|Image source: oudailyfashion.wordpress.com|
So I don't know if it's age or hindsight or what but after watching lots of Sex and the City this week (deluge of reruns on tv and the film sequel last night) I have come to a few conclusions.
No1: Were we all brainwashed to believe the fashion was really so amazing? It so was not amazing. It was weird. Until the budget got so overblown, clothes were ridiculously unaffordable, especially for a journalist with one column a week (I should know). Then they all got dressed up in Dior and Louboutins to ride a camel in Abu Dhabi and any semblance of reality just died. For ever.
No2: Has anyone else noticed how dramatic Carrie Bradshaw is? Screechy and well over-the-top, and always crying over a man who has a bit of a life and dumping the ones that are actually into her.
No3: I quite love Miranda.
I once furiously defended the show, in writing, to a male friend of mine who accused it of being superficial and bla bla many years ago.
But I have started to see what kind of generation of women this foursome is meant to represent.
Overgrown, over-indulged babies still talking about friendship and soul-mates like they're five, with Carrie at the helm freaking out ALL the time....culminating in the movie sequel which sees her behaving like a raving lunatic when Big suggests staying home on Sunday night, brings home take-away sushi after a tough day at the office or wants to watch a bit of telly in bed. Poor guy.
And then after Carrie cheats on him with her ex fiance Aidan (remember when she wouldn't even wear Aidan's ring around her finger with that lame excuse of how by wearing it around her neck, it was closer to her heart?) Big buys her the most beautiful black diamond as punishment. Pur-lease.
I now realise Big was so misunderstood.
No wonder he wanted to move to Paris. No wonder he went off and married the beige girl who works at Ralph Lauren.
He should have stayed with her and left Carrie to live in her frizzy hair that she always miraculously blow-dries in under ten seconds with a teeny-tiny dryer that wouldn't even shake the water off a dead ant.
P.S I feel kind of bad now, like I just bitched about my best friend. Or at least a pet.