Archive for the ‘Baby-Sitters Club Review’ Category

Book 14: Mallory isn’t Ginger, and Jessi is Black

Hello Mallory

Sorry, look, I know that probably sounds racist but the amount of times we’re reminded that the Ramseys are Black and in Stoneybrook this is an Issue was kind of appalling. Perhaps this is the way suburban Connecticut residents acted in the 80s. Perhaps Stoneybrook was a town of white supremacists. But, more on Jessi […]

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Book 13: Stacey Dreams of Candy and Eats Cake

Good bye stacey good bye

…and moves back to her beloved New York. Good-bye Stacey, Good-bye starts with disaster. Stacey’s just minding her own business, dreaming about Candy land… …when Math class ends, she rushes to her locker, and runs into Claudia, who gives her some devastating news: “Howie Johnson asked Dorianne Wallingford to go to the library with him […]

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Book 12: Claudia and The Attack of the Clique

Claudia and the new girl

In Claudia and the New Girl, book twelve of the Baby-Sitters Club, one of the trademark traits of the BSC begins to fully emerge; The Clique. The Baby-Sitters Club has been in full operation for a year now. The girls are becoming closer, better friends thanks to their adventures and mutual love of pizza parties. […]

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Book 10: Why does ANYBODY like Mary Anne?

Logan Likes Mary Anne cover feature

No, seriously, why does anybody give Mary Anne Spier the time of day, let alone the sweet, patient puppy-dog, Logan Bruno? Mary Anne can be such a bitch. Everybody always talks about how shy and caring and considerate she is, but underneath the braid and plaid is a jealous, calculating princess, who uses the excuse […]

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Book 9: Dawn Eats Tuna

That’s right – my childhood hero, who taught me that it was ok to be a vegetarian if you wanted to be, eats tuna in book nine of the Baby-Sitters Club: The Ghost at Dawn’s House. It’s all Mallory Pike’s fault, and Dawn just goes with it (she’s into “health food”; it’s never explicitly said […]

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Book 8: Stacey and Scumbag Scott

If you saw an eighteen-year-old lifeguard continually pay skimpy-bikini-wearing thirteen-year-old girls compliments like “Hi, love.” and “Sweetheart, did anyone ever tell you you’re beautiful?”, what would you do? I know what I’d do. I’d call the police on the lecherous cretin. Not our Stacey, who, as the title of the eighth book in the Baby-Sitters […]

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