the world around us through its history - then going on to teach us about irrelevant medieval monasteries. But I thought it was Miss Freeman who taught us the modern stuff like the burning of the Reichstag?
Our first hockey lesson. Being hit on the back of the head by some unknown show-off who knew how to flick the ball. After that, I opted for left or right back, preferably goalkeeper, where the action was minimal. My mum’s heart was broken - she’d played for Surrey Juniors at 13 and hockey kit was her priority when it came to uniform purchases. One barely used stick and two reluctantly worn boots. Sorry Mum.
Believing the Prize Day award of a day off before Christmas was really because we’d done so well, not that the staff wanted to go Christmas shopping. Feeling sorry for Miss Morton because she ‘wasn’t allowed’ to wear a gown like the other teachers on stage because she’d not been to university - and vowing never to be so humiliated, by never becoming a teacher (ha ha). I’ve never actually worn a cap and gown, despite everything. As Dennis said when asked what he wore to get his degree: “My pyjamas.”
Our first hockey lesson. Being hit on the back of the head by some unknown show-off who knew how to flick the ball. After that, I opted for left or right back, preferably goalkeeper, where the action was minimal. My mum’s heart was broken - she’d played for Surrey Juniors at 13 and hockey kit was her priority when it came to uniform purchases. One barely used stick and two reluctantly worn boots. Sorry Mum.
Believing the Prize Day award of a day off before Christmas was really because we’d done so well, not that the staff wanted to go Christmas shopping. Feeling sorry for Miss Morton because she ‘wasn’t allowed’ to wear a gown like the other teachers on stage because she’d not been to university - and vowing never to be so humiliated, by never becoming a teacher (ha ha). I’ve never actually worn a cap and gown, despite everything. As Dennis said when asked what he wore to get his degree: “My pyjamas.”
4 different Chemistry teachers in the third form, ending with Mrs Cassirer who I didn’t know could teach - and the need to lower the passmark to 40% to get enough of us through, thus maintaining my 100% record of exam passes brought to a halt at university when I got 16% for economics (and 25% on resit - they lowered the passmark so we could move up to year 2!). There was a good reason - lectures were at 9am. I attended 2 all year. How careless we were of our education then.
Pippa H trying to get us to play horses in the playground. We were 11. I hated horses, had never been on one and, even at that age, thought it seriously uncool.
Being alphabetically so close to Sandra H so I had to grit my teeth through every exam as she breathed heavily through her mouth.
Only ever coming first in one exam in all those years, and that was RE, tying with C who I’d watched cheating. Oh the pain and injustice - I only needed one success to be happy.
Being alphabetically so close to Sandra H so I had to grit my teeth through every exam as she breathed heavily through her mouth.
Only ever coming first in one exam in all those years, and that was RE, tying with C who I’d watched cheating. Oh the pain and injustice - I only needed one success to be happy.
Derrian W claiming she was pregnant when she had a man’s hankie stuffed up her jumper. I didn’t know whether to feel contempt or pity. I settled for bemusement.
Aeolus and his bag of winds - and Miss Andrews pretending she didn't know why we were suppressing hysteria.
Decorating the teacher’s chair at Christmas by adding angel wings and a halo - and the tears of humiliation that came to Miss Freeman’s eyes. I never understood how disempowered she felt in our presence. There were classes I hated as a teacher but I never felt helpless. Our bullying (as she reflected when we went on the Italian trip) was nothing to what was going on in the real world of education!
Jane W’s mother arriving at the cathedral in a real fur coat.
Singing our hearts out in assembly to Non Nobis Domine (in your case, mouthing?).
The assembly on the exact angle to wear our red hats, faced with the perils of backcombing and wide headbands, thanks to the Tennant sisters and the Bone twins.
Singing our hearts out in assembly to Non Nobis Domine (in your case, mouthing?).
The assembly on the exact angle to wear our red hats, faced with the perils of backcombing and wide headbands, thanks to the Tennant sisters and the Bone twins.
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| How do you fit a red bowler hat on that?? |
Me and another miscreant putting talc on our faces after extras at lunchtime so we might go to sick bay and miss lessons. The closest I got to naughty, I think, except our giggles in History over MPs on the floor and various other lewd (to a 14yo) scenarios.
Never, not even now, being able to spell Miss Mdreski’s name and the nightmare of getting my mum to write a note so I could go to the dentist, knowing the correct format was required but unable to help with the spelling.
Never, not even now, being able to spell Miss Mdreski’s name and the nightmare of getting my mum to write a note so I could go to the dentist, knowing the correct format was required but unable to help with the spelling.
The tuck shop, with the sophisticated cheese and pineapple on a cocktail stick. Food hygiene’s nightmare.
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| How cool was this! |
Miss Morton humiliating me, once by summoning me to the front and telling everyone how arrogant I was to mark my own work as perfect (David had marked it in pencil without my knowing - and it was without error!); once by informing me in no uncertain terms that it was gross bad manners to avoid your form teacher’s eyes in the street and the proper behaviour was to say “Good afternoon, Miss Morton.” Then demanding I repeat it after her.
Sexy Rexy’s bandy legs
The nightmare of being trapped in the pottery studio with Miss Martin. I still have the pottery figure of a woman that successfully fired - and it’s her idea of a woman (fat).
Miss Martin telling me I was cynical. My eyes welled up, even though I didn’t know what it mean lol. I was 11 for god’s sake! She was right of course.
Christine and me in perpetual competition for Good Work Marks for Tudor House - you were in Hanover, Lesley and Susan in Windsor...
Initials 2 inches square, embroidered in chain stitch of the appropriate House colour onto every bloody item of PE wear, including the ghastly woollen gym skirt, measuring 4 inches from the floor when kneeling. Then we grew up and they were minis - there was method in that madness
Initials 2 inches square, embroidered in chain stitch of the appropriate House colour onto every bloody item of PE wear, including the ghastly woollen gym skirt, measuring 4 inches from the floor when kneeling. Then we grew up and they were minis - there was method in that madness
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| The trope |
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| The reality |
Above all, our friendships over all those years - you, Susan, Lesley and me; later Pat, even later Anne and Hilary as we were beginning to head in different directions - and all along, so many others like Julie (Wibnof), Katalin, Cilla, Mair, Christine, Alison, Elizabeth, Alison, Jane, Gail who won all our prizes.... and our form teachers with their work cut out. Mrs Friend told us after A levels that she’d been warned we were “a little bit strange.” ROFL.
Lovely not to write anything about health (apart from the talcum powder bit). I could go on and on..... I’ll answer the questions after tomorrow’s MRI. Ooops, it snuck in ;)
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