Girls' Fun - Part Two
[I'm transcribing edited highlights of a diary I kept when I was 15 / 16 years old, in 1985. Index here.]
Mon 7th Jan 1985 (Clare is 15 years old)
School started. V. depressed. Couldn’t get hair to go right so looked bloody awful.
Saw Philip twice. Even walked behind him into school but he either didn’t see me or ignored me. At least everyone noticed my hair and EVERYONE liked it.
Tue 8th Jan 1985
Wasn’t in the least bit surprised when Philip rang to say he couldn’t come to CND cos of homework. I’ll bet! Was v. upset. Very brusque on phone. Let it show I was annoyed. Have decided to give him 2 weeks in which I won’t contact him AT ALL and if he doesn’t voluntarily contact me within that time about sommat NOT totally necessary then will give him up. He prob. won’t even notice.
Went to CND all same and was interested and enjoyed myself and was good-looking bloke there so NYEAIR NYEAIR to you, Philip Dorman!
Wed 9th Jan 1985
Since I decided to give Philip a fortnight I have read 3 horoscopes: one said I should put old relationships behind me, one said I had to get rid of an element which was thwarting my personality growth, and one said I had to leave a close friend to their own devices, stop nagging them and give them some freedom. Philip to a T.
I have realised that really he isn’t a particularly wonderful person and I don’t love him at all any more. But I want to love him; I wish I did love him. Everyone has their faults, don’t they? I’m sure if I was to leave him alone and not make any contact for a while it would totally fizzle out and he’d forget all about me. Not even ask me to decorate! What’s the point of bothering to make an effort if he doesn’t care? The relationship is totally one-sided anyway. If I dropped my end it would disappear. So I’m going to stick to my decision of 2 weeks, although already it’s torture. I’m already trying to think of excuses to get in touch. But I won’t.
I have cried every night this week so far. I’m so unhappy about Philip. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I ought to ring the Samaritans.
Thur 10th Jan 1985
Not a v. interesting day. Were given our timetables for our mocks. They last a fortnight and any time we haven’t got an exam we’re allowed home, so that’s not bad.
Saw Philip. He smiled and said hi but I just smiled rather frostily and walked past him, so he didn’t linger. As soon as I got to the Youth Centre I burst into tears. Kirsty nonplussed but sympathetic. Didn’t tell her why.
Rang Dorman’s later. Philip answered. He didn’t even say Hi. He just got his Dad like I asked him to. His dad agreed to Tues (CND) but I didn’t even mention the meeting to Philip. Wonder what he’ll think when his Dad tells him. Wonder if he’ll come?
I feel sort of empty.
Fri 11th Jan 1985
I think maybe all this Philip business is a farce. I don’t think I ever did really care for him. This is probably all my excuse to be depressed.
I think any relationship I ever had with Philip is probably over. At the end of dinnertime I was approaching the same door as Philip and some of his bitchy friends. I tried to avoid meeting him at the door by pretending not to have seen him, but he called out “Clare! What have you done to your hair?” He said it with bitchiness and no doubt with full agreement and help from his surrounding bitches.
I just smiled and muttered something about having had it cut, then beat a hasty retreat. I was either in tears or on the verge of tears all afternoon. Everyone wanted to know what was wrong but they never have known how I feel about Philip and they never will.
Am going round to Philip’s tomorrow on some pretext just to see if there is anything to salvage. I am v. depressed.
Sat 12th Jan 1985
Forget about the fortnight arrangement. Today I’m going to Philip’s just to see if there is anything left and I misinterpreted his bitchiness yesterday. He’s never said anything to wilfully upset, spite or insult me all the time I’ve known him! I still can’t believe it. Maybe I ought to just let it all die a natural death.
Forget all that! Wonderful day! I have suffered a whole week of torment on a simple misunderstanding.
Went into town, then cycled round villages. Had town-type shoes on and feet froze v. painfully. Called for Philip, but he wasn’t in. So I went home, feeling defeated. Decided to let it go to the dogs. When I got home feet were killing me. Lay on floor for ages and cried with pain. Then phone rang. Somehow I KNEW it was Philip. It was. He invited me to pantomime! Went at v. short notice. Was incredibly happy. Still am. Had a great time. YIPPEE!
