What house are you in, girl?
Back when I was at boarding school, we had the most heinous uniform. When they introduced girls in the early 1990s, the headmaster's wife, in charge of designing the uniforms, obviously decided to go for something so shapeless and ugly that the raging libidos of all the adolescent boys would be quenched for ever and that they would therefore not be distracted from their studies by the sudden influx of GURLS.

However, this policy was not applied to the sports uniforms. A short blue skirt, worn year-round (whatever the weather), matching knee-high socks, a white polo-shirt... all fairly standard, barely-legal dresscode stuff. And sports knickers. Dear lord, the knickers. Designed so that if our skirts flew up then people could not see our actual knickers, these were the same colour of the skirt, but had a coloured stripe up each side, determined by which house one was in. My house had a red stripe, another a yellow one, the third a green one.

A group of girls were walking back from netball to their various houses one day, and decided to take a shortcut over the chapel lawns - this was strictly verboten, as chapel-lawn-walking rights were restricted to teachers and prefects. Sadly, the girls were caught by one of the history teachers, a particularly sweaty and abhorrent old pillock. Said teacher spied the girls, licked his lips, hitched up his saggy old cords, and bellowed "RIGHT! YOU GIRLS, COME HERE AT ONCE!" Terrified, they did so, each trying to hide behind each other. "WHAT HOUSE ARE YOU ALL IN? COME ON, ANSWER ME?" They all blurted out the names of their various houses, which confused him no end. He couldn't tell if they were genuinely all in different houses, or they were trying to confuse him. There was only one way that he could learn the truth. "RIGHT! PULL UP YOUR SKIRTS!" He made them all lift up their skirts so he could peer (closely, of course) at the coloured stripes on each of their pairs of sports knickers. Satisfied (in more ways than one), he told them off, sent them on their way, and then probably wanked himself into a sticky coma once he got home.

EDIT: this was an apocryphal tale told to new girls when they arrived at the school. Might have really happened (the teacher in question real), might have been made up by prefects keen to keep Chapel Lawn "theirs".
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Fri 20 Nov 2009, 13:42, 3 replies)

jokes on her
no amount of shapeless, crappy clothes will prevent boys of that age constantly speculating about what girls look like sans shapeless clothes.
(amazinglasercow now sporting terawatt mining lasers, Fri 20 Nov 2009, 14:51, closed)

damn right.
All the wondering of what we looked like under our culottes probably inflamed their desires even more...
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Fri 20 Nov 2009, 15:00, closed)

"Sticky coma"
Haha!
( whenanimalsattackhumans clad in global hypercolour, Fri 20 Nov 2009, 15:13, closed)