Godolphin girls. Unique. Witty. Sarcastic. Exhausted. The qualities we posses truly are like no other. Ability to exchange whispered gossip at all times? Unmatched. Hiding that tasty cool breeze chewing gum from even the most eagle-eyed teachers? Too easy. Offering friendly faces to year 7s whenever they’re in need? Well, maybe that one could use some work. What is it that happens as we undergo this truly incomparable 7-year experience? Each year group presents new and unexpected troubles and triumphs, unique and particular highs and lows - and, let’s face it, Godolphin wouldn’t be the same without all of its iconic year-group stereotypes. So, as a guidebook-style introduction to yet another academic year (cue celebratory tune from Mr Carroll’s megaphone), we’ve decided to share a rundown of the typical Godolphin Girls’ Lifetime.
NOTE:
To ensure the following achieves its desired result, I humbly ask you to imagine a voice similar to that of Sir David Attenborough narrating the remainder of this article. Without further ado, please enjoy the Evolution of a Dolphin.
Yr 7
Ah, the Year 7s - where to begin? The knee-length skirts? The 10-millimetre-thick woolly tights? The ridiculously oversized backpacks ranging from 2-3 times the wearer’s own body size? Although their overly-excitable manner and seemingly adorable demeanour may trick you into falling for their facade of innocence - do not be fooled: when that lunch bell rings...They. Are. Deadly. Often referred to as ‘the character-building year’, the Year 7s suffer constant, disapproving glares from upper years, sometimes even escalating to frustrated eyerolls when their larger-than-life Smiggle school bags happen to knock into an unsuspecting passer-by’s nose. Still finding their feet as the newest addition to the school community, they find joy in playing infinite rounds of school-wide hide and seek and drive away lunchtimes fondly tapping at their brand-new iPad screens, of which content ranges from the classic 2048 Cupcakes to more intellectual games such as Geometry Dash, or even Wordle.
Yr 8
As they leave the mindless world of year 7 behind, the year 8s make their first acquaintance with a traditional rite-of-passage Godolphin phase. That’s right: the small, symmetrical floral patterns and pastel-coloured scrunchies begin to make their very first appearances - Sloane Square’s Brandy Melville has just received its annual influx of eager customers. Mufti days often tug the older years back down memory lane as the swarm of Year 8s, decked out in the clothes of their trade, bustle around excitedly. School highlights generally include the Christmas Bazaar, various Bake-Offs, and the Trashion Show during CYL Week. As they are no longer novices, the glory of not being the school novelty anymore can oftentimes become overpowering, and certain carried-away year 8s can be heard exercising this new freedom with loud exclamations, such as: “GOD the year 7s are SO annoying” when in the vicinity of a group of year-belows. A noticeable change between Year 7 and Year 8 is the sudden shame that befalls the Year 8s as they join the rest of the school community in walking through the lunch queue, instead of racing excitedly through the halls like they used to, only a short year ago. Ah, but the early lunch will be sorely missed.
Yr 9
WARNING: The doors to the dangerous world of black eyeliner have officially been opened. There’s no turning back now. This monumental discovery will dutifully serve its year-long post as the adventurous Year 9s experiment, documenting their artsy, graphic wings in the form of Snapchat selfies - which will, of course, reappear in a year’s time to haunt them (shoutout to Snapchat Memories for successfully ruining my day for 3 years running!). Scarcely seen out of the dark, mysterious corners of their form rooms, it’s extremely rare to see a single, lone Yr 9. Famously known for travelling in crowds too large to fit through Godolphin corridors, they’re easily identifiable by their shifting eyes and streams of whispered gossip. However, a Yr 9’s most defining characteristic is the infamous random glare of hatred - so forceful that Year 7s and 8s alike can only cower in awe of their intimidating elders. The rest of middle school and the Sixth Formers however, are less impressed - of course, as the newest addition, the Yr 9s are at the bottom of the Middle School food chain and are therefore appropriately looked down upon by their superiors. The typical Year 9 summer agenda usually consists of campaigning for more triangl bikinis, as they begin their journey of evolving from Brandy Melville to the crowd-pleasing Urban Outfitters.
