My first kiss {postcard #1}

Here is what I am doing

Ok, so here goes my first postcard and why not start with number 7 on the list....the story of my first kiss. 

It was the November of 1985, the beginning of another hot Summer in Durban, South Africa, I was 15 and a half and was in Standard 8 at school. My mum and dad sent my sister and I to a private catholic school called The Holy Family Convent and you may have guessed it, it was an all girls school and went from infants aged 5 to matriculation age 17/18 depending on what half of the year you were born in. Not a boy to be had in sight. I wonder now if my parents purposefully considered this when they sent us there despite saying it was for catholic pastoral reasons, they knew they were safe with my clever, studious sister who was 2 years ahead of me at school, but with me there was a streak of rebellion, mischievenous if you will. I thought all work and no play made me a very dull girl. When I say play, I mean anything else but homework and reading, not playing with boys as such!

The fact is that I never really had the opportunity to meet boys other than at house parties that the cool girls would have in their garages magically transformed into disco's over night with glitter balls and a DJ. If my mum was able to convince my Dad that I could go  (he was the stricter one) I enjoyed spending time messing about, dancing and checking out the boys with the other wall flowers and cringed or almost peed in my pants with embarrassment when the end of the night slow dances would come where most girls were partnered off with a boy who fancied them in a slow dance embrace (yeah, George Michael and Careless Whisper you have a lot to answer for!). It was always excruciating and I always vowed never to go to another, but usually forgot about these feelings the next time a party came round.

Anyway, I digress. So, you may have gathered by now that boys were not something my fairly strict but always fair parents approved of. Looking back now it was almost as if they were in denial about teenage hormones and feelings and experimenting in affairs of the heart. However, come the Summer of 1985 I found myself in a pickle as one of my mum's work colleagues son's had spotted me at a family work gathering I think, or when we both seemed to have gone to our mum's work place after school one day, I can't exactly remember. His name was Francoise pronounced FRUN-SW-AAS, say it quickly and you'll get it :o). I think his mum was of an English background and his dad Afrikaans. he was the middle of three boys and I felt like I knew him already as my mum was good friends with his.

He decided to ask me to his official school dance, black tie and all that. His friend needed one of my friends as a partner too and so i roped in Lisa to help out, she was rather keen on his friend called Shane and her parents didn't seem to protest. Mine didn't either for that matter because I think they almost thought that it was like me going to the dance with a brother, so nothing could happen or could it?

I loved getting dressed in a black silky shoulder padded 80's dress borrowed from one of my sisters friends and despite my hideous braces(or railway tracks as we called them then), my shimmery "ice-pink" lipstick and eye shadow looked good in an 80's kind of way! He wore black tie and had a new romantic type massive fringe like the lead singer from Human League (he he it's cracking me up just thinking about it now)which always got in his face and had to be permanently flicked back. I was so nervous and weirdly excited, it didn't really matter then.

I can't remember the full dance experience, we had our photos taken in a booth (I never got one, but have snaps my mum took before I left to go), had something to eat (I was on the verge of becoming a vegetarian) and danced the night away without alcohol which some of the older teenagers had obviously sneaked in.

Lisa and Shane hit it off a little too well and ended up snogging for most of the night. It fascinated me, how did they do it? God only knew that I had practiced kissing my mirror a good few times before and this also lead to my first experience of "not knowing where to look when you best friend is snogging right in front of you and feeling highly anxious that you might be next" feeling. And boy was I right to have those feelings.

Next minute I am in Francoise's arms doing a slow dance and then he went in for the kill, me with my braces and no doubt elastics between top and bottom jaw teeth. I was so shocked, naively I don't think it entered my head that he might want to kiss me. Maybe it was because I didn't really fancy him despite his reasonable good looks and Human League fringe and so wasn't really looking for a kiss. I pretended to know what to do, whilst not particularly enjoying the rather wet (cringe...sorry but its true)experience. I think it happened again a few minutes later, it didn't get any better and I think he must of known this too.

We were picked up at midnight, the boys dropped off at their homes and Lisa stayed over at my house and we stayed up chatting through into the wee hours of the morning. She was totally besotted with Shane and me, in the quietness of my mind was pleased I had had a first kiss experience and was even more pleased when Francoise didn't pursue any form of a relationship.

Writing this I'm wondering if he knew that he was my first kiss and secondly, I wonder if my parents ever found out? I must chat to them about this next time we speak.

So, how about you, do you remember your first kiss? Do tell x