A Moment with Kim: If the Babysitters Were Modern-Day Hipsters.

This was accomplished with a single issue of Nylon.

#13: Goodbye, Stacey, Goodbye

Maybe you've already caught on to the fact that misanthropy is my general life philosophy. Those of you who haven't are probably wondering why I practically froth at the mouth when talking about Stacey. Reason one is that I long for your approval. And you love when I hate.

However, there are other reasons (for one, she dots her "i"s with hearts).

Let's begin.

The woman is a total narcissist. Which I can respect - I spend about 70% of my income on shoes, so it's not like I'm completely unsympathetic to the similarly appearance-obsessed. But she's always talking about her style, as if I'm actually interested in her glitter nail polish or turquoise wool slacks (half the time her style verges on business casual, which is not exactly the image I have of New York fashionistas). She always skims over or outright ignores the vastly superior style of her best friend, and this makes her virtually useless to me. I know when I open a Stacey-narrated book that Claudia will not receive the sycophantic attention she so rightly deserves.

I resent Stacey on Claudia's behalf.

This is not mentally healthy, I know. But once I explain WHY I think you're going to wholeheartedly agree. See, here's the thing. Stacey is spoiled. I'm sure divorce is a terrible thing (I wouldn't know; my parents are that freakish couple who got together in high school and are on, like, year 30 of their marriage and actually still like each other), but the McGills' divorce seems to have worked out pretty well for Stacey. Her guilt-ridden parents are always taking her shopping. Always. And her mom pays for her to have perm after perm. Best believe our girl is not exactly riding the Mom and Pop Kishi gravy train. She has to pay for her fabulous fashions herself, and on a babysitter's salary, no less.

And Claudia never had the balls to ask her parents for a fucking diamond ring. At least the McGills responded in a realistic fashion ("bitch, please").

So yeah, Stacey sucks. With that said, this is a pretty sweet book. I really wish Ann M. Martin and company had been able to keep up the sense of realism that permeated the early books in the series. There's even a scene where Claudia and Stacey decide that Stacey can just stay in Stoneybrook and live with the Kishis instead of moving back to New York with her parents. (All four parents immediately shoot down this idea. Which is also pretty realistic.)

Aside from the dangly teddy bear earrings Stacey notices when Claudia is having a conniption fit over losing her first and only best friend, there's only one dose of Claudia style, observed during Stacey's last meeting:

"Claudia was sprawled on the floor, halfway under her bed. She was rooting around in a shoebox and mumbling 'I know I have Fritos somewhere. I just know it.' [Classic!] She was wearing a wonderful Claudia outfit - a purple-and-white striped body suit under a gray jumper-thing. [Descriptive. Thanks, Martin.] The legs of the body suit stretched all the way to her ankles, but she was wearing purple push-down socks anyway. [Because, really, what outfit is complete without a) push-down socks or b) sandals that lace up your calves? Speaking of, I almost bought a pair at H&M the other day just because of the Claudia association, despite the fact that they were sparkly and green and would not match anything I owned and now the more I talk about them the more I want to go back and get them anyway DAMMIT.] Around her middle was a wide purple belt with a buckle in the shape of a telephone. And on her feet were black ballet slippers."

Telephone belt buckle, oh man. And if that wasn't enough, I bring you a mini-edition of What the BSC Wore!

Dawn: ". . . a very short kilt, an oversized red sweater, and yellow socks over red tights. On her head was a red beret with a sparkly initial pin attached to the side."

What? I guess this was before they really settled on the California Casual schtick, because this seems like an outfit straight out of Stacey's closet. In fact, I distinctly remember Stacey wearing a beret with a dinosaur pin in The Truth About Stacey. Get your game on, Martin! I still wished they had dressed Dawn more like Ashley.

Mary Anne: ". . . was wearing an outfit that I had helped her choose. [How philanthrophic of you, Stace.] It was tame, but not dorky - a navy blue minidress with a pink sash, blue tights, and black slippers like Claudia's."

I am so into Gossip Girl that I stopped at "navy blue minidress" and started having happy flashbacks to Blair and Serena traipsing around the city in Lorick's backless dresses. Now those are some fucking New York fashionistas.

Stacey describes Kristy's outfit, too, but I'm not wasting my energy on that crap. You already know what she was wearing.

A Moment with Kim: Get Out Your Sunscreen

I wonder how Dawn Schafer feels about global warming. Probably good, huh?



