Character Clues
Character Analysis
Clothing
News flash: In junior high, what you wear can make or break your popularity. Corinna describes "Queen Bee" Beth as "wearing her perfectly matching purse, clothes, and shoes. The whole outfit. Matching. As always" (3.24). As for her friend Olivia, Corinna says:
She's wearing her stylish capris and layered T-shirts, along with her brand new Reef flip-flops. They match perfectly, of course. I'm wearing a soccer T-shirt and pants that look more like capris because I've grown a few inches, but my navy Reefs just happen to match the blue shirt. I hate how I think more about clothes when I'm around her. (47.2)
If Corinna had her way, she wouldn't have to think about clothes at all. On the first day of eighth grade, she tells us, "I look at what I threw on this morning: a plain old white T-shirt and jean skirt. We always used to buy a few outfits before school started, but not this year" (3.4). She's too busy thinking about how she no longer has a mother to think about what she's wearing.
However, by the time the spring band concert rolls around, almost all of Corinna's clothes are too small. The band members have to wear black pants and a white shirt, and Corinna's forced to wear her exercise pants, because they're the only ones that fit. She tries to tell her dad she needs new stuff, but he's too depressed to take her shopping—dude barely has enough energy to feed her.
Corinna wears one of Sophie's sweaters to Thanksgiving dinner, not just because it fits, but because Sophie's clothes comfort her. "As soon as I slid open the door to Mom's closet, I could smell her perfume," she says. "I buried my nose in some of her hanging clothes. Then I touched the wrinkles in one of her shirts, left over from when she wore it the last time. I started thinking about how having her clothes there meant a part of her was still there, too" (7.25). Yup—we can tell here that Corinna's majorly missing her mom.
Corinna and her dad finally have a clothing-related showdown, which is a turning point in their relationship. Joci's mom was kind enough to buy her some bras, but Corinna can't take wearing too-small outfits anymore, and her dad has to face the fact that life eventually has to return to normal.
When he vows to pull himself out of his grief long enough to take her shopping, we start to believe that maybe they'll eventually move on. After all, you can't wear yoga pants every day of your life—although if anyone ever starts a petition to change that, we'll be the first ones to sign. In the meantime, when it comes to this book, clothes let us know who's grieving, who isn't, and where our grievers are in their grief process.
Food
Baked ziti, anyone? How about a little Jell-O salad to go with it? If you're not a fan of casseroles and gelatin, you might want to stay away from funerals. (Okay, you might want to stay away from funerals in general, but we're just giving you a heads-up about the cuisine.)
When Clare reaches out to Corinna via instant messenger, one of the first things they bond over is all the Americanized Italian food which friends and family besieged them with after their parents' deaths. Corinna says, "The great thing about Clare is that she understands the serious stuff. Another great thing about Clare is that we can joke about things that no one else gets, like baked ziti" (9.41). So. much. baked. ziti. But hey—at least it lets them know people care.
And ziti is definitely better than canned chili, which is Corinna's dad's dinner of choice. She'd appreciate it if he'd buy some bread for sandwiches, given that she likes to eat lunch and stuff, but the grocery store is a scary place. Seeing all Sophie's favorite foods feels like walking through a field of landmines; it's easier to eat frozen dinners than face the Kashi cereal and coffee-flavored yogurt.
When Corinna and her dad finally start to feel hungry again, it's a victory on the road back to normalcy. And when they go to Japan and actually enjoy eating, it's like the giant grief clouds are parting—when they make like the locals and slurp their noodles, they actually find it funny. They're not completely healed, but at least they're laughing and eating something that's not from a can. As with clothing, then, food clues us into where these two are in their grieving process.