Back in the days when sexual discrimination was not only tolerated but encouraged, there existed a quaint phenomenon in American education. For lack of a better term "finishing schools", usually women's boarding schools and/ or two-year women's colleges. Ashley Hall in Charleston, attended by mother Mrs. Bush is an example. Virginia and South Carolina were full of them, some survive. "The Belle's of St. Trinian's" a British film I've not seen unfortunately, I'm told did a good job of displaying the humorous aspect of the British equivalent. I went to a couple of such schools. The second, closer to my Georgia home, was over in South Carolina. The student body was composed of about one to two hundred girls. This abnormal microsociety was memorable in many ways. Academically it was probably better than average but no one really cares about that. It's the non-academic that would fill volumes.
Picture a cloistered proper school just prior to the sexual revolution where no males intrude. Dress was the first item that was drastically different. Any place else, meaning where males made up a portion of the population, the females here would be dressed to the nines in the avant garde of haute coutiere fashion, elegantly coifed and made-up as if they starred on Broadway. Pants weren't yet an accepted form for women. Instead it was a time of skirts and sweaters. Here the skirts were of straight, usually black, and woolen topped with a formless sweatshirt, usually gray. Our feet sported tennis sneakers, never seen now, having been replaced by a totally different footwear, athletic shoes. The difference in those two varieties are comparable to an MG-TD versus a Cadillac respectively. Socks... white socks were worn and not turned down. They were shorter than a "Bermuda " sock but longer than anklets. Topping this charming attire was a US Navy regulation sailor cap turned down all 'round. The hair underneath could be anything because it was never seen: dirty, pin curls, bleached badly, etc. No make-up. If one overslept in the morning the dress was even more bazaare. Rolled up pajamas legs covered by a raincoat got you to class and/ or breakfast on time. One lived in fear of things like demerits and restriction of privileges as a result of tardiness.
There was a social life. In fact it was required. Wednesdays we dined formally in evening gowns. Sundays and concerts required hose and heels. Even those events could be lowered to the level of slobdom. Often our monetary allowances might be used for things other than hose and runs in your stocking were clearly no-no. I quickly found liquid brown leather shoe polish when it dried on the skin passed for hose. An eyebrow pencil drawn up the back and you had a seam. We resisted formal events even though they were usually attended by males of our age. Formal gowns, to us, seemed a bit much. I was short and so enjoyed the elevation in statue of heels. My taller friends could get by without them and still look elegant. If you raised the hem of their ball gowns though you'd see...you guessed it, rolled up pajama legs and though not bare feet as close as possible. They could get by with this because there was no dancing allowed at this school. Usually the more fashionable and elegant the ball gown the more deplorable the understructure. The social almost always included tea and crumpets, receiving line and cultural exposure. You can imagine Wednesday evenings how ridiculous we looked in ball gowns at dining table sans any males.

A strange experience. No wonder the 60s and 70s were unleashed.