The Clique is possibly the shallowest book that I have ever read... but it bears a certain crude portrayal of opulence and the upper socio economic class which is both fascinating and drool worthy, and I, being a quivering fashion ego, and furthermore, a girl, fulfill an obligation to love this sort of trash. Massie Block is rich, powerful choleric, and beautiful. She is select and exclusive and manipulates her three friends into a loyalty which is borderline OCD (meaning obsessive compulsive, rather than Octavia Country Day, her select private school). In Massie's world, everyone's father is a lawyer or a bureaucrat or a financier, designer labels are as much of a fad as, say, planking, and every girl is in possession of a platinum card. Teen Vogue is a bible, in Technicolor, with stilettoes and feather boas. Home is a rambling estate. Everything and everyone is dressed to impress, each hair in place, not a stray pound or a wrinkle to be seen. Life is a glossy dream.
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