#51: Stacey's Ex-Best Friend
The cover is nice and all, but I thought we could update it a bit:
There it is.
Those city girls. They sure do grow up fast.
Stacey on Claudia (and, of course, herself): " ... She's tall and thin and a very distant dresser. Claud cares about clothes as much as Kristy doesn't care about them. That's one thing Claud and I have in common. If I may say so, we are pretty sophisticated. [ . . . ] We both like wild outfits - leggings, cowboy boots, short skirts, the layered look, cool hats. And we pay a lot of attention to our nails and our makeup and especially to our hair. I am constantly getting my hair permed. (My hair is blonde and wavy; the perm makes it look even wavier. [God, I wanted a perm so badly when I was a little girl - dammit Stacey!]) Claud likes to experiment with different hairstyles. And she likes hair ornaments - beads and ponytail ties and flowers."
What Stacey wears to meet Laine: "I examined myself critically in the full-length mirror. [Soapbox moment: great message there, ghostwriter] This was the outfit I had chosen in which to meet Laine: a purple shirtwaist top over flowered leggings, my cowboy boots (cowgirl boots? cowwoman boots?), a purple hair ornament made from shoelaces, [didn't we all own a hair ornament made from shoelaces? Mine was pink, green, and orange neon. Baller.] and long dangly silver earrings. I passed my test." Swell.
What Laine wears to meet Stacey: "I saw Laine the second she stepped onto the platforms. She was hard to miss, considering she was wearing a jean coat with a fur collar (I sincerely hoped the fur was fake), black capri pants edged with lace, very chich black ankle boots, and on her head, a brilliant red oversized beret." Wow, the capri pants and the ankle boots. That is a bold move. As is a jean coat with a fur collar, but it is 1991 we're talking about.
Laine and Stacey have a tiff over wearing red on Valentine's Day -- Laine finds it childish and Stacey's all about it. Her defense is that her mom wears red on Valentine's Day. Swing and a miss.
What Stacey wears to the Valentine's Day Dance (you bet there's a dance!): "I pulled a red top and a very short jean skirt out of my closet. 'Laine? I could wear this.'" Laine, awesomely, ignores her and starts contemplating whether or not she should change her nail polish. And then she tells Stacey she should go on a diet.
What Laine wears to the Valentine's Day Dance: "Laine was dressed in black from head to toe. Black leotard, long black jacket, black leggings over black stockings, black shoes. Her jewelry was silver, though. And big." I'm assuming the leggings are the dreaded calf-length variety, otherwise I can't picture this being an outfit. It's pretty hard as is, what with the leotard and leggings. I feel like she's going to lead a Sophisticated New York-Style Jazzercise Session.
Stacey and Laine bond briefly over the tropical fish earrings Stacey had Claudia make for Laine. Aww, Claudia. Your little art projects have the power to heal.
Hey, my pack joke from the last entry totally panned out and I swear to god I didn't even plan it. Check this: "My friends and I (all seven of us, plus our dates) had decided to meet at the door and then go to the dance in a pack. Sometimes we like to stick together that way." Sometimes?
The dance is a middle school dance - gym, streamers, awkward kids - and Laine's date is wearing his trademark sneakers with his suit and Laine just keeps making snotty comments and then Kristy totally burns her. After some kid spills punch near Laine, she comments that 6th graders have no muscle control and shouldn't be allowed at dances. Later, she ends up turning down Pete (her date) for a dance and then goes off with some young middle school stud. And then comes the magic:
"Kristy had joined us. 'I wonder if Laine knows her dream boy is a lowly seventh-grader.' She paused. 'I also wonder if Laine thinks seventh-graders have enough muscle control.'
Claudia laughed, but I didn't." Well, Claudia knows funny when she hears it, Stacey.
What Stacey wears on Valentine's Day: "'Not too much like a red elf?' I asked. (I was wearing red leggings, red ankle boots, a bulky red sweater, and red barrettes.)
'Not at all like a red elf,' said Claud. 'I wouldn't tell you something like that. Who do you think I am - Laine?'" Well, you're certainly nicer than I am. Stacey? Elf city.
The cover is nice and all, but I thought we could update it a bit:
There it is.Those city girls. They sure do grow up fast.
Stacey on Claudia (and, of course, herself): " ... She's tall and thin and a very distant dresser. Claud cares about clothes as much as Kristy doesn't care about them. That's one thing Claud and I have in common. If I may say so, we are pretty sophisticated. [ . . . ] We both like wild outfits - leggings, cowboy boots, short skirts, the layered look, cool hats. And we pay a lot of attention to our nails and our makeup and especially to our hair. I am constantly getting my hair permed. (My hair is blonde and wavy; the perm makes it look even wavier. [God, I wanted a perm so badly when I was a little girl - dammit Stacey!]) Claud likes to experiment with different hairstyles. And she likes hair ornaments - beads and ponytail ties and flowers."
What Stacey wears to meet Laine: "I examined myself critically in the full-length mirror. [Soapbox moment: great message there, ghostwriter] This was the outfit I had chosen in which to meet Laine: a purple shirtwaist top over flowered leggings, my cowboy boots (cowgirl boots? cowwoman boots?), a purple hair ornament made from shoelaces, [didn't we all own a hair ornament made from shoelaces? Mine was pink, green, and orange neon. Baller.] and long dangly silver earrings. I passed my test." Swell.
What Laine wears to meet Stacey: "I saw Laine the second she stepped onto the platforms. She was hard to miss, considering she was wearing a jean coat with a fur collar (I sincerely hoped the fur was fake), black capri pants edged with lace, very chich black ankle boots, and on her head, a brilliant red oversized beret." Wow, the capri pants and the ankle boots. That is a bold move. As is a jean coat with a fur collar, but it is 1991 we're talking about.
Laine and Stacey have a tiff over wearing red on Valentine's Day -- Laine finds it childish and Stacey's all about it. Her defense is that her mom wears red on Valentine's Day. Swing and a miss.
What Stacey wears to the Valentine's Day Dance (you bet there's a dance!): "I pulled a red top and a very short jean skirt out of my closet. 'Laine? I could wear this.'" Laine, awesomely, ignores her and starts contemplating whether or not she should change her nail polish. And then she tells Stacey she should go on a diet.
