I was a latecomer to Sex and the City. In fact, I had always looked down my nose at it. I love fashion, guys, and girlfriends, but from what I'd heard, the series just seemed so...vapid. That was until I got divorced and the show became my best friend. My mother rescued me by buying me the whole series, all packaged in a pink velvet box, and I managed to watch all six seasons over the course of four days. Pathetic? Definitely. Useful? Yes. I had just moved into my own place after a seven year marriage, and there wasn't a lot of fun or humor in my life. After watching the first few episodes, I was hooked. I laughed and actually got excited about being a single gal again. I dusted myself off, got a few cute outfits and new pairs of shoes, and got back in the game.
When the movie came out, I was worried. It looked corny, and it was. My new and fabulous boyfriend (who's now my husband) sweetly agreed to see it on opening night after a friend bailed out. How could I not go see my "friends" on opening night after a three year absence? I think he was the only man there, but he endured this girl-fest like a trooper. I am embarrassed to admit it, but my eyes actually teared up when I heard the opening theme song. It brought back so many memories--good and bad--but I needed to see what would happen, especially to my favorite character, Carrie Bradshaw.
Did you know there are quizzes online that you can take to find out which Sex and the City character you "are"? I suspect that most women who would take this kind of quiz think they're Carrie, and once the quizzes start, it's fairly easy to skew the results. "Would rather buy Manolos than groceries." Or "Always picks the wrong guy over and over again." Or "Loves to take fashion risks." See where it's going? Well, yes, I took the quiz, and, yes, I was Carrie. I definitely identify with Carrie--a whimsical, funny, goofy fashionista (god, I hate that word) who has the ability to laugh at herself. But, as even my husband pointed out (come on--I had to share the results with someone!), I have a healthy dose of Miranda in me, too--Carrie's analytical, terrifically sarcastic and skeptical friend. And it doesn't take a genius to figure out why the whole Sex and the City formula works--because every woman has a little bit of each of the four characters inside of them. Duh. That sounded like a commercial for the show.
This May, a sequel to the Sex and the City movie will be released, and what has me worried (other than the trailers where the cast seems to be partying fashionably in the mid-East) is that some spoilers *****WARNING, DANGER, Will Robinson!**** say that Carrie will find out she's pregnant. Noooooo!!! Please say it's not true! Not that I have anything against mothers, but as a childless woman, I've always liked it when TV characters like Bradshaw buck tradition. There aren't a whole lot of childess female characters on TV, and I have to admit that I want Carrie to keep living my fantasy--as a sassy writer who can dump however much cash she wants on Christian Dior because she doesn't have diapers to buy or a college fund to start. I want her to stay out late, sans babysitters or nannies. Just because most women have children doesn't mean that this interesting character needs to follow the same predictable path. Let me have my childless Carrie! Sure, you could make the argument that this will make her a dynamic character--one who finally realizes that all those Chanel handbags and Prada dresses were a mark of shallowness. She would finally see that having a career as a writer isn't nearly as important as diaper duty, and that she surely could never have found the meaning of life until she discovered the joys of breastfeeding. Blech. For once, please just leave that to Charlotte.
