Helen, 11, flung the door of the girls' toilets open and leaned on the door frame dramatically, like a snot-nosed Blanche Dubois. "I've started..." she breathed, as we flocked around her, evincing awe and concern. In first year secondary, it is de rigeur to falsely announce the commencement of one's menstrual cycle in such a fashion. The tampons handed out by the school nurse, however, will mainly be used as missiles, or eyed doubtfully and thrown in the bin.

A friend and I invented "Willy Pads", which we created from some Sellotape, unravelled cotton wool and a Kleenex. We then took the boys in our class aside one by one, explained to them that blood would soon be coming out of the end of their penis once a month, and offered them "Willy Pads" at 2p a throw. It was difficult enough for the girls to comprehend the glamorous affliction of red weewee, and the boys showed no interest at all. One boy had found tampons in his mum's cupboard and cried bitterly because he thought it meant he was going to get a new baby brother.