What Laine wears to the Valentine's Day Dance: "Laine was dressed in black from head to toe. Black leotard, long black jacket, black leggings over black stockings, black shoes. Her jewelry was silver, though. And big." I'm assuming the leggings are the dreaded calf-length variety, otherwise I can't picture this being an outfit. It's pretty hard as is, what with the leotard and leggings. I feel like she's going to lead a Sophisticated New York-Style Jazzercise Session.
Stacey and Laine bond briefly over the tropical fish earrings Stacey had Claudia make for Laine. Aww, Claudia. Your little art projects have the power to heal.
Hey, my pack joke from the last entry totally panned out and I swear to god I didn't even plan it. Check this: "My friends and I (all seven of us, plus our dates) had decided to meet at the door and then go to the dance in a pack. Sometimes we like to stick together that way." Sometimes?
The dance is a middle school dance - gym, streamers, awkward kids - and Laine's date is wearing his trademark sneakers with his suit and Laine just keeps making snotty comments and then Kristy totally burns her. After some kid spills punch near Laine, she comments that 6th graders have no muscle control and shouldn't be allowed at dances. Later, she ends up turning down Pete (her date) for a dance and then goes off with some young middle school stud. And then comes the magic:
"Kristy had joined us. 'I wonder if Laine knows her dream boy is a lowly seventh-grader.' She paused. 'I also wonder if Laine thinks seventh-graders have enough muscle control.'
Claudia laughed, but I didn't." Well, Claudia knows funny when she hears it, Stacey.
What Stacey wears on Valentine's Day: "'Not too much like a red elf?' I asked. (I was wearing red leggings, red ankle boots, a bulky red sweater, and red barrettes.)
'Not at all like a red elf,' said Claud. 'I wouldn't tell you something like that. Who do you think I am - Laine?'" Well, you're certainly nicer than I am. Stacey? Elf city.
#46: Mary Anne Misses Logan
So remember yesterday when I was talking about Mary Anne Misses Logan? Well, I thought it would be fun if I gave you all coronaries by updating the blog two days in a row. I know! Can you believe these shenanigans?! Don't fret, I'll probably return to my usual status (Negligent Blogger) soon enough. My friend Kel keeps telling me I should get a cat (because she can sense my impending spinsterhood) and I'm like "DUDE, I can't even take care of my inanimate web project, let alone an actual living creature." The poor thing would be dead within a week. I'm surprised my pothos plant is still alive.
Anyway. Behold the glory (all credit goes to the dibbly-fresh gallery and of course to the visionary who created this masterpiece of early 90s cover art).
Did you behold? Don't just look, people. BEHOLD. Take in every blessed detail, including the blurred crowd of skaters very, very far away from the girls, like maybe the babysitters have all contracted some sort of terribly contagious disease and have been quarantined to one side of the rink. I also like the tagline A LOT: "Nothing beats your friends. But even so . . ." There are just way too many hysterical (and, shamefully, dirty) ways to finish that sentence.
So I guess Claudia, Stacey, and Kristy decided to go out and buy matching white rollerskates and didn't tell Mary Anne. Harsh! And where are the other three? I guess I should just be glad there's at least one book where the entire club doesn't wander around in a pack.
I meant to discuss outfits here, truly I did.
KRISTY: That. sweater. And the clashing turtleneck. And the cuffed jeans.
STACEY: Clearly, if she was standing up, we'd be seeing some camel toe. That sweatshirt does NOT look long enough to cover those leggings, and Blair Waldorf may need to hold a disciplinary hearing.
MARY ANNE: Meh. Again though, with the cuffed jeans.
CLAUDIA: I love this fierce bitch. Now, I would never wear any of this. But this is just so, so good. If only we could see some crazy accessories*, this would be a perfect Claudia outfit. The mulberry vest over what is undoubtedly one of Mr. Kishi's work shirts. The omnipresent black leggings. The non-matching yet still coordinated fedora (also sported by Jenny Humphrey last night in her new life as some sort of cobrasnake style hipster-hussy. Okay, fine, it was a bowler hat. I just wanted another excuse to talk Gossip Girl. I won't get into the Chuck stuff, though, because that is a subject for an entirely new blog, which I plan to title What Chuck Did And Why I Am Extremely Attracted To Him Even Though I Shouldn't Be What The Hell Is Wrong With Me. Catchy, right?).
* Speaking of crazy accessories, I entered a contest and naturally I'd like you to vote for me if you're bored and looking to waste valuable work time while getting paid for your adventures in internet surfing. Lucky Magazine sent me an e-mail in which they basically said "hey if you enter this contest and write about it on the blog perhaps we'll reward you with free stuff." And I was like, "woah, free stuff! I'm in!" And then I realized it was a contest that revolved around denim, and I was EVEN MORE IN. And then I took a bunch of self portraits and THEN I questioned whether this was a good idea in the first place. I mean, I kind of enjoy being the anonymous snark-ster that hides behind a profile picture taken over a year ago in a bathroom mirror. I am not exactly America's Next Top Model. I don't know how to smile with my eyes! It's a crime, really.
So here's my entry. I tried to include an amusing write-up -- I am most proud of the line about me attending the Paris Hilton School of Posing Like a Douchebag, because it's very clear that I DID attend that school, and was heavily involved in all its extracurricular activities.
Detail: three necklaces, back pocket detailing (oh, fine, gratuitous booty shot . . . but now I get to tell my grandchildren that I posted a picture of my butt on the internet! And admit it: now that you've seen the studs you kind of want these jeans, even if you're not down with ecru pants.), and learning to pose like a flamingo for fun and profit. The flamingo thing was actually to show off my shoes, because they are an amazing pair of Jeffrey Campbell oxfords that I hardly ever take off because I am FIVE TEN in them. The bag is Gryson for Target.
And, because those photos are kind of somber and I want you all to know I am still the fun-loving gal you know and, um, tolerate, here I am giving you some SERIOUS finger guns.
Pew pew pew!
(This entry is a good example of why I should go to rehab for my caffeine addiction. It is clearly raging out of control. Time to get out the intervention banner!)
So remember yesterday when I was talking about Mary Anne Misses Logan? Well, I thought it would be fun if I gave you all coronaries by updating the blog two days in a row. I know! Can you believe these shenanigans?! Don't fret, I'll probably return to my usual status (Negligent Blogger) soon enough. My friend Kel keeps telling me I should get a cat (because she can sense my impending spinsterhood) and I'm like "DUDE, I can't even take care of my inanimate web project, let alone an actual living creature." The poor thing would be dead within a week. I'm surprised my pothos plant is still alive.
