Day Twenty-Nine: Sex & the City

SEX & THE CITY

-Sarah Jessica Parker
-Kim Cattrall
-Cynthia Nixon
-Kristin Davis

There are two things I don’t understand about this series: why SJP wears a tutu in the opening sequence, and why she’s constantly pestering Mr. Big. Those of you familiar with the series know that Big (Chris Noth) is the nameless man of Carrie Bradshaw’s dreams. One episode they’re on, two episodes later Carrie becomes convinced he doesn’t love her enough, has a meltdown, and they’re off. Of course, Big can be a dog, but one can hardly blame him for eyeballing other women when Carrie’s always giving him her neurotic female psycho babble.

I suppose the series has to have a Carrie, because it has all other varieties of men and women very well represented. The four main characters are nothing but stereotypes, there’s no denying it. Charlotte York is constantly obsessed with finding the perfect husband, the perfect china pattern, and the perfect home in Connecticut before having perfect babies. You might think “obsessed” is too strong a word but trust me, it’s not. Homegirl is straight up crazy.

Then there’s Miranda Hobbes (Cynthia Nixon), high-powered New York attorney with flaming red hair to match her spicy, “men suck” attitude. She has a lot of “Oh crap, I’m single, I guess I need to scream about how much I hate men” moments. Naturally, she’s the career woman of the group who winds up pregnant, much to Charlotte’s frustration.

Samantha Jones is the whore of the group, plain and simple. She might sleep with three or four men per episode. I’m serious, it’s like she’s trying to start a collection.

And then there’s Carrie, who constantly pumps people for information about their most personal desires and opinions to base her newspaper articles on, all the while wearing the most absurd and repulsive looking outfits you can possibly imagine.

I think this show probably addresses every thing women have ever thought, wondered, freaked, cried, yelled, laughed, and gossiped about. Have you recently met a grieving widower in a cemetery? There’s an episode for that. Is your boyfriend obsessed with models? There’s an episode for that, too. Worried that you’re pregnant? Are you falling for your handyman? Do you hate pretending to be happy for people at weddings and baby showers? Then boy, are you in luck.

In many ways, S&TC is like a how-to (or how not to) manual for women. In closing, I can’t imagine any straight man voluntarily watching this show. And if they’re out there, I hope they keep all the valuable secrets they’ve learned from the S&TC crew to themselves. Once the mystery is gone, what else is there? Nothing but mascara and hairspray, my friend.

And now you know our secrets.

Final Grade: B

Off in search of my catty friends,

M.