What's funny about this particular work of literary genius is that Scholastic must have felt Dawn came off as too much of a blowhard, because they nixed the haughty look of moral superiority on the new edition's cover. I don't know quite how I feel about that. I do know that - unless my eyes deceive me - they also repainted her shirt to achieve that California Casual Texas Tuxedo Look. For this, I'm sure we're all grateful.

Plus, what does 'recycle conservation' even mean? Very mysterious, Schafer.

#12: Claudia and the New Girl

Let's get this straight, folks: the first rule of the Baby-sitters Club is that you don't talk about the Baby-sitters Club (except for Chapter 3, in which you don't talk about anything but the Baby-sitters Club). Second rule is, if you follow my reference, the same as the first. But the THIRD rule - now that's the one where you aren't allowed to have any friends outside the Baby-sitters Club.

This entry will be filed under the category of What Claudia Wore a Little But Mostly What Claudia's Wacky One-Book-Friend Ashley Wore. And yeah, Ashley's kind of wacky. She's obviously the child of seventies peaceniks who, even today, still have a vaguely illegal aroma emanating from them at all times. A.M.M. tries to attribute it (Ashley's outthereness) to the fact that Ashley went to the Keyes Art Society or something. I think a better explanation would be that Ashley found Papa Peacenik's stash and now spends her afternoons getting baked and painting pictures about the concept of effervescence or something.

The new girl's clothes were the first thing to attract Claud's attention, of course. "They reminded me of something. What was it? Oh, yes. On television not long ago, I'd seen this bizarre movie called Woodstock. It was about a gigantic outdoor rock concert that took place ages ago, like in the sixties, and all the young people who attended it were what my parents call hippies. You know - they wore tons of beaded or silver jewelry and funny long skirts or bell-bottom jeans. The men pierced their ears and wore their hair in ponytails and the women looked like gypsies. (Only my mon said they were 'bohemian.' I think it means the same thing.)"

I already love where this is going.

"Well, this Ashford or whatever her name was [serious lols, but is Ashley really that uncommon a name?], looked like a hippie. She was wearing a very pretty pink flowered skirt that was full and so long it touched the tops of her shoes - which I soon realized were not shoes, but sort of hiking boots. Her blouse, loose and lacy, was embroidered with pink flowers, and both her wrists were loaded with silver bangle bracelets. Her hair, which was almost as long as my friend Dawn's and was dirty blonde, was pulled into a fat braid (which, I might add [you might], was not held in place with a rubber band or anything; it just sort of trailed to an end). But the amazing thing was that because her hair was pulled back, you could see her ears. And she had three pierced earrings in each ear. They were all silver and all dangly, but none matched."

Yuck, that is a lot of dangling silver. Claudia sighs over how lucky Ashley is, since the Conservative Kishis would never let Claudia have six holes. Who knew our girl was such a piercing enthusiast, damn.

When Kristy enters Claud's bedroom for a BSC meeting, Claudia wishes "for the thirty-nine thousandth time [that's such a random number to pick, don't you think? 39?] that she'd do something about her clothes and hair." Ha! She then smoothly turns this musing into an excuse to talk about her own outfit, which, I mean . . . good show, Kishi. [golf clap]

"I was wearing a very short pink cotton dress, white tights [I'm so soaked in Gossip Girl that my mind immediately went to Blair, and I'm not (that) ashamed to admit it], and black ballet slippers. I had swept all of my hair way over to one side, where it was held in place with a piece of pink cloth that matched the dress. Only one ear showed, and in it I had put my big palm tree earring."

Claudia doesn't bother to describe Stacey's outfit (and why should she have to, really?) but she does throw us a bone and mention that Stacey'd "painted her fingernails yellow and then put black polka dots all over them."

I really hate polka dots.

"There she was. She was wearing a puffy white blouse, a blue-jean jacket, a long blue-jean skirt, and those hiking boots again. Beaded bracelets circled both wrists, and she'd tied a strip of faded denim around her head, like an Indian headband."

Nicole Richie circa 2005. Am I wrong? Okay, she probably wouldn't have rocked the Texas tuxedo, but you KNOW you saw that outfit hanging off her bony little frame at one point.

When Claud's art teacher announces that first prize winner in the art show will receive $250 dollars, Claudia can't even begin to think of how she'd spend it. So I decided to extrapolate a bit: I've created a shopping list, complete with creative spelling decisions a la Kishi.

