I went to Northampton High School for Girls, a public school in the centre of town. When I was in the last year of middle school (in what would now be Year 8) my Mum saw an advertisement in the local paper inviting prospective pupils to sit the entrance exam. She left it up to me, but as I didn’t have any special friends to follow to one of the local schools, I decided to go ahead and sit the exam and see what happened. I was offered a scholarship place soon after, and a few months later, set off in search of school uniform in readiness for the start of the school year.
Most of the uniform had to be purchased from Saunderson’s, a specialist uniform shop on Kettering Road. The list of clothing was very specific – black blazer with school badge, pale blue rever collar blouses, royal blue V neck jumpers, blue checkered skirts (very flarey, knee length and horrific), navy blue knickers (seriously!) and navy duffel coat. PE uniform was navy netball skirt, pale blue aertex shirt (like a polo shirt), and a black drawstring PE bag, onto which we had to sew our initials in yellow thread. And a green science coat, again embroidered with our initials in yellow. There were optional regulation Summer dresses which were also a very ugly shape in a busy blue patterned material. The dress and skirt materials were available to buy on large rolls in the shop, and fortunately, my Mum was very handy with a sewing machine, and made me a much straighter and slightly shorter skirt, and a more fitted Summer dress to wear in my second year. A year of being teased as I walked to the bus stop in Links View, from the bus station to school, and then the reverse at the end of the day was about as much as I could bear.
We would fold our skirts over at the waistband to make them even shorter, which also meant that they weren’t visible below our duffle coats. There are a few photographs of us on school trips, wearing the delightful uniform.
My favourite was taken on a bridge at Burghley House, pulling moonies. And although my dress was perhaps tighter and a bit shorter than my friends’, this worked in the favour of modesty on this occasion, as everyone else was able to easily flash their knickers for all to see, whereas mine was a bit too fitted. I am on the left. And the others? That’s for you to guess, although a couple of blog favourites, Singapore Sally and Beccles Bec may have been present.
We were all united in our misery at being made to wear such a dreadful uniform, particularly those of us who were unfortunate enough to have to use public transport, but school was otherwise a joyous experience.
The High School was located on Derngate, a busy road close to the centre of town. The school owned a number of the buildings on one side of the street, between Victoria Promenade and Albion Place, most of which are still standing today. The most famous, known then as MacIntosh House has now been restored to its former glory, as 78 Derngate, the only house in England to have been refurbished by Charles Rennie MacIntosh. During our school days we were unaware of the history or significance of the building, which was neglected and dreary and a nuisance to get to, especially on rainy days because it was one of the furthest from main school. It was a grotty, tumbledown house, with attics and deserted rooms which were out of bounds; a green light to nosy school kids.
On the corner of Derngate and Victoria Promenade was a big white building called Becket House, overlooking Becket’s Park. This was where music lessons were held, and it now houses ‘The Dining Room’, a tea rooms attached to 78 Derngate. Behind the main frontage were other buildings including the science blocks, art block and a few mobile classrooms. Further up the street was Towerfield, the Junior School, and then the main school buildings on several floors, many of them subterranean. There was a big white front door which opened onto the street, although only staff and sixth formers were allowed to use it. The classrooms were big and airy with huge windows and old fashioned desks with holes for inkwells and lift up lids.
In lessons, every time a member of staff entered or left the room, the girls all had to stand up. I had never come across this before and it really took me by surprise the first few times it happened. I look back now and think how nice that was, and wonder if I can introduce it at home. And maybe they could curtsey too. The reality is of course that I can’t even get any of them to look up from their phones when I am talking to them. If only I was in charge, what a different world it would be……..
In the main school, the classrooms all had wooden floors, big old wall cupboards and staircases everywhere, with handrails worn smooth by thousands of hands running up and down them on a daily basis. There was a staircase next to the headteacher’s office which led up to a tiny little career’s office on the roof. It had a window which opened up onto the roof, and was big enough for us to climb through, and sunbathe during Summer months.
Romanticising, as I am prone to do, I believe that Hogwarts may have been based on Derngate, with its magnificent staircases, hidey holes and grandeur (which may have been exaggerated in my naïve mind, coming as I did from Parklands Middle school, a 1970s single storey characterless school with no soul). Words in general use were completely unknown to me, like ‘the oubliette stairs’, and ‘divinity’ (which was RE), and even the names of year groups. I thought I would be going into the Third Year (which would now be called Year 9), then onto Fourth Year and Fifth Year before entering Sixth Form. But at the High School, I started in the Upper Fourths, then into Lower Fifths and Upper Fifths. And every day, we went to ‘Prayers’ instead of assembly, which always finished with ‘Grace’, another new concept to me. I can really identify with Harry Potter, entering a new world where everything was a bit strange, as I think that’s how I felt initially. There was also an unusual smell, particularly pungent on a Tuesday, which seemed to hang over the school, and it was a few years before I discovered that it was hops from the local Carlsberg brewery up the road. If ever I come across that smell now, I am immediately transported back to the mid 1980s, to a very good place. I really loved that school. Even though it was very old fashioned, we were treated with dignity and respect and allowed to be ourselves. It was a great place to grow up and to work out who we were. We were encouraged to have high expectations and there were no ceilings.
Quite a few girls chose not to move on into the sixth form, but I think was fairly unusual for sixth formers not to apply for higher education, and in fact when I left in 1987 after A Levels, there were only a couple of us who did not go to University. This was a time when less than 15% of school leavers went to University; aspirations were higher for us. Just before I left, there was much excitement as the school had been left a huge amount of money (£5million rings a bell) from a mystery benefactor, rumoured to have been one of the Cripps family. The whole school moved to new custom built premises in 1992, and the old school premises were sold off. New houses were built in the grounds, some of the buildings were demolished and others sold; 44 Derngate is now a dentists, although many of the old features, such as the dumb waiter and the big front door have been retained.
Last weekend I attended the Old Girls’ Lunch, which is held every year at the new school, which despite the multi million pound investment, is not a patch on the old one. I went with Beccles Bec and a couple of other friends from our year and drank prosecco and ate the buffet lunch. We almost missed dessert because we couldn’t stop talking, and had to run to get the last two slices of chocolate cake.
There were many familiar faces, and my favourite teacher, Mr Oliver was there too. He was our form tutor when we were in the Lower Fifth and here's a photo of us all which must have been taken in 1984. I haven’t seen him for many years, and although his hair has faded from ginger to white and he no longer wears the checked tweed flared trouser suit or bow tie, which were his signature, the years rolled away and he was every bit as lovely as I remembered. He was overjoyed to see us and it made my day.
We stayed until all the tables were being folded up and the chairs stacked in piles and then went to a nearby café to continue our chat, and then out for a meal in the evening for another few hours. So many memories to recount and news to share. It was fabulous, and made me realise that although the school itself was such a big presence in my education, and I mourn its loss, what is more important and lasting is the friendships that endure.
In a last minute effort to drum up a bit of interest in the lunch, we set up an Old Birds group chat, with friends from our year group who are scattered all over the planet. And everyone is still the same – the cheeky ones, the funny ones, the head girl who is still organising, and planning to produce a spreadsheet with all our names on it (sorry CB). And I love it! I loved spending time with Beccles Bec, and meeting up with Nicky and Charlotte and Bola and I am so grateful for the friendships that have lasted since the 1980s.
The lyrics of the Baz Luhrman song have come to mind so many times over the last week or so.
‘The older you get, the more you need people you knew when you were young.’
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