Imagine this: it’s a mid-September day in 2006, and your trip to the mall has finally led you to Barnes & Noble. While your mom waits in line at the café for a soy chai latte (and a white hot chocolate for you, obvi), you wander upstairs to the sacred Young Adult section. Anticipation hums in your fingertips as you scan the spines of Sarah Dessen, Sara Shepard, and Cecily von Ziegesar. Suddenly, a pink and brown plaid cover catches your eye: Dial L for Loser, the newest addition to The Clique series, and the Pretty Committee is going to Hollywood (omg!). Suddenly, having no weekend plans doesn’t seem so bad…
“Mean girl” series catering to middle school girls in the 2000s were a breed of their own. Countless authors put their own spin on the formula of a popular girl group that was scandalous, stylish, and rich, replicating the bestselling storyline across countless series that quickly amassed cult-like followings, including Pretty Little Liars, Gossip Girl, The Alphas, and, of course, The Clique. Many of these stories featured one “outsider:” a character who wasn’t as wealthy or effortlessly fashionable but still managed to infiltrate the social elite after a wardrobe glow-up (usually with a boyfriend to match). Young readers rooted for this archetype because they identified with this character—a girl just like them, wanting to fit in.
In The Clique series by Lisi Harrison, that role belonged to Claire Lyons, the ultimate outsider at an elite private school in Westchester, New York. With her “middle-class” family and basic style, she stood out against the doll-like perfection of the self-ascribed “Pretty Committee.” By the third book, however, Claire finds her way into the group, and her life becomes a whirlwind of Friday night parties, after-school hangouts, and the ego that comes with “popularity.”
What made The Clique stand out compared to its peers was its relatability. Unlike Gossip Girl or Pretty Little Liars (both of which debuted in the same 4 year period from 2002–2006 when these series spiked in popularity), there were no secret siblings, masked stalkers, or life-threatening scandals. Instead, The Clique thrived on the small dramas that felt enormous at 12 years old: who sat where at lunch, which boy liked which girl, and how to score a spot in the coveted inner circle. Readers fantasized about this world of limited parental supervision, jam-packed social calendars, and closets full of Juicy Couture tracksuits. It was a simple fantasy, one that we still cling to in adulthood.
While The Clique series wrapped in 2011 with its fourteenth book, the curated nostalgia of these books keeps readers hooked—even those who have long outgrown high school. The series perfectly captured the mid-2000s suburban-preppy aesthetic: French manicures, Marc Jacobs dresses, Louis Vuitton Speedy bags, Tiffany’s charm bracelets, and MAC lip gloss. For years, Lisi Harrison’s fandom has remained alive and well—whether through her active blog that dates all the way back to 2006, or her Substack geared towards The Clique obsessives, “The State of the Reunion.” A “clique” of fans, as Harrison calls them, have been recruiting the general public to revisit these books in hopes of a sequel for over a decade. For millennial readers like me, rereading The Clique series today brings back memories of having little responsibility during those rose-tinted years when the biggest disaster imaginable was not being invited to a “boy-girl” party.
Seizing on this resurgence of readership in recent years, The Clique is officially making a comeback with a new book that follows the Pretty Committee in their twenties. Lisi Harrison and Ellen Marlow (who played Claire in the 2008 film) are co-writing the new installment, promising a fresh look at how Massie, Alicia, Dylan, Kristen, and Claire navigate adulthood. It’s an ambitious move: can the drama of Westchester’s elite translate into the realities of early careers, friendships, and relationships?
If the Gossip Girl reboot taught us anything, it’s that updating an era-specific franchise is tricky. The revival tried to modernize with social media and diverse storylines, but many fans felt it lacked the sharpness, camp, and escapist fantasy of the original. The Clique will face a similar balancing act. Too much nostalgia, and it risks becoming a caricature of frappuccinos and Sidekicks. Too much modernity, and it may lose the exclusivity and glossy escapism that made it iconic. The challenge lies in preserving the intoxicating mix of fashion, friendship politics, and scandal while making the Pretty Committee’s adult lives both relatable and larger-than-life.
For millennial and Gen Z readers who once wished they could sit at Massie’s lunch table, this isn’t just another reboot. It’s the next chapter—one that asks what happens when the ultimate alpha girls grow up.
