I went to an all boys grammar school in West Yorkshire in the 1970s. My journey through the first five years was pretty uneventful. I had my good and favourite subjects, and my not so favourite subjects. I avoided any serious trouble and, although corporal punishment was standard for some offences, my own experiences were limited to being smacked in front of the class twice in the first form and one slippering from the gym teacher in the fifth form. It was a given that I was going to continue my education into the sixth form and my choice of

Well, let me tell you about my introduction to The Slipper at school. I was about thirteen, a wicked age indeed, and with many years of naughtiness behind me, my parents were in despair as to what to do with me. They decided I would fare better in a small private school with tiny class numbers where I could be observed more closely. While corporal punishment was being phased out in some state schools, the private school I was to go to still disciplined their girls this way. I’m sure that influenced my parents’ decision to send me there, as

In the 1970s, when I was around eight years old, it was morning and I was supposed to be getting ready for school, but I was having a sulky week. On Monday, I had been cheeky to both my mum and dad, and surprisingly I had gotten away with it, so I had continued into greater heights of badness. On Tuesday, I stuck my tongue out at our elderly neighbour and nobody said anything. ‘Great, thought I. I can do as I please!’ On Wednesday, my elder sister gave me a pile of my ironed uniforms to put away so