In single-sex schools girls don’t see themselves through boys’ eyes, says Mary Wakefield
I remember quite clearly the moment I first realised how very lucky I was to have been sent to a single-sex boarding school. It was the summer of 1989 and my friends, Becca, Ilona and I were all 13 and arm in arm, collapsing into shrieks of laughter at the drop of a hat. We were at the Newbury agricultural show, as I remember, and still young enough to be thrilled by the corporate goody bags from the Massey Ferguson stand and to think stickers, any stickers, even ones that said ‘Invest with Natwest’, were cool.
Down at the far end of the field there were a few shonky fairground rides, and it was there that this revelation took place. We were standing by ferris wheel, flicking our hair, when two boys from Radley sauntered up.
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