Claudia Kishi was more of a fashion nightmare than SJP.
Due to a post in Feministing.com, I have now added two more blogs to my rapidly growing list of feed subscriptions. I’m so excited about these two, however, that they require special mention.
Both are related to the 80s-tastic YA series, The Babysitters’ Club.
The first is a general recap blog called Claudia’s Room.
My clear favorite of the two, however, is dedicated entirely to Claudia’s outfits: What Claudia Wore.
Here is an excerpt:
Claudia, Mallory would like us to know, “is so dibbly sophisticated and chic. She wears wild clothes like big hats; flowered vests over long shirts that belong to her father [I wonder how super-conservative Mr. Kishi feels about Claudia appropriating his business-casual wear into her bizarre fashion concoctions] and which she leaves untucked [GASP!]; short black pants; and then, something just a little offbeat like penny loafers from the 1950s with white bobby socks. And her jewelry. It’s the height of dibble-dom. [These are the words on the page. I swear to God.] She makes most of it herself – ceramic-bead necklaces and big dangly earrings, but in shapes you wouldn’t expect. For example, in my ears I am allowed to wear studs or very tiny gold hoops. Period. [oh, okay.] Claudia might wear a monkey in one ear and a banana in the other.”
And then she might wear a condom in one ear and a dildo in the other. Because she’s Claudia. You can’t tie her down. You can’t tell her what to do. And god knows you can’t teach her how to spell.
I am in complete bliss over this blog. It might inspire me to go spend my $30 of credit at the used book store on a few favorites so I can relive some of the magic.
By the way, my favorite member was Anastasia “Stacey” Elizabeth McGill. I loved her so much that I never read the book where she dies. Also, I may have been too old for those books at that point.
EDIT: I’m smoking crack. Stacey didn’t die. I could swear she died from diabetes complications. I guess that would have rocked the boat a little too much for Ann M. Martin and her team of ghost writers. I would have killed one of them off if I were writing, if only because, at one point, they were rocking something like 8 members if you count the junior officers and honorary members or whatever. How can a town as small as Stoneybrook keep that many babysitters gainfully employed?
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