1. akrylic pants and pantbrushses
2. scrunchy mayker to compeat with Stacy's NY scruchies
3. hoe-hoes
4. royle blue acid wash pants. lol hipstrs.
5. goald lame hot pants (dont let mom or Janeen the jenius see)
6. buterfingers
7. neon flop sox

Later in book, in the midst of Claudia's Girlcrush, she notes for the reader that Ashley is wearing "two gold balls and a hoop in one ear. A seashell, a real feather, and a dangly flamingo in the other. Pretty cool." I will begrudgingly admit that doesn't sound too terribly horrendous.

And then, Claudia's love begins to wane. "Then I turned around and nearly ran into Ashley. She was wearing a long, all-the-way-to-her-ankles dress with three rows of ruffles at the bottom. A strip of black cloth was tied around her head. I couldn't see her earrings, but she looked . . . well, all right, I'll admit it. She looked a little bizarre."

. . .

Okay, I know this is early on in the series. And therefore it predates a lot of Claudia outfit madness and mayhem. But damn, girl, are you sure you're qualified to make that kind of critique? She of the bungee-cord belt? Well, I guess it doesn't really matter, because in the end Claud drops Ashley like a hot potato and returns to the more normal but also more lame realm of cookie-baking and baby-sitting. They do all eat lunch together at the end, which I guess is supposed to be considered social progress. Even though Kristy displays some shocking Outfit Prejudice:

"Kristy scowled at me, and I knew why. Ashley looked just plain weird in her outfit - a long knitted vest over an even longer shirt which she was wearing tails-out over a skirt that didn't match either the vest or the skirt. [Huh? Pay attention, Ann. I guess on the last page she just stops caring.] And there were those hiking boots again."

Kristy needs to step off. Ashley is just expressing all the colors within her, the ebb and flow of her immortal spirit. Quit hating.

By the way, y'all folks (I was recently visiting my cousins in Louisville) need to thank Bethany from OIT for this entry, because she is the main reason I'm even updating. I had a very surreal encounter with her which began with her asking if I was the girl who wrote [this blog] and ended with me being called a celebrity multiple times, which I did NOT have a problem with. So hats off to Bethany!

And finally, if you are interested in reading a little more about me and my thoughts on the blog, The Phoenix writer Caitlin Curran recently did a short piece on What Claudia Wore. I was NOT aware they were going to use this picture. Now all The Phoenix's readers know that I am the shameful owner of a dirty bathroom mirror.

A Moment with Kim: Haters to the Left

For the directionally challenged haters, it's <----- this way.

Some of you fools are not appreciative enough. You demand pictoral evidence documenting these crimes of fashion. (Some of you even think I should be recreating these outfits, but I am not "exotic" [read: asian] enough to do so.) And once in a while I bring the .jpgs, but quite frankly I am too lazy for that shit most of the time. Isn't it bad enough that I'm doing this? Do you know what it's like to explain this hobby to people in Real Life?

People tend to look at you funny, that's all I'm saying.

Luckily for you, I've been listening to a lot of Blackout lately. And in the inspirational words of Britney Spears' songwriters: "they want more? Well, I'll give them more."

Therefore, we interrupt our irregularly scheduled blogging format to bring you:



I know, I know, you're impressed with my mad Photoshop skills, but you don't have to inundate me with graphic design job offers. Your love is all I ask for. Unless you have that doll and are willing to send it to me, in which case I ask for that.

And yeah, that is candy corn. Cause, why not.

I'm pandering to my audience. And my audience is you. And you know you love me.

xoxo,
Gossip Kim*


* wouldn't it be great/horrible if I went through a Gossip Girl Blog Renaissance? "What's up Upper Bradford Court Siders, Gossip Kim here. Did you see the new perm S. was rocking at the Remember September dance? Don't tell M.A., but my sources informed me that L. and S. were looking mighty cozy. Meanwhile, C. resorted to her usual defense when dealing with yet another mom-funded S. makeover: creating bracelets out of telephone cords. Grab your flak jackets, SMS - I don't think we've seen the last battle in this clash of the fashion titans."

Super Mystery #3: Baby-sitters' Fright Night

By the time the series got to the Super Mystery stage of the game, they were . . . well, I'll be kind and say reaching. The mysteries in general are pretty notorious for being ludicrous. Even when I first read them I was like "the police want you involved in the investigation? Are you sure?" The cop in those books was always letting them into the interrogation room and stuff like that.

