St Dominic’s School for Girls, Brewood, Staffordshire, was the independent institution my parents chose due to my unhealthy appetite at the local comp for misbehaving and hanging out with less ambitious peers….oh, and I was a bit thick so needed some help!
So they handed me over to Sister Helen who lovingly threw me into a class of what can only be described as a well-established gang of alpha females, who were out to make each St Dominic’s teacher’s lives a misery…also known as Class WARD – I have no idea why our class was called Ward…might have been a place within some sort of hospital or something, (as mentioned, I was a bit thick). I loved and hated these strong characters in equal measure – they made me laugh ’til tears streamed down my spotty cheeks, but they also made me feel hugely inadequate. I was the bumpkin who literally came from a tiny sleepy little village, rode horses, reared goats and lambs and socialised with my equally bumpkin sister – so being part of Ward was a little daunting to say the least.
Firstly, most of them came from wealth; they were incredibly fashion savvy, wore silk Chantelle teddies, went to proper hairdressers who would perm them a decent curly bob on demand and would always look ‘sparkly’ when we had a school disco – (labels from the day were Dash, Next and OuiSet – diamante brooches and white silky patterned shirts with pearls and maybe a Fergie Bow… in velvet)!
Needless to say, I never kept in touch with any of them, which is sad really – I never felt I had much in common with most of the girls – and to be honest I haven’t really thought about them until… my sister recently decided to hold a reunion with her class. This event will be held next year, and I’m gate-crashing along with one other of the naughtiest Ward reprobates known to the Dominican Sisterhood…Estelle. She was possibly the most ALPHA of all the females in the class, was always picked first for Hockey, Netball, Volleyball… oh you name it, she was just picked… we’re an unlikely pair, but we now converse regularly on Facebook and I love that.
Although I was one of the quieter ones at St Doms, (yes my friends, I was quiet once), I came away with 7 O’ Level grade GCSE’s, and became a much stronger character for meeting these girls who have since, as far as I know, become incredibly successful women. So I’m glad my parents made that choice – as far as a reunion though, I’m not sure Ward will ever do it, but I will report back from my sister’s… think they were called Webster… Again, I have NO idea why these classes were called these names… but then I’m still a tiny bit thick!!