Your Own Personal Mean Girls
Over on our EPIC “Back to School Clothes” thread, a handful of us were having full-body flashbacks to the pre-teen sociopaths who attempted to ruin and destroy us. And, you know, probably they’re nice people now like everyone else, just driven mad by a potent cocktail of new-bitch-hormones and bad-home-lives and hair-spray-related-lung-conditions, but that doesn’t mean we can’t call ’em out here.
I had “Deanna”:
This tween girl juicebox made my life a living hell in seventh grade because I found a pair of used Nikes with multi-colored laces IN A BIN OF DONATED CLOTHES, and apparently “I thought I was cool now, but I wasn’t.”
@Kerri had “Desiree”:
When I moved to a new school, she was the Dionne in the Clueless Club and wouldn’t let me be Cher, even though I was clearly Cher material and the incumbent Cher moved away. One day I wore my hair in a high ponytail and she made all the kids in class call me lollipop. I tried to make peace by bringing her a REAL diamond ring (what the hell, right?) and she threw it over the floodwall into the river. BITCH.
@vealgirl had “Shelley”:
She was super manipulative and played mind games. When I came to school in a new outfit, she told everyone I’d gotten it at Target even though I insisted that it was from the Gap. When I finally showed her the label, she just laughed and said it didn’t mean anything and that my mother had just sewed it in. The whole class believed her.
(She also stole all my awesome purple and turquoise school supplies out of my desk while I was out sick and when I came back and called her out on it, everyone said how mean it was for me to accuse her of such a thing.)
Oh, and @adriana:
Mine was Beverly, who complimented my shirt, said she used to have one like it, and then laughed at me because she realized I had bought it from the thrift store her mom had donated it to. 🙁
Let’s just get a flamethrower, already.