This one involves a huge diamond being hidden in a ceramic pumpkin Abby buys as a souvenir. I'll leave it at that.

"For example, today, while Claudia was no doubt running around Stoneybrook in some tribute to the season that included Halloween colors and themes (last year it was Doc Martens with pumpkin stickers, a hand-batiked shirt in orange and black, plus one orange sock and one black sock), Stacey had gone for almost total black [like her soul?]: black jeans, black boots, black turtleneck, silver cropped top over that, black boots with silver side buttons and silver X earrings."

I feel like there are people who will be okay with that outfit. However, it would help if we could understand what Ghostwriter here was trying to say. Is it a vest? What if it was a silver sequined vest, guys. How Urban Outfitters of her. Seriously.

Oh, and listen to this shit:

"Jessi's fond of wearing leotards even when she is not dancing; she has them in every color imaginable."

ANGRY SIGH.

#84: Dawn and the School Spirit War

To quote our girl, oh my lord. I am exhausted just thinking about the amount of fashion I'm about to bring you. Plus, this book is the ever-so-subtle Nazi metaphor tome. Remember those? I mean, it's not half as laughable as It Can't Happen Here, but it's still kinda "Very Special Episode", if you get my drift. Plus, it's narrated by Dawn, so you know a lot of self-righteous lecturing lies ahead. The fact that I remembered the title of that Sweet Valley book without even having to google it is kind of making me want to kill myself. I'm hoping and praying it's just stuck in my brain because it's so ridiculously melodramatic. And look at that cover! Poor Elizabeth is always in peril. It must be really tough to be her. Oh, and speaking of those wacky Wakefield twins: check it out.

Okay, that's enough sidetracking. (You and I both know this is categorically untrue: in my world, there is never enough sidetracking.) Let's get started.

So the book starts out with Dawn bitching about how it's still too cold in Stoneybrook for her baggy white cotton pants. Predictably enough, she points out that they would be totally weather-appropriate in California. God, quit yer bitchin' and just buy a plane ticket already.

Dawn also backhandedly shits on Mallory, which amuses me. Direct quote: "despite the age difference, we're friends with Mal because she's also a Baby-sitters Club member." If I was overseeing a rewrite of this book, the next line would be: "Otherwise, we wouldn't be caught dead with this idiot! She's always talking about horses!"

"I smiled to myself when Claudia appeared. Her long black hair was tucked into a wide-brimmed purple rain hat with colorful Native American designs painted on the brim. She wore a matching purple slicker with identical designs along the hum. Even her umbrella matched! She is the only person I know who can manage to look totally fashionable on a disgusting, rainy day.

'What do you think?' Claudia asked when she noticed Mary Anne, Mallory, and me staring at her rain outfit [with looks of sheer horror on our faces]. 'I painted the designs myself. They're authentic. I got them from a book.'"

Oh, a book. Okay, then. Authentic enough for me!

As they're discussing the School Spirit month that this masterpiece will center on, Dawn muses that Claudia's comment about wearing the school colors means that "she was probably already trying to figure out how to work them into a cool new outfit." Damn straight she was! The girl thinks about two things: candy and fashion. And occasionally children, if the little rugrats can't figure out how to entertain themselves. But she resents them for it.

Onwards to Pajama Day. This is where the fun really gets rolling, because shy-to-the-point-of-social-retardation Mary Anne is all tweaked out about the idea of wearing pajamas to school. But let's cut through the bullshit and get back to the fashion.

"'I have an idea for making a pajama set with the initials SMS silk-screened across the front.' said Claudia.

'But aren't you supposed to wear your real pajamas?' Mary Anne asked [while weeping softly into her napkin].

'So I'll sleep in the outfit one night. That will make them real pajamas.' [Touché, Kishi. Your creative mind never fails to amaze.]

'I'm going to wear these pajamas Nannie bought me that are so weird looking I never actually sleep in them,' Kristy said excitedly. 'They have pink bunnies all over them. They'd be perfect.' [Nannie also knits you sweaters with scottie dogs on the front, K-Thom. What's that about?]

'You want to look ridiculous?' Mary Anne asked incredulously.

'Sure, that's the fun of it.' [That is so Kristy. But I kind of love her for it.]

'Kristy, you should wear your hair all stuck up on top of your head,' Claudia suggested. 'You know, like you just woke up.'

'Good idea! But why just me? Why don't you wear your hair like that?'