Anyway. Behold the glory (all credit goes to the dibbly-fresh gallery and of course to the visionary who created this masterpiece of early 90s cover art).
Did you behold? Don't just look, people. BEHOLD. Take in every blessed detail, including the blurred crowd of skaters very, very far away from the girls, like maybe the babysitters have all contracted some sort of terribly contagious disease and have been quarantined to one side of the rink. I also like the tagline A LOT: "Nothing beats your friends. But even so . . ." There are just way too many hysterical (and, shamefully, dirty) ways to finish that sentence.
So I guess Claudia, Stacey, and Kristy decided to go out and buy matching white rollerskates and didn't tell Mary Anne. Harsh! And where are the other three? I guess I should just be glad there's at least one book where the entire club doesn't wander around in a pack.
I meant to discuss outfits here, truly I did.
KRISTY: That. sweater. And the clashing turtleneck. And the cuffed jeans.
STACEY: Clearly, if she was standing up, we'd be seeing some camel toe. That sweatshirt does NOT look long enough to cover those leggings, and Blair Waldorf may need to hold a disciplinary hearing.
MARY ANNE: Meh. Again though, with the cuffed jeans.
CLAUDIA: I love this fierce bitch. Now, I would never wear any of this. But this is just so, so good. If only we could see some crazy accessories*, this would be a perfect Claudia outfit. The mulberry vest over what is undoubtedly one of Mr. Kishi's work shirts. The omnipresent black leggings. The non-matching yet still coordinated fedora (also sported by Jenny Humphrey last night in her new life as some sort of cobrasnake style hipster-hussy. Okay, fine, it was a bowler hat. I just wanted another excuse to talk Gossip Girl. I won't get into the Chuck stuff, though, because that is a subject for an entirely new blog, which I plan to title What Chuck Did And Why I Am Extremely Attracted To Him Even Though I Shouldn't Be What The Hell Is Wrong With Me. Catchy, right?).
* Speaking of crazy accessories, I entered a contest and naturally I'd like you to vote for me if you're bored and looking to waste valuable work time while getting paid for your adventures in internet surfing. Lucky Magazine sent me an e-mail in which they basically said "hey if you enter this contest and write about it on the blog perhaps we'll reward you with free stuff." And I was like, "woah, free stuff! I'm in!" And then I realized it was a contest that revolved around denim, and I was EVEN MORE IN. And then I took a bunch of self portraits and THEN I questioned whether this was a good idea in the first place. I mean, I kind of enjoy being the anonymous snark-ster that hides behind a profile picture taken over a year ago in a bathroom mirror. I am not exactly America's Next Top Model. I don't know how to smile with my eyes! It's a crime, really.
So here's my entry. I tried to include an amusing write-up -- I am most proud of the line about me attending the Paris Hilton School of Posing Like a Douchebag, because it's very clear that I DID attend that school, and was heavily involved in all its extracurricular activities.
Detail: three necklaces, back pocket detailing (oh, fine, gratuitous booty shot . . . but now I get to tell my grandchildren that I posted a picture of my butt on the internet! And admit it: now that you've seen the studs you kind of want these jeans, even if you're not down with ecru pants.), and learning to pose like a flamingo for fun and profit. The flamingo thing was actually to show off my shoes, because they are an amazing pair of Jeffrey Campbell oxfords that I hardly ever take off because I am FIVE TEN in them. The bag is Gryson for Target.
And, because those photos are kind of somber and I want you all to know I am still the fun-loving gal you know and, um, tolerate, here I am giving you some SERIOUS finger guns.
Pew pew pew!
(This entry is a good example of why I should go to rehab for my caffeine addiction. It is clearly raging out of control. Time to get out the intervention banner!)
#41: Mary Anne vs. Logan
Logan Bruno is the original Edward Cullen. They're both overprotective and overbearing, although Cullen wins points for not having a painfully cliche super-Southern accent and Bruno wins points for not actually being a straight-up stalker. Soapbox moment: do not let your impressionable children read Twilight, lest they internalize the kind of freaky obsessive codependent relationship dynamics that Meyer insists are, like, romantic or something. Seriously, SO CREEPY.
Onwards.
Anyway, this is the book where Mary Anne realizes that Logan is totally Edward Cullen-ing her and cuts him loose, only to get back together with him 5 books later (in a tome creatively titled "Mary Anne Misses Logan" . . . which has possibly the best BSC cover of all time. I mean, look at that cover! It's a blog entry in itself.). Oh, Mary Anne. I'm choosing to forgive you because I too have made some not-so-stellar interpersonal choices. We live, we learn, and hopefully we graduate middle school (eventually) and drop the douchebag.
I probably wouldn't hate him so much if the ghostwriters didn't harp on that damn accent.
The fashion begins with "a typical Claudia outfit . . . black leggings [I can't escape them . . . 2008, 1991 - they're everywhere!], a baggy black-and-white shirtdress, low black shoes [up your shoe-description game, ghostwriters], and big wild earrings for her pierced ears." And then "blah blah blah Japanese-American = exotic blah blah junk food blah can't spell blah." Let's skip ahead!
"Claudia flopped onto her bed and leaned against the wall. She was looking especially acute that day. (Acute means cool. My friends and I make up words all the time, and only we know what they mean. [Actually, you guys merely redefine words that already exist, and not that creatively, either.] Distant [see?] and dibble [okay, got me there] also mean cool.) Claud was wearing an oversized raspberry-colored shirt, a short black skirt, and black leggings (the layered look). On her feet were black cowboy boots, and dangling from an earcuff was a huge collection of beads and stones. (Claud does have pierced ears, but the holes were empty.)"
Compared to Claudia, Mary Anne feels "like a complete nerd," and rightly so. ". . . I was wearing one of my better outfits: blue print pants that were wide on top but narrowed to cuffs at the ankles [zoot suit?], and a short-cropped t-shirt [Richard let her out of the house in a short-cropped t-shirt?] with the sleeves rolled up and this acute [sigh] picture of a cactus wearing a cowboy boot."
Oh yeah. Real acute.
Later, Logan comes over and basically orders Mary Anne to go on an impromptu date with him, and . . . I don't know, I just have to share this:
"'Logan!' I said, gasping. 'Slow down!' [Okay, out of context that comes across . . . wrong. They're ice skating, for the record. Perv.]
