Manhattan’s Upper East Side is a special blend of crazy. Here are 20 telltale signs that you are an alumna from a one-of-a-kind elite all girls private school.
Your first encounters with the opposite sex were probably at Knickerbocker classes or dances held at Doubles.
Your school had a tradition of floor length gowns or summery minis. Either way, a photo of you in your dress was sent to the dean weeks in advance for approval.
Your headmistress walked a fine line between her speeches awakening your inner warrior to fight for gender equality and making you so sick of hearing about women’s issues that you hated the word feminism.
Alumnae reunions and holiday concerts were the banes of your existence because you had to wear a crisply ironed white oxford shirts and formal dark colored shoes.
These YSOP trips were the first time many of your friends ventured above 96th street or took off their Cartier love bracelets.
A few might have signed up for drivers ed at Dalton, but none actually went.
Chances are there were 3-4 girls sobbing in the bathroom at any given time.
Almost everyone had a shrink, but somehow the stigmas around mental illness remained strong and at least a handful of girls suffered from severe eating disorders.
The fact that he might have been clearly homosexual or had a loving wife and three kids was irrelevant.
What started generations ago as a way for socialites to meet their future husbands became four days of absolute chaos to attempt to get boys and girls to partake in bonding exercises in the middle of what was undoubtedly a frigid February.
While your friends at coed schools were given an rx from gym during their time of the month, you got nothing. But, all the bathrooms were stocked with free tampons.
You were required to wear shorts under your skirt anyway and you saw no point cramming in the bathroom just to remove one layer.
Small class sizes meant that most sports teams didn’t have cuts. It was likely that you had to compete in a tournament in which all the other league schools were present even if you sucked.
It never got less awkward trying to figure out if you should compliment the person like you would if she got a new haircut, or to pretend you didn’t notice the enormous change in the shape of her face.
While you were devastated to lose some of your BFFS, you got a bunch of new blood which ultimately bettered your grade’s dynamic.
Your half an hour lunch blocks were spent running to Yura, Three Guys, or Sweetgreen.
Are Browning Boys the worst? Or are Collegiate Kids?
Whether it was to get bikini ready before Paradise Island for spring break or to slim down before prom, it was inevitable that many of your classmates would be chowing on kale or detoxing with a juice cleanse.
This meant that your significant other maybe went somewhere like Fieldston. Or even more shockingly, a place like Bronx Science.
The answer to both: a resounding no.
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