Yr 10
Yr 10, the very middle of all the school years - true to its nature, the year 10s soon find they’re experiencing a mid-(school)-life crisis. On the one hand, the joy of yet another year before serious, scary exams is an incompareable relief - and often acts as a dubious incentive to ‘make the most of their last year of freedom’. Many a mistake was made under the blind comfort of this phrase. However, the increasing stress as the year 10s begin to fully understand the looming shadow of GCSEs opens the doors to a fearsome world of nerves and worry. With the drastically different timetable schedule, new unexplored areas of the school are discovered and the whirlwind of both teacher and fellow student names only becomes even more confused. As the Yr 10s start to settle in, sudden, new, stressful phrases are used in the form of ominous warnings by many a teacher, the most memorable terms being: exam board, mark scheme and syllabus. Along with academic changes, Yr 10 also brings forward numerous lifestyle and apparel novelties. Winter wool is officially discarded for Primark’s finest pair of ultra-mega-sheer tights: if you see a year 10 shivering, say nothing and instead quietly respect her resilience for fashion. The renowned North face puffer jacket is also introduced, and at the end of the school day the sports block is swallowed by the overwhelming sea of blacks, blues and even adventurous shocks of purples and reds.
Yr 11
The shadow of GCSEs has unexpectedly become a very tangible wall, which the year 11s have suddenly found themselves completely flattened against. The ever-nearing promise of practice exams looms over the first term of Year 11, as teachers begin to adopt the ‘ominous warning’ tone of voice that always precedes a less-than-enjoyable revision period. Just to add to the Christmas holiday fun!!! However, this does not deter the determined Year 11s from their own festive plans, far from it - very little could succeed at that. At school, fraternising with the lower years is an uncertain taboo and few dare to gamble in such dangerous and unknown territories. The rest keep to the shadows of their angsty smoky eyeshadow and unmatched fashion sense that all lower years can only hope to achieve when they too reach the pivotal moment of school life: discarding uniform for mufti. A crucial turning point. In light of this sudden freedom of fashion, the corridors seem to melt into a vogue catwalk, awe-stricken eyes and jealous heads turn to admire the centre of attention: Yr 11s sporting their very own clothes. However, the vibrant glamour of the newly-lifted uniform policy is soon gloomily snuffed out, as the teachers adopt their ‘ominous warning’ voices yet again, and the arduous journey continues. Only the sweet promise of their lengthened summer holidays, with all its fun and exciting contents to look forward to, consoles the Yr 11s as exam season creeps closer.
Sixth Form
Though to many of us the world of sixth formers remains an illustrious mystery, the rare glimpse of a nonchalant sixth former striding down the school halls, wielding with them as they go a glamorous air of superiority and confidence, is awe-inspiring. Often serving as inspiration to eager Yr 11s, the typical Sixth Former wears her baggy joggers and y2k zip-up with power and pride, and makes even the most simple (dare I say basic) tops warrant the tags #vintage and #trendy. A-Level and IB subjects soon turn last years’ frantic GCSE frets into toddler tantrums, as the realm of UCAS looms large. Under its intimidating shadow, the Sixth Formers find themselves signing up to various committees and teams (HGT, Social Impact, Sustainability, School Houses) and even occasionally introducing assemblies as they attempt to impress the readers of their applications. This is often the culprit of many a strenuous conversation with Godolphin’s Higher Education and Careers Team (always a bit of a love-hate relationship). However, as they’ve officially reached the esteemed position of superiority within the student body, the Sixth Formers enjoy a wide array of luxuries and novel liberties - the most exciting being their very own common room. Equipped with a microwave for popcorn, a vending machine (containing something other than innocent smoothies and lipton ice tea), AND beanbags, it’s the Sixth Form hotspot (along with the library’s silent section). Another delight is the long-awaited triumph of finally being permitted to use the gym without any sort of supervision - what a win. But the most impressive step up from Middle School, the real prize-winner, is the unmatched liberty of being able to pop to the Broadway, or even home, once that lunch bell rings. The envy radiating from wistful eyes as Sixth Formers are spotted exercising this freedom is palpable.
And on that final note, thus concludes the Evolution of a Dolphin. Hope you enjoyed!!!
The Unpublished Team xx
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