'Oh, you want a leisurely turn around the ice? That's a good idea. Then everyone can see what a great couple we make.'"
WHAT.
Logan Bruno is the original Edward Cullen. They're both overprotective and overbearing, although Cullen wins points for not having a painfully cliche super-Southern accent and Bruno wins points for not actually being a straight-up stalker. Soapbox moment: do not let your impressionable children read Twilight, lest they internalize the kind of freaky obsessive codependent relationship dynamics that Meyer insists are, like, romantic or something. Seriously, SO CREEPY.
Onwards.
Anyway, this is the book where Mary Anne realizes that Logan is totally Edward Cullen-ing her and cuts him loose, only to get back together with him 5 books later (in a tome creatively titled "Mary Anne Misses Logan" . . . which has possibly the best BSC cover of all time. I mean, look at that cover! It's a blog entry in itself.). Oh, Mary Anne. I'm choosing to forgive you because I too have made some not-so-stellar interpersonal choices. We live, we learn, and hopefully we graduate middle school (eventually) and drop the douchebag.
I probably wouldn't hate him so much if the ghostwriters didn't harp on that damn accent.
The fashion begins with "a typical Claudia outfit . . . black leggings [I can't escape them . . . 2008, 1991 - they're everywhere!], a baggy black-and-white shirtdress, low black shoes [up your shoe-description game, ghostwriters], and big wild earrings for her pierced ears." And then "blah blah blah Japanese-American = exotic blah blah junk food blah can't spell blah." Let's skip ahead!
"Claudia flopped onto her bed and leaned against the wall. She was looking especially acute that day. (Acute means cool. My friends and I make up words all the time, and only we know what they mean. [Actually, you guys merely redefine words that already exist, and not that creatively, either.] Distant [see?] and dibble [okay, got me there] also mean cool.) Claud was wearing an oversized raspberry-colored shirt, a short black skirt, and black leggings (the layered look). On her feet were black cowboy boots, and dangling from an earcuff was a huge collection of beads and stones. (Claud does have pierced ears, but the holes were empty.)"
Compared to Claudia, Mary Anne feels "like a complete nerd," and rightly so. ". . . I was wearing one of my better outfits: blue print pants that were wide on top but narrowed to cuffs at the ankles [zoot suit?], and a short-cropped t-shirt [Richard let her out of the house in a short-cropped t-shirt?] with the sleeves rolled up and this acute [sigh] picture of a cactus wearing a cowboy boot."
Oh yeah. Real acute.
Later, Logan comes over and basically orders Mary Anne to go on an impromptu date with him, and . . . I don't know, I just have to share this:
"'Logan!' I said, gasping. 'Slow down!' [Okay, out of context that comes across . . . wrong. They're ice skating, for the record. Perv.]
'Oh, you want a leisurely turn around the ice? That's a good idea. Then everyone can see what a great couple we make.'"
WHAT.
A Moment with Kim: Diaper Changes We Can Believe In.
Do you guys feel good or bad about all the cheeky, "we're so very clever" celebrity PSAs? Do you feel like maybe they're kind of self-important, or perhaps that you're being talked down to and treated like you are so politically apathetic that you can only be spurred into action by footage of Christina Aguilera serenading her flag-draped baby?
You're not the only one who feels that way.
Okay, let me figure out a way to relate this post back to the BSC. Wait for it . . . wait for it . . .
(I know, the Photoshop skills continue to amaze. Consider the blatant horrendousness [I checked with Claudia, she's pretty sure this is a word] part of the joke.)Woah, looks like Obama's got a new campaign advisor in the final days of this absolutely critical presidential election! Good for him; he's gotta make sure he has all his bases covered, right?
"So Claudia, I'm kind of concerned about how to pull in the ignorant redneck vote. I mean, Palin's really charming them out there with all of that Joe Six-pack shit. How are we going to combat that crap?"
"I've been thinking about this all night while eating HoHos, and shortly before slipping into a sugar coma I came up with the solution. Here, I've created you a belt made entirely from flattened Budweiser cans and beef jerky."
"Wow, hiring you was the best thing that's happened to my campaign since McCain picked Palin! I think I'll keep you on as my Fashion Advisor. But you aren't allowed to do any writing. That spelling is atrocious. We'll get you a secretary or something."
When I sent in my voter registration form (well, change of address registration form) I wrote "Go Obama!" on the back and drew some hearts for emphasis. True story. I figured it would make the postman smile. It sure made me smile. And I bet I can make you smile, too: you're about to be Barack-rolled.
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#29: Mallory and the Mystery Diary
"That's why her diary's so big: it's full of secrets."
So, this gem is from the era before the Mystery sub-series appeared. And I can definitely see a modern day hipster wearing Mallory's cover outfit, (thanks dibbly-fresh) right down to the big dorky glasses. I've been trying to squint at the alarm clock - I think it says 10:30. I certainly hope that means 10:30 a.m., because 10:30 p.m. is waay past Buddy Barrett's bedtime and I don't care what his negligent mother says. What was up with Mrs. Barrett, by the way? Closet alcoholic? I know they always had to mention that she looked like a model, but that woman was a hot mess. Clean up your act, lady!
"Claudia is also one of the coolest dressers I know. She would never, ever get arrested by the Fashion Police. [What about the bungee cord belt?] She wears long, baggy sweaters, tight leggings [as opposed to loose leggings, obviously], dresses with flared [gasp!] skirts, little ballet slippers, and wild jewelry. She makes a lot of the jewelry herself."
I hate the fake-out. Those books where they'll give you some lamely vague style info but refuse to take the extra five minutes to combine a bowler hat with suspender-overalls, a space-dyed t-shirt, and a sequined cardigan, accessorized with a snake bracelet and a necklace made from feathers and Legos. I mean, really, is that so hard? It took me two minutes!
Oh, wait! We've actually hit the motherload, hidden in Chapter 9: another edition of What the BSC Wore!
I'm still skipping Kristy's outfit, by the way. I hold firm that if you don't know what she's wearing, then you have some independent studying to do.
"Jessi was wearing a long, heart-covered sweat shirt over her dance leotard [Jessi probably wears dance leotards in the shower] and a pair of pink pants that (although you couldn't see this) I knew were held up at the waist with a drawstring. I was wearing boring old jeans [watch your mouth!], but a top that I liked a lot - a big white long-sleeved t-shirt that said I [HEART] KIDS across the front."