'Claudia wants to look like she breezes out of bed in attractive silk-screened pajamas with her hair looking perfect,' I teased.

'Exactly,' Claudia said."

Because she is a super-tranny from Transylvania who is not apologizing for it. Seriously though, you know Claudia grew up to be the woman who, after spending the night with a man, sneaks out of bed at 5am and spends an hour making herself all glowing and tousled and sexified and then sneaks back into bed all "what? I always look like this in the morning!" I, on the other hand, don't even bother to wipe the drool off my pillow. Love me, love my excessive amounts of drool, that's what I say.

California Casual time! "I pulled on jeans, a blue workshirt [what? I guess she means it's from Carhartt or something? Ann M. Martin, I demand you explain this fuckery immediately.], socks [good to know], and sneakers, and raced down the stairs. I came to a screeching halt when I reached the kitchen. Mary Anne stood at the counter eating a bowl of corn flakes dressed in a yellow sweat shirt dress, yellow stockings, and black flats. [This could possibly be cute. I'm astounded.] 'Mary Anne, why are you dressed all in . . .' Then I remembered. 'Class Color Day!' I cried.

Yellow was the eighth-grade color. [Thanks, braintrust, but I think we could have figured that one out on our own, especially since you've been in eighth grade for about ten years at this point.]

'I've been dying to wear this new dress somewhere so today seemed like a good opportunity,' Mary Anne said with a hint of apology in her voice. [Don't let her guilt you with her "morals", Mary Anne. Conform to the demands of society! We're all doing it!] I think she felt a little guilty about giving in to School Spirit Month [lord, it's not like it's going to take away her virtue or anything. That's what Logan's there for. That phrasing sounds like Dawn suspects School Spirit Month might be a date rapist.] after all the complaining she'd done.

I didn't blame her, though. If you have a great new yellow dress on a day when you're supposed to wear yellow, why not wear the dress?

I, however, didn't have anything yellow in my wardrobe. And I don't look particularly good in yellow. [Really? Miss Hippie Happy Sunshine?] 'Do you have anything else that's yellow?' I asked Mary Anne.

'I don't think so.' Mary Anne put her bowl in the dishwasher. 'Anyway, it's getting late.'

'I'm going back upstairs to see if I can dig up something yellow.' I said.

'You'd better be fast.' [That's what she said.] [Sorry.]

'Go ahead without me,' I told Mary Anne.

'All right. Good luck.'

I zoomed back upstairs and started pulling open my drawers. There was nothing yellow. Then I threw open the suitcase which still held my summery stuff from [<3<3<3] California [<3<3<3]. 'Yellow! Yes!' I cried triumphantly [nothing like a good triumphant cry] as I snapped up a pair of yellow socks."

Not. Even. Trying. Anyway, it gets hysterical from here, as Dawn ends up snapping at this television interviewer and then is portrayed unfairly as a raging bitch (which, I mean . . . too easy) on the local news show and her mom Sharon gets all into an uproar and the whole community basically implodes. Have you ever thought about how much of life in Stoneybrook revolves around these seven girls? I'm surprised they haven't erected a statue dedicated to the finest organization ever created. No, not Hooters.

Here is a dramatic pictoral representation. I'll give you a moment to digest. Thanks to dibbly-fresh for letting me steal their scan. Without permission.

After all the brouhaha calms down, everyone decides to let those who want to celebrate Spirit Month do so, and those who aren't interested don't have to participate. I mean, duh. They had to hold a fucking town conference over this. Unbelievable. In the final chapter, Dawn lets us know that on Pajama Day, Claudia "looked chic in her lounging pajamas."

Again, duh.

In bad news, I am totally running out of BSC books and the Hadley Salvation Army is failing to provide me with the cheap paperbacks I need. I am getting suspicious here, because that store is overrun with UMass hipsters who snatch up all the good shit before you get there. (However, I did find this hilariously seventies Mary Kate and Ashley vest the other day. It's like, all velvet and flower embroidery and basically looks like something Claudia would have whipped up on a lazy Saturday morning while eating copious amounts of Hersey's kisses.) Is it possible the hipsters are buying my books? 'Cause, how dare they.

Sorry guys, I was drinking some chardonnay while writing this entry and it apparently made me more chatty than usual. If you made it all the way through, we are now bffs and your hand-woven friendship bracelet is in the mail.

Shegotzen: I feel like I'm answering a personal ad, but e-mail me.