So. I've got this blog.
I won't tell you how old I was when I stopped reading them. It's kind of embarrassing. In my defense, they're totally addictive - they have a soothingly consistent plot structure (most of the fashion is located in Chapter 2, for those of you playing along at home), nothing really bad ever actually happens, and there's a lot of talk about candy. Eventually, I allowed them to go live in the basement, and some time after that . . . my mom got rid of them. You know the classic "I had 10 Mickey Mantle rookie cards and my mother threw them all away!" sob story? I think our generation's (well, the subset of our generation that was literary/dorky enough to be really, really into the Baby-sitter's Club, at least) sob story is going to be "I owned a complete collection of BSC books and my mother sold them at a yard sale!" I hear this sentiment a lot. From fully grown women. And they are still upset about it. If you look back at the early entries of the blog (an index is below -- refer to the entries for the first few books of the series), you'll see that they are bare bones at best. Originally, I figured I'd just quote any passages that included outfit descriptions. But then I found myself starting to editorialize a bit. And then it turned out that you found my editorializing vaguely amusing. And that led to the What Claudia Wore of today -- a delightful mish-mosh of Gossip Girl obsessing, American Apparel mockery, explorations of the term 'hipster' supplemented by Toothpaste for Dinner cartoons, anecdotes about falling under buses, etc. And sure, it's kinda awkward when I have people over and they want to know why my bookshelves resemble the children's section of a used book store. (Typical reaction: ". . . your blog is about what?") That's why I moved the BSC collection to my bedroom. These are the things I do for you.
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