Oh, MALLORY. Plus, who are they marketing that shirt for? Maybe I've been watching too much syndicated Law and Order: SVU, but I'm kinda creeped out here.
"Mary Anne, who can be pretty funky in her own shy way, was wearing a very cool short printed jumper over a striped shirt. You might think that those two things would clash, but they didn't. [If you're sure.] They looked great together The jumper was white with a small red print, and the shirt was white with narrow, widely-spaced stripes. Claudia called the outfit 'a fashion risk that worked.' [Oh. I guess she's the expert. Mallory, your opinion has been validated. For once.] Claud herself was wearing jeans, a plain white blouse , a pink sweater, white socks, and loafers. She said she'd gone back to the fifties for the day. [Well, come back, babe! You can do better!] Stacey, on the other hand, was in a much more typical outfit - a short sleeved blue-and-white jumpsuit [fact: babysitters love jumpsuits] with cuffed pants. Parts of it were striped, parts were solid. On her feet were high-topped sneakers laced only halfway up so that she could roll the tongue of the shoe down (extremely cool), plus she was wearing a lot of jewelry. I think Claud had made some of it for her.
Last but not least was Dawn, sitting backward in Claud's desk chair [fact: babysitters feel most comfortable when sitting backward in a desk chair], resting her arms on the top rung of the back. Her outfit was fairly normal - pants and a baggy sweat shirt - but on her head was a small straw hat! I couldn't believe it. Talk about fashion risks."
And yet . . . was there a payoff? Did this fashion risk work? You be the judge. Maybe you enjoy small straw hats. Bonnets, even.
"That's why her diary's so big: it's full of secrets."
So, this gem is from the era before the Mystery sub-series appeared. And I can definitely see a modern day hipster wearing Mallory's cover outfit, (thanks dibbly-fresh) right down to the big dorky glasses. I've been trying to squint at the alarm clock - I think it says 10:30. I certainly hope that means 10:30 a.m., because 10:30 p.m. is waay past Buddy Barrett's bedtime and I don't care what his negligent mother says. What was up with Mrs. Barrett, by the way? Closet alcoholic? I know they always had to mention that she looked like a model, but that woman was a hot mess. Clean up your act, lady!
"Claudia is also one of the coolest dressers I know. She would never, ever get arrested by the Fashion Police. [What about the bungee cord belt?] She wears long, baggy sweaters, tight leggings [as opposed to loose leggings, obviously], dresses with flared [gasp!] skirts, little ballet slippers, and wild jewelry. She makes a lot of the jewelry herself."
I hate the fake-out. Those books where they'll give you some lamely vague style info but refuse to take the extra five minutes to combine a bowler hat with suspender-overalls, a space-dyed t-shirt, and a sequined cardigan, accessorized with a snake bracelet and a necklace made from feathers and Legos. I mean, really, is that so hard? It took me two minutes!
Oh, wait! We've actually hit the motherload, hidden in Chapter 9: another edition of What the BSC Wore!
I'm still skipping Kristy's outfit, by the way. I hold firm that if you don't know what she's wearing, then you have some independent studying to do.
"Jessi was wearing a long, heart-covered sweat shirt over her dance leotard [Jessi probably wears dance leotards in the shower] and a pair of pink pants that (although you couldn't see this) I knew were held up at the waist with a drawstring. I was wearing boring old jeans [watch your mouth!], but a top that I liked a lot - a big white long-sleeved t-shirt that said I [HEART] KIDS across the front."
Oh, MALLORY. Plus, who are they marketing that shirt for? Maybe I've been watching too much syndicated Law and Order: SVU, but I'm kinda creeped out here.
"Mary Anne, who can be pretty funky in her own shy way, was wearing a very cool short printed jumper over a striped shirt. You might think that those two things would clash, but they didn't. [If you're sure.] They looked great together The jumper was white with a small red print, and the shirt was white with narrow, widely-spaced stripes. Claudia called the outfit 'a fashion risk that worked.' [Oh. I guess she's the expert. Mallory, your opinion has been validated. For once.] Claud herself was wearing jeans, a plain white blouse , a pink sweater, white socks, and loafers. She said she'd gone back to the fifties for the day. [Well, come back, babe! You can do better!] Stacey, on the other hand, was in a much more typical outfit - a short sleeved blue-and-white jumpsuit [fact: babysitters love jumpsuits] with cuffed pants. Parts of it were striped, parts were solid. On her feet were high-topped sneakers laced only halfway up so that she could roll the tongue of the shoe down (extremely cool), plus she was wearing a lot of jewelry. I think Claud had made some of it for her.
Last but not least was Dawn, sitting backward in Claud's desk chair [fact: babysitters feel most comfortable when sitting backward in a desk chair], resting her arms on the top rung of the back. Her outfit was fairly normal - pants and a baggy sweat shirt - but on her head was a small straw hat! I couldn't believe it. Talk about fashion risks."
And yet . . . was there a payoff? Did this fashion risk work? You be the judge. Maybe you enjoy small straw hats. Bonnets, even.
#27: Jessi and the Superbrat
Remember everyone: the Superbrat turned out to be Derek. Derek Masters, you aren't going to become a child star stereotype, are you? Ann M. Martin should definitely update the series for Our Modern Times, because I think it would be FABULOUS if Adult Stacey (who, let's face it, would be a total club rat and we both know it) happened upon Derek Masters and Mary Kate Olsen blowing lines in the VIP room at Hyde. It could be like when the Sweet Valley money-grubbers created the Sweet Valley University series and Jessica was having sex and getting married and I could not have imagined anything more scandalous, because that was a kinder, gentler time when Gossip Girl had not yet been invented. How fierce was Serena last night, BTW? (Did you notice my casual segue into Upper East Side gossip? I am getting better at hiding my true intentions: infecting everyone around me with the Gossip Girl Virus. Resistence is futile AND unfashionable.)
I wish I had better news about Claudia's fierceness level, but it is pretty low right now: "she had two french braids pulled back and wound into one. She's also a wild dresser. A that meeting she was wearing a bright pink t-shirt, a short red flouncy skirt, and underneath the skirt she had on black footless tights that she had rolled up to mid-calf."
Oh honey no. Calf-length leggings (footless tights, same difference) are even more hideous than regular leggings.