We went to the Theatre Royal pantomime. It was a whole Dorman family outing cos it was the birthday of: Philip’s Dad, Philip’s Dad’s twin brother, and Philip’s brother: Guy, Morris and Thomas. All on the same day!
Anyway, at the end of the panto, the main characters read out requests for people’s birthdays, etc, but we hadn’t put in a request for our lot, so at Philip and his cousin’s suggestion, I shouted out at the top of my voice (and anyone will tell you, I’ve got a mighty loud voice): “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MORRIS, GUY AND THOMAS!” and the whole theatre went quiet.
Everyone heard me perfectly clearly, and the man on the stage stopped in mid flow, rather taken aback, and said: “Oh. All right then. Happy birthday to Guy Thomas.”
It was hilarious. G, M and T were all rather abashed and Guy (Philip’s Dad) kept thanking me for it afterwards. So did Morris. V. FUNNY!
Philip wasn’t so amused, though, partly cos it embarrassed him, partly cos he doesn’t like having the limelight stolen away from him, and maybe even because he didn’t much like outsiders acting like one of the family.
But he’s honestly not really half that bad, and I love him.
Sun 13th Jan 1985
Philip told me last night the question about my hair was totally innocent. He’d noticed the dye and wanted to know the details, you see.
Boring day. Didn’t do any revision. Have now got 3 weeks.
Taped some Annie Nightingale, including “ETHNICOLOR FROM ZOOLOOK.”*
Philip is going skiing on the day my mocks start. At least I won’t be distracted.
* [Editor's note: I found out many years later that the track wasn't called Ethnicolor from Zoolook, as I thought at the time. It was a track called Ethnicolor, from an album called Zoolook by Jean-Michel Jarre. Just in case anyone was wondering, like]
Mon 7th Jan 1985 (Clare is 15 years old)
School started. V. depressed. Couldn’t get hair to go right so looked bloody awful.
Saw Philip twice. Even walked behind him into school but he either didn’t see me or ignored me. At least everyone noticed my hair and EVERYONE liked it.
Tue 8th Jan 1985
Wasn’t in the least bit surprised when Philip rang to say he couldn’t come to CND cos of homework. I’ll bet! Was v. upset. Very brusque on phone. Let it show I was annoyed. Have decided to give him 2 weeks in which I won’t contact him AT ALL and if he doesn’t voluntarily contact me within that time about sommat NOT totally necessary then will give him up. He prob. won’t even notice.
Went to CND all same and was interested and enjoyed myself and was good-looking bloke there so NYEAIR NYEAIR to you, Philip Dorman!
Wed 9th Jan 1985
Since I decided to give Philip a fortnight I have read 3 horoscopes: one said I should put old relationships behind me, one said I had to get rid of an element which was thwarting my personality growth, and one said I had to leave a close friend to their own devices, stop nagging them and give them some freedom. Philip to a T.
I have realised that really he isn’t a particularly wonderful person and I don’t love him at all any more. But I want to love him; I wish I did love him. Everyone has their faults, don’t they? I’m sure if I was to leave him alone and not make any contact for a while it would totally fizzle out and he’d forget all about me. Not even ask me to decorate! What’s the point of bothering to make an effort if he doesn’t care? The relationship is totally one-sided anyway. If I dropped my end it would disappear. So I’m going to stick to my decision of 2 weeks, although already it’s torture. I’m already trying to think of excuses to get in touch. But I won’t.
I have cried every night this week so far. I’m so unhappy about Philip. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I ought to ring the Samaritans.
Thur 10th Jan 1985
Not a v. interesting day. Were given our timetables for our mocks. They last a fortnight and any time we haven’t got an exam we’re allowed home, so that’s not bad.
Saw Philip. He smiled and said hi but I just smiled rather frostily and walked past him, so he didn’t linger. As soon as I got to the Youth Centre I burst into tears. Kirsty nonplussed but sympathetic. Didn’t tell her why.
