tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22332466.post7727274653994583938..comments2008-05-06T20:16:16.025+09:30audreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07323195108685705355audreyandthebadapples@gmail.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22332466.post-36522965971726890962008-05-06T20:16:00.000+09:302008-05-06T20:16:00.000+09:30Really?!!?!?<BR/><BR/>I agree with Ariel, what are the poor girls supposed to wear on a sunny day with a cool breeze?dothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02948665806519701747noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22332466.post-25397209837192233662008-05-05T12:06:00.000+09:302008-05-05T12:06:00.000+09:30I went to a public school that pretended it was a private school, but without the, you know, infrastructure.<BR/>Our prefects used to love going around and bullying the year eights into wearing the right jumper and tucking their shirts in. Actually, it was mostly tucking their shirts in. <BR/>I fucking hated it when I was a year eight. I desperately wanted to be a prefect when I was in year twelve and was VERY disappointed when I didn't get to be one because it actually meant that I was even more unpopular than I suspected because our prefects weren't picked by the headmasters and teachers, they were VOTED ON by the entire school, Logies-style!<BR/>Of course, when I saw all the actual extra work that prefects had to do (leadership seminars, yard duty, flirting with the old darlings from the Old Girls Association), I felt instantly better that I had no fanboys and girls from the junior school and I also realised why the prefects were so gleefully bossy with us when we were in year eight: because we had voted them into a year of thankless slavery.franzyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02400212989359954521noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22332466.post-21725162704039703422008-05-04T18:53:00.000+09:302008-05-04T18:53:00.000+09:30I went to a public school where girls had their dress above their knickers and blue mascara and no blazer and boys all wore skinny acid wash jeans. I looked at the private school girls with longing, with their natty uniforms and their swishy hair and hockey ankles, but I so would have been jumper girl. Not prefect girl.Pennihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17956453252195293843noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22332466.post-65418386222138093682008-05-04T14:26:00.000+09:302008-05-04T14:26:00.000+09:30How eloquent you are. Made this withered, old (barren) heart pine for that feeling again. Loved it. (she LOVES the column!) Sorry, should probably post this comment on your Sunday Mail blog, but too lazy and have to go watch the soccer before BB. xmscynichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05587003559413239980noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22332466.post-36582418467709426002008-05-04T12:51:00.000+09:302008-05-04T12:51:00.000+09:30Oh, that's just awful. I hate that shit. What a stupid stupid rule anyway. What if it's cold enough for a jumper but not cold enough for a blazer? Pompous crap.<BR/><BR/>My mum is a teacher and I've seen her go up to kids in the local shopping centre and do the same thing. (Which I know is slightly different - at least it's not another kid.) But ... my siblings and I would pretend we weren't with her when she did that.Arielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17570339715916432947noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22332466.post-91826224351908216882008-05-04T10:54:00.000+09:302008-05-04T10:54:00.000+09:30Thank God I went to a scungy public high school in the country.... We had SRC reps (of which I was one) but if we'd even thought about doing such an anal thing to any other students our entrails would have been strewn across the quadrangle.... Our only role (as I understood it) was to work out relatively piss weak ways to fundraise and sometimes stand up at school assemblies to make announcements of the most boring kind. Again - thank god!Kath Locketthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09677312773827236567noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22332466.post-16805529276306791522008-05-04T10:30:00.000+09:302008-05-04T10:30:00.000+09:30That Prefect will grow up to be one of those women who send group emails in the office accusing people of not washing out their cups. <BR/><BR/>The rest of the staff will roll their eyes, ignore her, make fun of her emails and continue to leave their dirty cups in the sink.<BR/><BR/>They also won't go to her parties.<BR/><BR/>Let her enjoy her limited authority while she still can.<BR/><BR/>Incidentally, in reply to your text, if it's Jon Stewart's, I would call it a God Stick too.<BR/><BR/>Anyway, I did try and tell the bumpkins that I'm quite partial for it, but apparently I don't count cause I'm a 36yo, unmarried, barren old maid. Alas, a girl can but dream.<BR/><BR/>Slowly making my way to the shops to get your latest piece. Something to look forward to on a Sunday. Bless your typing fingers. xmscynichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05587003559413239980noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22332466.post-66410985610384934542008-05-03T13:03:00.000+09:302008-05-03T13:03:00.000+09:30My teachers used to do that, but never students. What kind of masochistic Orwellian high school did you go to, Audrey?Jacobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02788823062002371899noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22332466.post-39375505818666230552008-05-03T07:34:00.000+09:302008-05-03T07:34:00.000+09:30Erm, is now the right time to admit that I was my school's Head Prefect....?PetStarrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12134249522902264678noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22332466.post-38772394481464677732008-05-02T22:52:00.000+09:302008-05-02T22:52:00.000+09:30Prefects!<BR/>My school prefects had little red ribbons on their blazers, so were appropriately called Mao's Red Guards (behind their backs, of course).Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00906408042418029924noreply@blogger.com