Well, that sure was a disappointment. Let's try to forget by having a Mini Moment with Kim. I should have written about this earlier, but I met a real life Claudia in my summer session class. It was amazing. Every day I'd be like "damn, I should be photographing this girl because my little blog readers are NEVER going to believe this shit."
Finally, on the last day of class, I took notes on her outfit - Ann M. Martin & Army of Ghostwriters style. (And yeah, I did get permission from her to post them.)
"Today, Julia had on a grey plaid jumper over a green t-shirt. There was writing on the t-shirt, so you could see a bit of the detailing peeking out over the jumper. Underneath, she was wearing a pair of cuffed grey jeans and old-school Adidas soccer sneakers. And, of course, she finished the outfit with a jelly headband made of overlapping hearts and a pink beaded necklace with a wrought iron pentagram pendant. On anyone else, the outfit might have looked strange or mismatched, but on Julia it was totally cool."
And it was.
And, because it's not an entry if I'm not pimping something: A friend of mine just released a new EP called The Stendhal Syndrome and it is pretty damn awesome. Go download it and then leave some comments. Preferably dirty ones, because it would amuse me. Joe would probably appreciate it also.
Remember everyone: the Superbrat turned out to be Derek. Derek Masters, you aren't going to become a child star stereotype, are you? Ann M. Martin should definitely update the series for Our Modern Times, because I think it would be FABULOUS if Adult Stacey (who, let's face it, would be a total club rat and we both know it) happened upon Derek Masters and Mary Kate Olsen blowing lines in the VIP room at Hyde. It could be like when the Sweet Valley money-grubbers created the Sweet Valley University series and Jessica was having sex and getting married and I could not have imagined anything more scandalous, because that was a kinder, gentler time when Gossip Girl had not yet been invented. How fierce was Serena last night, BTW? (Did you notice my casual segue into Upper East Side gossip? I am getting better at hiding my true intentions: infecting everyone around me with the Gossip Girl Virus. Resistence is futile AND unfashionable.)
I wish I had better news about Claudia's fierceness level, but it is pretty low right now: "she had two french braids pulled back and wound into one. She's also a wild dresser. A that meeting she was wearing a bright pink t-shirt, a short red flouncy skirt, and underneath the skirt she had on black footless tights that she had rolled up to mid-calf."
Oh honey no. Calf-length leggings (footless tights, same difference) are even more hideous than regular leggings.
Well, that sure was a disappointment. Let's try to forget by having a Mini Moment with Kim. I should have written about this earlier, but I met a real life Claudia in my summer session class. It was amazing. Every day I'd be like "damn, I should be photographing this girl because my little blog readers are NEVER going to believe this shit."
Finally, on the last day of class, I took notes on her outfit - Ann M. Martin & Army of Ghostwriters style. (And yeah, I did get permission from her to post them.)
"Today, Julia had on a grey plaid jumper over a green t-shirt. There was writing on the t-shirt, so you could see a bit of the detailing peeking out over the jumper. Underneath, she was wearing a pair of cuffed grey jeans and old-school Adidas soccer sneakers. And, of course, she finished the outfit with a jelly headband made of overlapping hearts and a pink beaded necklace with a wrought iron pentagram pendant. On anyone else, the outfit might have looked strange or mismatched, but on Julia it was totally cool."
And it was.
And, because it's not an entry if I'm not pimping something: A friend of mine just released a new EP called The Stendhal Syndrome and it is pretty damn awesome. Go download it and then leave some comments. Preferably dirty ones, because it would amuse me. Joe would probably appreciate it also.
A Moment with Kim: UMass First Day Fashion Report
There are so many parentheses in this entry. It is a parenthetical work of art, really. Prepare yourself. And how good was that Gossip Girl premiere last night? Admit it: when Blair wiped that tear away you found yourself getting a little misty.
One of the (many) wonderful things about being a part time student is that I have a lot of time on my hands (not exactly true, my job takes up a lot of time and energy and I am also really busy, you know, watching reality tv). So while ya'll are trying to figure out where Thompson is and how you're possibly going to handle three economics courses in one semester, I am mostly busy whistling and filing my nails. And people watching, by which I mean 'silent outfit critiquing.' But it's with love, I promise. I constantly have these inner battles where I'm like: "I love that bag. I should tell her. Will she be weirded out? I better not say anything."
Those of you who run street fashion blogs get mad kudos from me for having the guts to just approach people randomly.
One thing I've realized about people watching/silent outfit critiquing is that I need to be subtle about it. I mean, during the day it's not a problem; I just slap on a pair of obnoxiously large sunglasses and stare directly at you. However, this evening I'm waiting for the bus and the girl next to me has a really nice pair of jeans on. At first glance they're a fairly standard pair of medium blue straightlegs, but the back pocket detailing? Amazing. So I'm staring at the waistband of her jeans, trying to figure out what brand they are (why I don't know; I can barely afford to gas up my car right now, let alone buy new items of clothing). And then I realize that, to the casual observer, it would probably seem like I am totally fixated on her butt.
I felt pretty creepy after that. Sorry, girl with cute jeans*.
While I have your attention (assuming that I still have your attention), one minor rant: it was in the mid-80s today, if I remember my weather.com predictions accurately. And yet . . . girls in sweatpants. SWEATPANTS! Baggy, droopy-crotch, UMass logo sweatpants. I was baffled. It's bad enough seeing them during the other three seasons of the year (especially when they are paired with Uggs - my brain is bleeding just from the mental image), but already? Really? I mean, I guess if you're one of these Sweatpant Offenders, you could counter with "okay, Kim, I definitely saw you today wearing jeans, like you do almost every day." And my response, because I am a master debater, would be: "shut up."
The moral of this entry is that I love you all, except when you're wearing sweatpants. No, really, just in case anyone (besides Bethany) at UMass is reading this: this is a highly sarcastic blog / please do not hate me for my scathing mockery / feel free to make fun of me when I'm not wearing any jewelry (I don't consider myself dressed if I'm not wearing any jewelry. It's usually a sign that I'm having a bad day). I'm actually a nice person. Theoretically.
* Jean-related critique: If any guys (besides so@24, hollla) are reading this: please just say no to skinny jeans. Please. I haven't consulted any cobrasnake-style hipsters about it (maybe Cory Kennedy feels good about this trend, I don't know and I don't care to know), but every woman I survey about male skinny jeans responds like this: "ew they are so gross why do guys wear them they freak me out." Again, I will provide a strong counter-argument: "but Kim, you are all over that high-waisted crap like white on rice and I find that pretty heinous as well."
