Pastel Rainbows and White Tornadoes: Telling Tween Tales from the Tripped

 Power Pastels Necklace

Top: Wild Fable, Target

Skirt: Wild Fable, Target

Coat: Wild Fable, Target

Boots: Style & Co., Macy's

Bag: Sugar Thrillz, Dolls Kill

Pouch: H&M

Belt: Candie's, Kohl's

White and black bangles: Mixit, JCPenney

Mint bangle: Decree, JCPenney

Barrettes: The Tote Trove

 Right as Rainbow Unicorn Necklace

Top: Freshman 1996, Macy's

Jeans: Allen B., JCPenney

Shoes: Penny Loves Kenny, DSW

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Pink and mint pompom purse charm: Michaels

Blue pompom purse charm: A.C. Moore

Sunglasses: Target

Lucky Charm Farm Necklace

Top: Rebellious One, Macy's

Skirt: So, Kohl's

Coat: She Said, JCPenney

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Bracelets: So, Kohl's

When I started planning this post, I had visions of a pastel goth theme.  You know.  Graphic black spiderwebs spun against candy pink skirts and dresses, biker boots riding alongside ribbons and ruffles, and skulls creeping out of Barbie doll silhouettes.  Although there's the, ahem, ghost of some of that aesthetic going on here, I never achieved the netherworld wardrobe heights of my nightmares.  Turns out that I'm just not that spooky  -- despite persisting with a title that incorporates an (admittedly lazy) Tales from the Crypt pun.  But that's okay.  I'm not into horror movies, just like as a kid, I never read the works of illustrious fear mongers R.L. Stine and Christopher Pike.  I was happy inhabiting the unicorn and rainbowed orbits of The Baby-Sitters Club, Sweet Valley Twins, and Girl Talk (in the case of Sweet Valley Twins, literally.  Unicorn Club membership, anyone?)  In other words, chick lit minus the sheet twisting.       

Such is my clumsy segue into this post's real topic, which is young adult (YA) novels of the '80s and '90s as seen though the lens of Gabrielle Moss's Paperback Crush.  And, of course, as always, me.

In addition to being nostalgic, Paperback Crush is funny.  Moss, who is not just a book fair relic hoarder but a journalist, pokes fun at herself and her favorite heroines in this totally rad retrospective.  Back then, fictional girl world was, after all, sprinkled with so much Wet n' Wild-pureed fairy dust that it's no wonder it wasn't hazardous to young women's emotional health.  Also, maybe their lungs.

My favorite YA series was the Baby-Sitters Club.  To be clear, the babysitting didn't interest me and instead kind of got in the way.  But these books had the most relatable characters.  They had their spats but were generally kind and level-headed, unlike the drama queens of Sweet Valley (more on these Cali girls later).  Also, artist babysitter Claudia Kishi had the best duds in the biz, often featuring way cool accessories she made herself.

Girl Talk was the weakest link in terms of content, but its covers were the most colorful (see below), and I liked the descriptions of the outfits.  I don't think anyone could expect much more from a series that started life as a board game involving prank calls and zit stickers.

Sweet Valley might not have been the most comforting of make-believe neighborhoods.  But there was still something appealing about it.  Like Moss, I was impressed by Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefields' hairdos on the covers of the Sweet Valley High books.  But the sophisticated storylines were too much for me, so I stayed safely in the lane of Sweet Valley Twins, which starred a middle school-aged Elizabeth and Jessica.  The raciest thing to happen there was their friend Sandra Ferris wearing a red bra under her white blouse.  Although I was a bookish Elizabeth who fancied herself a glamorous Jessica (I had similar angst about The Baby-Sittters Club's Mary Anne and Stacey), even I found their one-dimensional characterizations to be a little limiting.  For example, in one book, the girls pop into a drugstore where Elizabeth buys a paperback, and Jessica goes for makeup and candy.  And I remember thinking, I'm a bookworm, sure, but I also love lip gloss and Twizzlers.  Why doesn't Francine Pascal get that?!

Apparently, it wasn't to Pascal that I should've directed my preteen frustration.  Moss reveals that Pascal didn't actually write the series.  That's why she's credited with being the creator of instead of the writer of Sweet Valley.  So, faceless ghostwriter lady (or gentleman), next time maybe think about writing about a girl genius who chucks it all for clown school or something.  And who is also obsessed with mascara.

Stereotypes aside, the thing that made all YA books so much fun was the sense of escape they provided.  Their mean girls were never as diabolical as the ones in real life, and fictional falling-outs always came to a head instead of festering, with the main character resolving them by the final chapter.  Still, as I thumbed through Paperback's pages, I couldn't help but be glad that all of it, real or imaginary, was behind me.  Because even when prettied up in novels, the inner workings of middle school social structure remained front and center in girls' lives.  It was there from the time Kelly or Amanda or Jennifer arrived at the bus stop, her bursting-at-the-seams Jansport giving her scoliosis, following her to gym class before reaching its summit at that horrid epicenter of the day known as recess.  Then it wound down during social studies and resurfaced for a lackadaisical but no-less-pernicious attack on the bus ride home, slinking away just in time for an after-school snack of ants on a log.

Huh.  Maybe this post is about horror after all.

And maybe we're not supposed to identify with only Jessica or Mary Anne or even Claudia, but with facets of each one until we're older and can better understand who we are.  Because although adulthood isn't always as fab as we dream when we're kids, it has its perks.  Like, in the face of awkward social situations, being able to hide out in your Honda to read or drive to the mall.

Someone should write a grown-up lady series about that.  But not you, Francine Pascal.