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Oh Carrie. Michael Patrick King thinks there is one more story left from “the girls”. SATC
These women are pushing 50 so continuing to call women “girls” is a very interesting issue. I must say I have a long and complicated history with Sex and the City. As a black male you may wonder what the hell I have in common with or enjoy about 4 white women of privilege, traveling around buying crap. Well my friends let me tell you. SATC was not always the way it is now. Once upon a time, (that time being 1998) an 18 year old black male lived in Ky and his only portal into the cultural artistic world of NYC was this cable channel called HBO, who just premiered a show about NYC called SATC. It blew my mind. Now, the girls are about fighting in the streets of the middle east over condoms and birkin bags. But then, back in the nineties, the show was handling provocative issues regarding sex, relationships, and working women. They were feminist icons, asking probing questions that hadn’t been asked before. Could women have sex like men? Addressing motherhood and working in NYC, and privilege. Carrie in the series was a struggling writer who was about to be evicted, and was broke and bought too many shoes…her style came from thrift shopping and matching old clothes with a new scarf etc. The show made me fall in love with the city and Carrie Bradshaw. The eternal underdog you fought and cared for.
Now the ladies are all rich, and highly privileged and it’s difficult for me to feel the same bond. It’s like that friend you’ve had for years, that you always promise to catch up with. You play phone tag for months, email and text. Then finally you make a lunch date and you meet and hug, and sit down to talk. Slowly as they are going on and on about things you couldn’t care less about, you realize the sad truth. You’ve grown completely apart. They care about different things than you, and you are in different worlds. It isn’t anyone’s fault, relationships take work, and both of you had other work you cared about. So you both go through the motions, have a nice lunch, hug goodbye and leave promising to not let so much time pass before you see each other again. However you know you will never speak again. There will be no fight, no big breakup, but you know it’s over. You’re both too different, both too changed.
That’s how I felt watching the second SATC movie. Like something was lost and had died. Carrie was always her best when she was struggling and trying to figure things out. My favorite part of the second movie was when carrie ran into Aiden, and she started struggling with her old and new life. Her issues with the New Yorker also brought the messy Carrie back we all fell in love with. Perfect, put together Carrie isn’t who we identify with. It might be who we want to be, but it’s not what we know. The Bradshaw trying to get her life together and figure things out is who we mirror and can empathize with. I was trying to figure things out and our journeys were the same. Especially when I moved to NYC. I felt like the black male Carrie Bradshaw. I was running around NYC having adventures in relationships and love, constantly broke, and figuring out how to stay stylish on negative funds, and figuring it all out with friends who were in the same boat.
So I am torn. While I would love to have Carrie over for mimosas and discuss sex, and our old lives in NYC. I feel like the thrill is gone, and we’ve grown apart.