Me and the purse-belt rebellion

There were only so many ways that school uniform could be customised - sophisticated girls wore American  tan tights (any other colour was strictly verboten) and rebels wore black pullovers rather than the regulation grey.  We were frequently lectured about the importance of maintaining a good uniform (honour of the school,  not looking like slappers) and there were regular uniform inspections with dire consequences if found wanting.

Some bright spark suggested we should wear the correct elements of the uniform, but mix things up a bit (I bet she became a lawyer).  So one Friday at break time,  along with most of the girls in Year 8,  I took off my tie and fastened  it around my waist.  Then the particularly ugly grey purse-belts we wore around our waists were worn as necklaces.  We all wander around the school giggling like idiots and feel quite secure as there was safety in numbers as Slipper Woman couldn't whack  all the girls in our year.

My hero

Our insurrection did not go unnoticed - we were summonded to the hall and the deputy head asked the instigator to stand up to save the rest of us from punishment.

I would like to say that we re-enacted the famous scene from Spartacus and that girl after girl stood up to say 'I am the purse-belt rebel'.  (Isn't Kirk Douglas lovely in that scene, a little bedraggled and dusty, but that manly tear so makes up for his lack of grooming.  Not so keen on the pants, but suppose slaves couldn't be picky).

Back to the hall - no one owned up so we all had a lunchtime detention.  Uniform rules were rewritten to specify what part of the body a particular item could adorn.

Me, maths and Rhett Butler

Strangely I am put in the top class for maths at secondary school - either a case of mistaken identity or someone with a twisted sense of humour?  It seems to have escaped my teachers that maths has escaped me - but there was no hiding it when it came to public exams at 16.

The exams are a bit of a chore, but the best thing is that when we have finished a paper we are allowed to give it in and then sit quietly reading a book.  I am reading 'Gone with the Wind' and am obsessed with Rhett Butler (who in my imagination looks nothing like Clark Gable - I was utterly traumatised when I saw the film - much too smooth - no five o'clock shadow - anyway enough of my fevered imaginings...).

On the day of the maths exam I have got to a good bit in the book and can't wait to get back to Rhett.
'Oh Rhett,' - I'm saying that in my fluttery Scarlett O'Hara voice  - 'Oh Rhett, you are such a bad man!'  - these aren't Scarlett's actual words for any purists - just my interpretation of what she should have said, then they'd have got together quite a bit earlier.  Actually this talking to characters from books is becoming quite addictive - must do it more often - definitely Captain Wentworth next.  Slight dilemma do I stick to calling him Captain Wentworth or Frederick - don't want to be thought forward?

Anyway I speed through the simultaneous equations as the siren call of Mr Butler tempts me from the path of righteousness (Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn - sorry, so couldn't resist that).

When the results appeared in August it was not surprisingly that I have failed maths (so you don't think I am utterly sad I have to assure you that Rhett didn't have a negative effect on my other exams - my inner swot won out against the lure of literature).

I retake the exam twice in the Lower Sixth to no avail.  In desperation I am sent to a private tutor who happens to live in Christ Church - one of the Oxford colleges.  I am not thrilled to spend sunny afternoons doing maths, but I am thrilled to find out that the room where I sit was lived in by the Liddell family (Alice 'in Wonderland' Liddell).  Also that Lewis Carroll possibly sat on the same chair as me (not at the same time -that would have been creepy).  Oddly enough Carroll's academic field was mathematics - this confirming (to me anyway)  the rumours that there was something dubious about him.  I spend a fair bit of time talking to my tutor about Carroll - it is very interesting, the maths less so.

Inevitably I fail again.