I started age 11, when I had come home from school for lunch. The work was being carried out in January, there was no roof on half the house and it was snowing. I was now a full member of the club. Clearly out of his depth, my stepfather broached the subject of my impending journey to adulthood like this: I had had a careful explanation of menstruation before I entered my all-girls secondary school. Reading an old copy of Cosmopolitan, I was curious about an advert for sanitary towels. Byall my friends had started and filled me with horror stories.
Big bosoms were highly desirable in the s.
The day I got my first period
I found out afterwards from her dad, that it had meant the world to her. As we left to walk back up the hill, I thought of all the women who went before me: We have had our ups and downs over the years, but I will never forget that Saturday morning. As soon as I got home that afternoon, I told my mother. Had Mum told him?