Master debater rebuttal? "You are wrong."
There are so many parentheses in this entry. It is a parenthetical work of art, really. Prepare yourself. And how good was that Gossip Girl premiere last night? Admit it: when Blair wiped that tear away you found yourself getting a little misty.
One of the (many) wonderful things about being a part time student is that I have a lot of time on my hands (not exactly true, my job takes up a lot of time and energy and I am also really busy, you know, watching reality tv). So while ya'll are trying to figure out where Thompson is and how you're possibly going to handle three economics courses in one semester, I am mostly busy whistling and filing my nails. And people watching, by which I mean 'silent outfit critiquing.' But it's with love, I promise. I constantly have these inner battles where I'm like: "I love that bag. I should tell her. Will she be weirded out? I better not say anything."
Those of you who run street fashion blogs get mad kudos from me for having the guts to just approach people randomly.
One thing I've realized about people watching/silent outfit critiquing is that I need to be subtle about it. I mean, during the day it's not a problem; I just slap on a pair of obnoxiously large sunglasses and stare directly at you. However, this evening I'm waiting for the bus and the girl next to me has a really nice pair of jeans on. At first glance they're a fairly standard pair of medium blue straightlegs, but the back pocket detailing? Amazing. So I'm staring at the waistband of her jeans, trying to figure out what brand they are (why I don't know; I can barely afford to gas up my car right now, let alone buy new items of clothing). And then I realize that, to the casual observer, it would probably seem like I am totally fixated on her butt.
I felt pretty creepy after that. Sorry, girl with cute jeans*.
While I have your attention (assuming that I still have your attention), one minor rant: it was in the mid-80s today, if I remember my weather.com predictions accurately. And yet . . . girls in sweatpants. SWEATPANTS! Baggy, droopy-crotch, UMass logo sweatpants. I was baffled. It's bad enough seeing them during the other three seasons of the year (especially when they are paired with Uggs - my brain is bleeding just from the mental image), but already? Really? I mean, I guess if you're one of these Sweatpant Offenders, you could counter with "okay, Kim, I definitely saw you today wearing jeans, like you do almost every day." And my response, because I am a master debater, would be: "shut up."
The moral of this entry is that I love you all, except when you're wearing sweatpants. No, really, just in case anyone (besides Bethany) at UMass is reading this: this is a highly sarcastic blog / please do not hate me for my scathing mockery / feel free to make fun of me when I'm not wearing any jewelry (I don't consider myself dressed if I'm not wearing any jewelry. It's usually a sign that I'm having a bad day). I'm actually a nice person. Theoretically.
* Jean-related critique: If any guys (besides so@24, hollla) are reading this: please just say no to skinny jeans. Please. I haven't consulted any cobrasnake-style hipsters about it (maybe Cory Kennedy feels good about this trend, I don't know and I don't care to know), but every woman I survey about male skinny jeans responds like this: "ew they are so gross why do guys wear them they freak me out." Again, I will provide a strong counter-argument: "but Kim, you are all over that high-waisted crap like white on rice and I find that pretty heinous as well."
Master debater rebuttal? "You are wrong."
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#18: Stacey's Mistake
I know I'm always full of excuses as to why I haven't updated ("My millionaire stepfather whisked me and four of my friends off to the Bahamas!" "I'm starring in the school production of Peter Pan!" "I got shipwrecked on a small island off the coast of Connecticut!"), but I actually have two semi-valid ones this time.
1. I just moved to my own place (it's pretty sweet, if I do say so myself) at the beginning of this month and all the pre- and post-move crap took over my life for a while.
2. I've been working on a few fashion related (though not BSC related) projects that I'm really excited about. "Sure you are, Kim," you say. And I don't blame you for that! But we can rebuild our trust. So, if you've ever wondered what my candy-filled club headquarters looked like, mosey on over to Catwalkqueen.tv and check out yours truly (okay, yours truly's closet, to be precise) answering the question of What's In [my] Wardrobe.
And now the book.
I know I'm always full of excuses as to why I haven't updated ("My millionaire stepfather whisked me and four of my friends off to the Bahamas!" "I'm starring in the school production of Peter Pan!" "I got shipwrecked on a small island off the coast of Connecticut!"), but I actually have two semi-valid ones this time.
1. I just moved to my own place (it's pretty sweet, if I do say so myself) at the beginning of this month and all the pre- and post-move crap took over my life for a while.
2. I've been working on a few fashion related (though not BSC related) projects that I'm really excited about. "Sure you are, Kim," you say. And I don't blame you for that! But we can rebuild our trust. So, if you've ever wondered what my candy-filled club headquarters looked like, mosey on over to Catwalkqueen.tv and check out yours truly (okay, yours truly's closet, to be precise) answering the question of What's In [my] Wardrobe.
And now the book.
"What should I wear in New York?" Claud asked once.
"What you wear in Connecticut," I told her.
"Exactly?"
"Believe me, you see everything in the city. Once I saw someone dressed as Batman."
"Maybe it was Batman," said Claudia, giggling. "But really. What will your friends wear to the party?"
[Where is this insecurity coming from? It's pretty out of character . . . usually she's only self-conscious about her, um, mental acuity.]
We weren't getting anywhere. "Wear your black outfit. That really cool one," I told her. Claudia has incredible clothes. And I wanted her to wear this outfit that was sleek and black and covered with silver stars and sparkles. [That is not helpful, Stacey. Even Kristy could come up with more details than that. Dress? Pants? . . . Jumpsuit?]
Later in the book, Mary Anne starts freaking out about Stacey's party and tells everyone Stacey has to tell them what to wear. Everyone's pretty WTF? about it, and Kristy suggests they wear their Hard Rock Cafe t-shirts. "They're as New York as you can get." Mary Anne then scowls at her and adds "You especially, Kristy. You wear what Stacey says." Kristy hopes that Stacey "says jeans, a sweater, a turtleneck, and sneakers, because that's all I brought. And who made you Fashion Boss of the World, anyway?"
This is an excellent question.
And this is a great example of why I love the early books. There was so much more drama!
". . . if it'll make you feel better, Mary Anne, I'll tell you what to wear. Let's see what you brought." (I glanced at Claudia's boxcar. She had just opened it and about twenty outfits had fallen out.) "And if there's anything you need to borrow," I added, "I'm sure Claudia will have it."
