A Back to School Blog (when I realise how big a geek I am)

Spending some time in the city centre last year, I was jolted back twenty years as I overheard a conversation.

“You want that? For school? Hmm. You know what. Fine…”

As a teenager gleefully carried the zip up tunic dress to the cash desk I had a sneaky smile at the mother and daughter doing battle over school uniform. There were similar discussions going on all over Dundee city centre last week as debates were had over sweatshirt or cardigan, shirts or polo-shirts and of course trainers or shoes!

I remember a love-hate feeling about the Back to School shop. I hated that it was advertised from the minute the school bell rang on the last day of term when all I wanted to think about was sunshine, watching ‘Saved by the Bell’ and eating Pop Tarts for breakfast. I did not like the queue in Clarks Shoes when I was at primary school, or the over-heated schoolwear department of Marks and Spencer. As I got older I took more of an interest because it became much more important to get it just right – grey or black skirt (never trousers!), fitted shirts (my mum hated those) and of course backpack or tote bag?! I think I usually got it right – but for the year before and everyone else had moved on. Never mind, it wasn’t a fashion show as I was always reminded. The real place I could show flair was in Woolworths.

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What did I learn from the Spice Girls? Looking back to being 12 and Girl Power

Twenty years since the summer the Spice Girls landed. That’s a number that festers! I still remember that summer so well.

I loved the Spice Girls. When Wannabe came out, my sisters and I watched the music TV channel, The Box, non-stop. We even knew the three-digit code that showed someone has just called to hear Wannabe and got excited. I was twelve. The girls had a better excuse – they were six and five.

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14

The first in a series, Girlhood.

If there is an age in life that most of us would not want to repeat, it is likely to be 14. Awkward, slouching, uncomfortable 14.

At lunchtimes, I would go to my Gran and Grandad’s house. It was convenient having them at the other side of the school gates. There was just the small matter of getting through the gates first. School gates were the domain of other girls. Smoking girls. Girls with lads. Girls wearing foundation. It was like walking through the lionesses’ den.

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