Being a slut, to my mind, was mostly fun – wearing and doing what you liked
he first time I was called it, I am not sure I knew exactly what it meant. I was being told off. I was always being told off. I had rolled up the waistband of my green pleated skirt to make it shorter, as we all did. Miss Shipp took me aside and told me I looked like a slut. I was 11. I was to become well versed in the ways of sluthood, which were many and varied. Eating chips in the street was sluttish, apparently. Talking to boys while wearing your school uniform was the height of slutdom. "I'll just take mine off then Miss," I said, which I thought was hilariously witty.
To be a slut was, to my mind, mostly fun, and to do with wearing and doing what you liked. My mum told me that when she had wanted pierced ears and my grandma said that was sluttish, she walked into the hall, stood i...