I miss the old covers for the Confessions of Georgia Nicolson. I miss the tartan skirt. Now, unless you get used copies, all you can get are the new covers with the photographs.
Why don't I like the new covers? Angus the cat is always doing something stupid. And they are real girls on the front. What do I have against real girls, you ask? If Georgia and I had gone to the same high school, I wouldn't have liked her. Her plucked eyebrows, mean jokes, and immaturity would have made her an enemy. She'd probably be one of those girls I have to put up listening to when I go to the gym and annoys me like no tomorrow. But inside a book, Georgia is hilarious, she's my besty. With just a bit of drawn tartan skirt, I can imagine her how I want, and I don't associate her with real people. Unlike the new covers. With their shaved legs and straightened hair. Yes, I certainly have my prejudices. But I do want Georgia's skirt there. The pink number. I want it and that is le fact.
I do, however, like this cover:
Do I even need to explain why? Cake? Pink frosting? The allusion to one of my favorite jokes about being in the cake shop of luuurve?
Actually, now I look at all the new covers, most of them I'm fine with. I guess it's mostly the one with all the shoes that gets on my nerves. Or maybe I just like the original covers so much better.
(See Katie? These don't have faces either. We chicklit readers hate faces! Except for this one: