Monday, 26 September 2011

Seven sevens are forty-nine...

I love school. To be more specific, I love the kinky fantasy of attending a school where the atmosphere is repressive, learning is via old-fashioned teaching methods, discipline is unremittingly severe and badly-behaved young ladies (and/or young men) can expect the dunce’s cap and very sore bottoms. Me and three million others, I know, but hey. The whole thing is just really sexy to me.

I love the idea of dressing (compulsorily) in a dull, breast-flattening pinafore, sitting at a heavy wooden desk* in a drab, draughty classroom, gazing up at the chalky blackboard (flanked by canes) at the front of the room, knowing at all times that the strict teacher (with mortar board) conducting the lesson will not hesitate to give any girl foolish enough to misbehave exactly what she deserves**...

...and the only sounds during each and every long, cheerless class are the teacher’s voice, the scratching of chalk on the board and pen nibs on exercise books, the grating of chair legs on the wooden floor, and the slow, monotonous ticking of the old clock on the wall...

YUM! :-)

But I have a confession to make. I’m actually too young to have attended (senior) school when it was anything like that. Corporal punishment wasn’t a possibility, so I never received it. No pinafores either. Yet despite never having ‘lived’ it, the thought of attending such a school – for real, as a pupil, day after day, year after year – is one of my heart’s fondest desires, and funnily enough it was even when I was at school. I'm so envious of those people who got to experience ‘old-school’ schooling for real!

So if any readers happen to have an age-reducing machine and/or a time machine, do write in.

*We did have these at my primary school: ancient desks with inkwells and heavy wooden lids. I would dearly love to have one of them at home now.

**Not that that necessarily has to be a spanking, though the ever-present possibility of one (or any other strict, humiliating punishment) is an important part of the old-fashioned school's overall appeal. More important, to me, is the thought of being irrevocably situated within an immersive, all-pervading social reality in which all of the above is just normal and taken quite for granted: a day-to-day suffused with the “repressive atmosphere” I mentioned in opening. I would have LOVED to have had a school life like that, rather than the bland one I did. Don’t know I’m born, do I? ;-)

1 comment:

  1. Penelope Hasler, to the black board .

    Turn around girl. Tha class half titters.

    I expect tidy work, crossings out will not be tolerated,
    Penelope here, facing the class Penny's head is pushed down over the empty desk right between two girls.
    Her pinafore dress is pulled up and her nickers pulled down. A cane magically appears and before Penny can tell what's going to happen to her she has received half a dozen lines on her back side and is being told to GetBack To Your Desk.
    The class is agast at such a violent onslort however their teacher makes no further mention. She never will again.
    Everyone was careful with their presentation after that!