In which I use one swear word…
In preparation for the upcoming movie regarding the story, and to also join up with the rest of the (gay and/or female) human race, I decided to take the plunge and watch Sex and the City for the first time. I borrowed the DVDs from Sister Kristin, who had all of them. As did Sabrina. Huh. I guess these were more popular than I had noticed.
The first thing I realized as I was watching the first few episodes of Season 1 was: this was ten years ago. A decade. The hair styles were a little old and the clothes were a little off and the show was a lot grainy. The second thing I noticed was that they obviously took some time off between the first episode and the second – Carrie’s hair changes color and length and style drastically. It’s a little distracting.
As I sat engrossing myself in the lives of these 4 women, I wondered: What allure does this show hold for the legions of fans it enjoys?
I am halfway through the second season, and I want to move to New York City. Apparently it is filled with streets where you can walk at night without seeing anyone else at all. Everything is pretty. There are no homeless people squatting to pee on the corner as you walk by. And everyone has a huge stunning apartment. Everyone has a decorator. Everyone, even though they complain about money, goes out to eat, or orders food in constantly. Everyone, no matter how little they profess to have in their wallets, buys at least one pair of several-hundred-dollar shoes per month. Everyone spends every evening either having sex or going to an opening of a gallery, or both.
I am halfway through the second season, and I like Mr. Big and I like Samantha. They both know who they are. Carrie is a nutjob who sabotages all of her chances for happiness. All of them. Charlotte is a whore who thinks that she is an innocent. She has story line after story line about many different guys and the things that she will try (that she normally wouldn’t) in order to get them to stay with her, or marry her. And Miranda? She’s a bitch.
But Mr. Big and Samantha? They know who they are. They have it figured out. Miranda can make as many cracks at Sam about her slutty ways, and Sam just smiles her little smile. You can tell that she is thinking “Yes, ok. But that is not who I am. I am not defined in your narrow way. I am a content, happy person who goes after what I want and usually gets it.” And Big? He is trying to have a relationship with Carrie. He is seriously trying. But she keeps changing the rules, and demanding weird things, and punishing Big for demands that she never vocalized but expected him to intuit.
As I keep stating, I am only halfway through Season 2. Maybe things will change. But, if I moved to NYC, I would hang with Samantha and Mr. Big. And I would lose Carrie’s number.