"Stacey," Claudia began coldly, "for your in-"
And then Dawn interrupts with some happy hippie peacemaker speech (kidding, she just tells everyone to calm down and concentrate on getting dressed, which is logical enough advice.). However, I'm not really here for recapping purposes (that little snitfit was too good to ignore, especially since it was clothing related), so let's move on to the outfits.
A half hour later we were ready. Well, maybe not ready, but at least we were dressed. Mary Anne looked at all of us (even me [!]) critically.
"Kristy, borrow an outfit from Claudia, okay?" she said. [Oh no she didn't. To quote Kathy Griffin: "I was raised right - I talk about people behind their backs. It's called manners."]
Kristy was wearing a white turtleneck with little red and blue hearts all over it [ . . . yeah, I owned that turtleneck], a red sweater, jeans, and sneakers.
"Claudia and I are not exactly the same size," said Kristy, who is not only quite short, but completely flat-chested. "Now get off my case."
"Okay, okay . . . Stacey, is it all right if Kristy wears that tonight?"
"Of course, I said.
Mary Anne continued her inspection. Claudia had on the black outfit we'd talked about over the phone so long ago. [Tell me more.] And she was wearing her hair simply, for once - [you're not going to tell me more, are you] brushed back from her face and held in place by a white beaded headband. [Blair Waldorf approves.] Dawn had chosen an oversized [
And what was Mary Anne, the fashion plate, wearing? Well, here's a clue. She looked like she'd walked right out of the pages of Little House on the Prairie. [Snap!] I had chosen a bright, big-patterned [read: Cosby] sweater and a pair of black pants for her. She'd looked at them, shaken her head, replaced them in her suitcase and put on this other outfit - a ruffly white blouse, a long paisley skirt, and these little brown boots.
In Mary Anne's defense, maybe she just borrowed Claudia's time machine for an afternoon. It seems like the fashion world is moving on from the 80s to the 90s right now, (which . . . I'm not sure how I feel about this, to be honest. I guess it's an excuse to start wearing my big clunky Doc Marten oxfords again? I don't know.) and she's pretty much got Sharon's look down pat. Stacey's opinion? It was very mature and attractive but, well, Mary Anne was the only one of my friends who, when dressed up, actually looked like she came from Connecticut. [Double snap.] We could tell, though, that the clothes were new and that she really wanted to wear them, so no one said anything to her, despite the grief she'd given us earlier.
Okay, one last pimp before I end this entry: my good friend Courtney Summers just released the book trailer for her debut novel, Cracked Up to Be. Ch-ch-check it out. And now I'm off to watch Big Brother, because that show is like crack to me.
#14: Hello, Mallory
For your consideration*, the first cover** to feature Ms. Mallory Pike. The girl can't catch a break, and she knows it. Look at her defeated eyes and slumped posture. And then there's Claudia, who is looking fierce. I'd probably call this bitchface on any other sitter, but Claud is just rockin' out. I'm gonna call shenanigans on the solid colored shirt, though. (No, I don't secretly work for American Apparel. It's just that the comparisons are really easy.) Where is the puffy paint? The beaded flamingo? Where are the Sequins of Creativity***?Mallory begins Chapter 2 by wondering what the revered thirteen year olds wear to their club meetings. Regrettably, she decides she should dress up. "I thought about Claudia and the other girls in the club. I was pretty sure that when they got dressed up, they wore trendy clothes like big, bright sweater-dresses or sparkly tops and tight pants." Well, except for Kristy. She wears lobster costumes.
"After standing in front of the closet for so long that Vanessa made a pig face at me while she choose her clothes [. . . okay], I finally decided on my red jumper that said Mallory across the front, a short-sleeved white blouse, and white tights with little red hearts all over them."
Oh man, I used to think articles of clothing with your name on them were the SHIT! I had one of the classic L.L.Bean backpacks with my initials on it, but I still longed for another that simply said Kimberly. I thought that would have been the very height of class. But back to the book, because it's about to get awesome:
"'You look like a Valentine,' Vanessa told me, but I didn't care."
A. You should have cared.
B. Scathing sartorial critique from Vanessa! She's doing my job for me. Nice.
Meeting time! Mallory tells us that "Claudia has pierced ears, uses makeup, and wears clothes my mother wouldn't even let me look at in stores, much less buy. Things like short, tight pants [shorts? capris? it's anyone's guess] with little ballet slippers, or torn t-shirts decorated with sequins [of creativity], or overalls and high-topped sneakers. And her jewelry! She has a bracelet that looks like a coiled snake, and earrings that are a dog for one ear and a bone for the other, and I don't know what else."
Oh, I know.
Mary Anne appears to have borrowed an outfit from Stacey again: "a baggy yellow sweater with a silver squiggle pin near the collar, a short skirt made out of sweat-shirt material, yellow tights, and ballet slippers." And we get another description of what it means to be California casual (here described as "kind of casual"): "baggy jeans with the cuffs rolled up, shirts with the tails out, and big belts." Mmm. Thrilling.
After Mallory's first meeting, Kristy drops her some helpful advice via the BSC notebook, which is kinda embarrassing since everyone's going to read it. This notebook entry has been lovingly recreated in Paint Shop Pro, because I'm not in the mood to mess with my scanner.
Speak for yourself, Thomas!Following this lesson in fashion, Mallory adjusts accordingly for the next meeting: "a pair of jeans, a sweat shirt that said I'D RATHER BE WRITING MY NOVEL, and a pair of sneakers. I figured I wouldn't look any better or worse [well. . .] than Kristy, and she was the president."
It only took one meeting to break Mallory's spirit. One! She's completely given up and is now resorting to the worst of all sartorial crimes: dressing for comfort. Comfort! The horror!
* I long to be on Team Griffin.
** from the dibbly-fresh gallery.
*** This is the title of either Claudia's next book, or the band she assembles in high school. You decide!
A Moment with Kim: THIS JUST IN
Luna Lovegood = Claudia Kishi's wizard counterpart. 
Two words: radish earrings.
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A Moment with Kim: If the Babysitters Were Modern-Day Hipsters.
This was accomplished with a single issue of Nylon.
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#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.
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 SunscreenI 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.
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#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.
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."
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."
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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.
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.
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.
I've retained a troubling amount of information about books I read during my childhood.
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