If you know me, you know I’m hardly one to lavish praise on myself, or cultivate delusions of grandeur. I’m typically full of self-critique. Doubt, too, though less and less.
However, the comparison has been drawn a time or two between my life and that of Miss Carrie Bradshaw, the narrator and arguably the central character of Sex and The City (SATC). Who? Me?? NO!
I couldn’t be more flattered. Her role on the acclaimed, late-night, and late HBO “romantic sitcom” revolves around her three best friends (Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha), writing a column for the fictitious New York Star, shopping on Madison Avenue, usually for designer shoes, and her yo-yo Manhattan love life.
Though she isn’t the brainy character of the show (that’s Miranda, the attorney), she is clearly cerebral, an analytical and emotionally intelligent being.
She’s laid back, but no doormat. Willing to sit back and listen to the talkers talk, and chime in when the time is right.
There are parallels, I admit. Though I don’t live in New York, I do shop compulsively, for fun, as a coping mechanism, and out of boredom. Similarly, I seem to never have money for much else. The term ‘closet poor’ is thrown around.
I write daily, in a conversational, approachable fashion. Often, with open ends and questions I pose to you, dear reader. Carrie did the same things in her column.
Like Carrie, I too have had my share of strange, oddball relationships, and keep contact with my former interests. Through much of the show’s six seasons, Carrie seems to be waiting around for her BIG relationship, which in the series’ finale, and in subsequent SATC feature films, comes in the form of her fiancé and husband, Mr. Big.
The SATC core clique also somewhat resembles my own inner sanctum of friendship and support. Liz* is balanced, happily coupled, and the responsible party. She occasionally unhinges and lets the inner party girl out. Camille* is driven, polished, and professional. Looking for love, or a fat…bank account. And Tania* is the fabulous mess, and utterly fearless friend who grabs what she wants by the balls.
*Names have been changed.
Even if the parallels end there, it’s a delightful comparison to contemplate, and a character to align with, as someone viewers of the show adored. Why not let the fantasy hang in mid air, before dispelling it?
I need to rewatch some of SATC. It was a great show.