When it comes to life, I couldn’t help but wonder… is Sex in the City so off base?

I first watch Sex in the City back when I was 22 and living with sorority sisters. A past favorite, Kim, and I would curl up in her bed, stuffing our faces with chocolaty snacks and pretzels, while getting our fill of the girls. I’m pretty sure we watched every episode, taking breaks for air only when necessary. College classes obviously weren’t a priority for about a week till all six seasons were completed. Everything was so perfect – the shoes and clothes, the dream careers, the sexual adventures and the ideal cluster of friends. On the flip side and out of our apartment, college wasn’t really so different to be honest. I spent way too much money on shoes that didn’t fit, hung out with a variety of different gals depending upon the time of day, worked out all the time and of course, enjoyed dating and ordering lemon drop martinis (insert Mr. Yuck face here).

However, anytime I watch the re-runs that TiVo deems suitable – which is about 40% of the 94 episodes – I see the same trends over and over again. No one really ever sees the girls working. Whenever Samantha is “working”, she’s usually blowing Richard or drinking at some delightful cocktail party that she booked. I’m unfamiliar with the breed of party coordinators who are allowed to drink on the job in such an obvious manner! Jealous. Charlotte somehow gets a gorgeous, spacious condo in the middle of NYC for free regardless of Bunny’s nasty attempts to snatch it away. When has anything like that happened if kids aren’t involved!? The woman broke  up with her husband because he couldn’t get “Skooner” to perform. Oh sure, she wanted babies too but Tray’s real issue was a little more personal, in my opinion. Yet after bashing his manhood, somehow secures a penthouse suite and marries her divorce lawyer. Explain.

Powerhouse Miranda, who’s ironically played by a gay woman, is the only one who seems solid but she’s a complete bitch and is “all inside her own head”, says Carrie. How the F does she work 60 hours a week and make babies when her husband is such a doofus? Sure, I cry like every other woman when I watch the bridge scene in the Sex in the City movie. And I do like Steve, but I’d just sure as hell NEVER date him. While this dynamic duo was inevitably thrown into the plot to show how opposites attract, I just found the entire connect a bit forced.

Now with Carrie, my issues lie in the fact that she got my dream job working for Vogue without struggling too much. Oh jeez, I’m drunk at Vogue! Oh shoot, my building’s going co-op and I just dumped my money bags boyfriend because I still love Big! Blah. Lemme tell ya, if you’ve ever interned for a city newspaper, the sex columns do not get handed out flippantly! You’re editing the weather section and the editorials; that’s how you start. When I did get hired, it was part-time and I paid per story. Vogue success story, Ms. Carrie Bradshaw, however, has globs of money to spend on shoes, dresses, parties, apartments, hair products, and lunches with the girls. How does she pay for these things? After I passed my wine exam, I pulled a Carrie! Oh sure. I went out, I bought oysters, drank brut rosé, indulged all around Newbury Street and thoroughly enjoyed myself. That was just Day 1. Then for the next two days, I lunched with a few gal pals, went shopping and had myself a real Sex in the City stint.

As close as I get to real life Sex in the City... notice how inexpensive everything around me is!

But I can’t hack that every day. Whenever I’m watching my beloved show – for as much as I rant, I truly love the girls – I can’t help but wonder… Are their lives completely unobtainable? Aren’t the girls supposed to model what successful women typically do each day? Two years ago when I moved to Boston, I knew nobody. The TV characters really were my only interaction with other women. But now as I’m a young professional with the same wants and desires as I had when I lived on my parents’ dime in college, I find myself having less and less in common with the ole faithfuls.

When it comes to Sex in the City, I couldn’t help but wonder… is it all just an act?


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