Rang Dorman’s later. Philip answered. He didn’t even say Hi. He just got his Dad like I asked him to. His dad agreed to Tues (CND) but I didn’t even mention the meeting to Philip. Wonder what he’ll think when his Dad tells him. Wonder if he’ll come?
I feel sort of empty.
Fri 11th Jan 1985
I think maybe all this Philip business is a farce. I don’t think I ever did really care for him. This is probably all my excuse to be depressed.
I think any relationship I ever had with Philip is probably over. At the end of dinnertime I was approaching the same door as Philip and some of his bitchy friends. I tried to avoid meeting him at the door by pretending not to have seen him, but he called out “Clare! What have you done to your hair?” He said it with bitchiness and no doubt with full agreement and help from his surrounding bitches.
I just smiled and muttered something about having had it cut, then beat a hasty retreat. I was either in tears or on the verge of tears all afternoon. Everyone wanted to know what was wrong but they never have known how I feel about Philip and they never will.
Am going round to Philip’s tomorrow on some pretext just to see if there is anything to salvage. I am v. depressed.
Sat 12th Jan 1985
Forget about the fortnight arrangement. Today I’m going to Philip’s just to see if there is anything left and I misinterpreted his bitchiness yesterday. He’s never said anything to wilfully upset, spite or insult me all the time I’ve known him! I still can’t believe it. Maybe I ought to just let it all die a natural death.
Forget all that! Wonderful day! I have suffered a whole week of torment on a simple misunderstanding.
Went into town, then cycled round villages. Had town-type shoes on and feet froze v. painfully. Called for Philip, but he wasn’t in. So I went home, feeling defeated. Decided to let it go to the dogs. When I got home feet were killing me. Lay on floor for ages and cried with pain. Then phone rang. Somehow I KNEW it was Philip. It was. He invited me to pantomime! Went at v. short notice. Was incredibly happy. Still am. Had a great time. YIPPEE!
We went to the Theatre Royal pantomime. It was a whole Dorman family outing cos it was the birthday of: Philip’s Dad, Philip’s Dad’s twin brother, and Philip’s brother: Guy, Morris and Thomas. All on the same day!
Anyway, at the end of the panto, the main characters read out requests for people’s birthdays, etc, but we hadn’t put in a request for our lot, so at Philip and his cousin’s suggestion, I shouted out at the top of my voice (and anyone will tell you, I’ve got a mighty loud voice): “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MORRIS, GUY AND THOMAS!” and the whole theatre went quiet.
Everyone heard me perfectly clearly, and the man on the stage stopped in mid flow, rather taken aback, and said: “Oh. All right then. Happy birthday to Guy Thomas.”
It was hilarious. G, M and T were all rather abashed and Guy (Philip’s Dad) kept thanking me for it afterwards. So did Morris. V. FUNNY!
Philip wasn’t so amused, though, partly cos it embarrassed him, partly cos he doesn’t like having the limelight stolen away from him, and maybe even because he didn’t much like outsiders acting like one of the family.
But he’s honestly not really half that bad, and I love him.
Sun 13th Jan 1985
Philip told me last night the question about my hair was totally innocent. He’d noticed the dye and wanted to know the details, you see.
Boring day. Didn’t do any revision. Have now got 3 weeks.
Taped some Annie Nightingale, including “ETHNICOLOR FROM ZOOLOOK.”*
Philip is going skiing on the day my mocks start. At least I won’t be distracted.
* [Editor's note: I found out many years later that the track wasn't called Ethnicolor from Zoolook, as I thought at the time. It was a track called Ethnicolor, from an album called Zoolook by Jean-Michel Jarre. Just in case anyone was wondering, like]
Labels: Girls' Fun
4 Comments:
I keep reading these entries and thinking "Oh, so that's what girls were thinking. Now it makes sense."
More please.
Ha!
Yes, I was thinking that: Poor Philip must have just thought I was an unfathomable moody cow.
'was'???
*ducks*
Oi!
Ooh, hang on, does this mean you're blogging again??
Gah, I have the memory of a flea.
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