In a previous blog I spoke all about my time in high school…
I’m flying all the way back onto memory lane and this time heading straight to the tender age of 16 (maybe 17) and joining Sixth Form.
You all knew what I was like at high school, a girl with foundation lips, Nike tracksuits and ratty hair extensions. Before sixth form, I’d only been in small catholic schools, this time I was joining a non-religious sixth form pretty much everyone had already been to the high school and little old me was joining knowing hardly any fucker there.
The good thing is, my hockey club was in the same area so I knew the girls on my team.
So I joined, with the only other person from my high school Sarah, unfortunately we were in different forms but at least we were in the same BTEC class.
There was 2 BTEC classes, and in total 8 girls across the whole year, so I had to expend my horizon and met some lovely friends that weren’t on my course.
Me and Sarah spent most of our days laughing, in black uniform regulated PE kits (obviously all the boys fancied us in them), and walking to and from Sainsbury’s on our free periods buying shit loads of food.
I got a boyfriend, ha. We used to get the train in every day and rock the black tracksuits together. He was nice, I guess. Anyway, long story short devil dick cheated on me, so that ended shortly after. As we were in the same class 24/7, 5 days a week, I decided the best option for me was to move classes.
I moved to the opposite class, so it was goodbye to Sarah and hello to Jess, Charlotte and Kate. I was already in form with Jess and Kate, and was actually on the same hockey team as Jess outside of sixth form so it wasn’t a really hard move.
I got used to my new time table, and ballooning around in the pavilion with my new mates. I don’t know why it was called the pavilion, but if you don’t know Cheshire (where my sixth form was) is a really posh place so they have weird names for places there.
Can you even believe at 17 and 18 I was getting detentions for picking up my phone in class? My cocky attitude didn’t last long at this school, unlike my high school the place was pretty strict.
As well as actually studying and going to classes, myself and my mates would spend a lot of time going to parties, racing down the A34 in our first cars, and using fake ID in Manchester’s clubs.
We had great opportunities though and did loads of fun things whilst we were there. One being the annual fashion show, the boutiques in Wilmslow would give us outfits to wear and then we’d get our makeup and hair professionally done. I still remember my outfit now. Patterned tights, a long t shirt dress, heels I couldn’t walk in and a big fuck off black jacket with tassel’s galore – fucking hideous.
I absolutely loved my time at sixth form, and fully appreciate the people I met there. Unfortunately as you get older and life moves on people don’t tend to always stay in contact so I only speak to a handful of girlfriends I met over the 2 years there.
Love you and leave you,