School Daze: An Upper East Side Education in the 1980s - Very Elementary

 My old school, 45 East 75th Street

Growing up in Manhattan in the 1980s was certainly challenging. We were a pretty advanced group of girls. I’m pretty sure the girls of my generation started the materialism fascination of today. We bemoan the fact that our little girls want designer names, but we certainly did. Ralph Lauren was emerging on to the Preppy fashion scene and girls everywhere wore them. Layered. Collars up of course. Our school attire came from LL Bean… the Norwegian sweaters, the moccasins, and their ultra preppy attire. We were different, however, on the weekends and evenings. Our derrieres all wore imprints of other emergent, talented designers with bright and long futures ahead of them. My best friends, Samantha and Catherine always had the best clothes. How I loved to shop in their closets!

Many of my father’s clients were already giants in the fashion industry. Calvin Klein was one such client. In the early 1980s his daughter was kidnapped and my father was responsible in getting his bank to put up the money for the ransom. Eventually Calvin got his daughter back safely. My father acquired Mr. Klein as his client and my drawers and closets were filled with clothes with the little white labels that bore this designers name. Calvin Klein was imprinted on my behind for quite some time and I wore his name and label proudly! I’m pretty certain, however, that my mother would never have shelled out the dollars for his spectacular pieces had we not gotten them discounted. My mother was anti-label of any kind. The only name or initials that should be on my clothes were mine, she said. Of course I rolled my eyes at her many times over. She still lives by this philosophy! In those days, at least in The City, we had no Marshalls, TJ Maxx, Loehman’s, so if you wanted designer goods you paid the designer price unless you were well connected.

I didn’t love my Private All Girls School but I didn’t really know it at the time. I had a few absolutely outstanding teachers and the rest were mediocre at best. I started to lose interest in my learning. I was getting bored and distracted. My mother thinks it is because I was not challenged. I don’t think that the materials were not challenging, I think that the teachers were less than inspiring. There certainly were many much smarter girls in my class. My grades started to plummet causing me to get distracted and lose interest even more. My distraction caused my grades to slip. I started getting labeled as capable, intelligent and lazy. At one point I had to go to a shrink to see if there was anything “wrong” with me. There wasn’t. I was fine. And an IQ test revealed I should have been getting straight As. But I wasn’t and continued to get labeled as lazy. Which, I suppose I was.

My mother had a meeting with the head of the Upper School, Dr. Huff, my History teacher, Mrs. Seitz, and a few others. My results were discussed and upon hearing the news one teacher gasped and another declared that they must have given my mother “some other child’s papers.” Can you imagine?! It was at that moment that my mother started to have doubts about the school. (After college I would get diagnosed with ADD which would explain everything -- though I was an honor roll student throughout my college years.)

I was able to remain strong in some subjects – the arts, languages, English, literature were my strengths because I truly enjoyed these areas. Science and Math were my weaknesses because I loathed them so. And so I started acting out. Not in a violent way but in silly and immature ways. I hid in the closet for an entire 8th grade history class. At the end as Mrs. Seitz was writing our homework assignment on the chalk board I magically reappeared in my seats. In one class as we waited to take the terrible ERB standardized testing one of the students was missing. She was one of the brightest girls in the class. Not terribly glamorous at the time. She often got made fun of. The smart girls sat together. “Where is Anne Schwimmer?” the teacher asked aloud. “I think she’s schwimming!” I replied. The class burst into fits of giggles. I laughed at my own joke, proud of the attention it drew. I hoped it wasn’t too Mean Girls of me. I never wanted to be one of those. Really I wanted everyone to like me and laugh with me.

Later that year I would get reprimanded for wearing my jean jacket in school. Jean jackets were all the rage. Everyone wore them. Sure we all were told to take them off but we never did. One day I was sent home to leave my jean jacket there! (No one else was.) My mother was incensed.

Or perhaps the reason I was sent home was not the jean jacket but these Nikes.
They were all the rage and you had to have a pair!

Teachers and administrators are supposed to look after their charges, to help them if they need it. To lead the way if they seem lost. This was not happening to me. On a personal level I was starting to feel awkward as well. I started to feel as though I didn’t fit in. Middle school years are the worst. All the doubt and self loathing hit you at once. When your friends are gorgeous it is hard to feel gorgeous. They went out to parties and dances all the time. I went to them too, but with my early curfew felt as though I was missing out on a lot. The girls started to grow up awfully quickly and I started feel as though I was not. It was an awkward place to be. Even though I hated to miss the fun I never once was upset with my mother for instilling her strong values, for watching over me carefully.

My mother sensed my awkwardness too and so we started looking at some boarding schools in Connecticut. I had connections to some elite schools. One school we thought would be perfect was the elite Miss Porter’s School in Farmington. But would my grades get me in even with my connections?

At the same time we were exploring the prep school options, one of my best friends at the time was going to spend a year abroad in the UK. This sounded interesting. I had a grandmother that lived in England. I started to wonder about a year abroad as well. It sounded awfully exotic and exciting!

La Jolie Grandmere, who was living across the Pond herself thought this idea to be magnifique!