The Clique Series: Throwback Thursday

By Golden Gate Betch

One of the most influential book series of our betchood was The Clique series. These books followed a suuuuper fucking bitchy group of 7th graders with eating disorders, so clearly it was EVERYTHING to a young betch. For us West Coast betches it taught us about life on the East Coast, where apparently everyone rides horses and unnecessarily hyphenates words like “ah-mazing.” The clique was a group of BSCBs that called themselves “The Pretty Committee” and they basically just sat around and schemed to ruin nice girls’ lives and hook-up with hot older bros, endeavors that we supported then and now. 

The group was led by the original Regina George aka Massie Block, who had an all-white room that we wanted really fucking bad and acted like she was 19. Then there was her beta, Alicia Rivera, who had the boobs of Kate Upton and only wore Ralph Lauren. Dylan Marvil was the self-proclaimed chubby ginger and we were never quite sure how she got there. One of the least memorable members was Kristen Gregory, who was the secretly poor athlete of the clique. In our young minds we imagined her to look like Blake Lively in Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants but, like you know, poorer. And finally Claire Lyons was a family friend of Massie’s and defined for us very early on what it means to be a Nice Girl. She was fashion-challenged, naïve, and had bad bangs. Ew.

They all attended Octavian Country Day together, which they referred to as OCD—we took this as subtle nod to the prescription pills they were probably high on the whole time. Most scenes involved Juicy Couture sweatsuits, tiny dogs, and yelling at maids (very early 2000s Paris Hilton). The arguably worst part of the series was that all 14 book covers featured different girls so we had no fucking clue what to make of these characters, until the straight-to-DVD adaptation completely ruined all of The Clique’s mystique. We’re just thankful we had such sharp literature to rear our childhoods and help make us into the resting-bitch-faced blackouts that we are today.




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