Several months passed before a letter arrived from the education department. Much to his mother’s joy, Michael had been accepted and he wasn’t at all happy. His mother tried to convince him otherwise, “It’s a very good school Michael, and it’s a lot closer than the comprehensive or the grammar school.” He wasn’t buying it. “Imagine walking across town for half an hour in the wind and the rain then spending all day in cold wet trousers… Ashford is a five-minute walk.”
During the last few weeks of junior school before the summer holidays, Michael and a few of his fellow classmates got their fair share of teasing for going to Ashford. The boys who’d be attending Ashford all insisted they’d be wearing shorts, but almost everybody else called them culottes, or ‘clots’. Rumors were rife amongst the children that Ashford boys also wore girls swimming costumes, gym slips, and leotards, with some girls also claiming the boys wore knickers too. Michael however, was fairly sure none of this was true, but just the idea of wearing a gymslip or leotard put the fear of God into him.
It’s an evil marketing ploy to fill many shop windows with ‘back to school’ displays no sooner than the summer holidays begin, meaning children of all ages would spend those six long weeks in the summer being constantly reminded they’d soon be ‘back to school‘. For a minority of boys, such window displays were doubly displeasing, as the ubiquitous image of the boy and girl in their generic school uniforms did not represent in any way, shape, or form what they’d be wearing come September.
Midway through the summer holidays Michael reluctantly followed his mother to Parker Richards, one of several uniform suppliers in the town. In the window was a sign proudly stating Ashford Boy’s Uniforms in Stock! Michael gulped as he glanced at the mannequin in the window. Its short hair made it clear it was a boy, and its short box pleated culottes made it clear it was an Ashford Uniform. His mother took his hand before opening the door and entering.
