I’m sure we all have our cultural blindspots. Bits of ubiquitous popular culture that we’re aware of, but have never really engaged in. One of those for me has long been Sex and the City. I could reference some key characters and ideas, tell you that the reboot and second film were rubbish, but not really much more than that. Oh, and that Geri Haliwell cameo.
While visiting a friend in, where else, New York City this summer I was challenged to rectify this oversight. We watched the infamous episode – actually one of the show’s last – when washed up party girl Lexi Featherston tumbles out of a window with a Splat! ‘Why is no one fun anymore?’ I enjoyed the experience, but had many questions. So I took seriously the challenge from my friend to watch the whole thing.
Cut to about three months later and I have just finished watching all six seasons, 2 movies and many podcasts. I couldn’t help but wonder, why have I waited so long to consume this wonderful show?
I’m sure all of us have been asked, with varying degrees of scepticism or eye rolling, whether we are a Miranda, a Charlotte, a Samantha or heaven forbid a Carrie. So much of the success of the show is that these women represented for a generation of women (and gay men…) archetypes that could encompass a vast and varied experience. That a hugely-successful show centred female friendship, and had women who, though on the surface were searching for love, were really choosing each other again and again, was and remains remarkable.
I think I chose the right time to watch this show for the first time. I may not be living an it girl lifestyle in New York, but I am a single person in his later thirties who has to navigate the world of societal expectations and 2.4 kids. Many of my generation grew up with this show and Carrie Bradshaw represented an aspirational idea of what being a grown up would look like. For me, I have come to Carrie et al not as an eighteen year old dreaming of my future, but as a millennial struggling through the landscape of ‘is this it?’
So many of the stories that the women of Sex and the City face are all about expectations. Their own expectations of themselves, their friends and the men in their lives. The expectations of the world around them. Not to mention the expectations and pressures of work, gender and love. These are things that have been at the forefront of my mind even before I started watching the show and I felt myself seen and heard in the stories of the women of Manhattan.
As I get older and see the different paths that lives can take around me, it is harder than ever to be content with the particular set of opportunities and challenges I have been dealt. I sometimes feel shut out of the more ‘conventional’ life choices of those with partners, children and a seemingly settled life. Yet I struggle with the idea of settling myself, as I have enjoyed the opportunities afforded me through being single and relatively carefree. It’s a bit like when Carrie has her Manolos stolen at an affluent friend’s baby shower – her friend simply cannot understand Carrie’s life and the value the shoes hold.
So many of the stories in Sex and the City’s 6 seasons are about these four friends grappling with what they want, accepting what they have, and coming back to each other through it all. One of the most moving moments for me is when Miranda, after years of cynicism, gently cares for her mother in law at the show’s end. She has learned to open herself up.
Without a doubt my favourite man in the show is Steve. When he says to Miranda ‘I love having your friends over’, I could shed a tear for a partner eager to accept the other as they are, including recognising that their friends are their family too.
These women, through it all, come back to each other. Sat at that table in the cafe. When Miranda shares her pregnancy while Charlotte is struggling with her fertility. When Samantha shares her cancer diagnosis (even at Miranda’s wedding – they are family, it needs to be discussed right away). When Carrie has yet another Big-related realisation or crisis – no matter what, they chose each other.
I know I have some people, friends and family, in my life who I choose to come back to. It’s hard when we move, things change, paths diverge. But I hope that we can all find those to return to time and again. Even if we don’t have wardrobes to match Carrie, we all need to find community and love like hers.
‘Go get our girl.’

