So I'm sure there are lots of feminists out there who are all like you can't love Sex and the City and be a good feminist. So maybe I'm not a good feminist, because I sure do love me a good pair of 3 inch heels and there is nothing that beats a mean cosmopolitan, even if it was made popular by a completely unrealistic and somewhat ridiculous show about 30 (now 40) something women in New York City.
So here is my personal review of Sex and the City, which I watched on opening night, at 2 am, with 300 of my closest friends (ok, not really), in Times Square, at the heart of New York City:
**** Spoiler Alert ****
(1) Women are scary. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Because there was a kind of fierce competitiveness to get the best seats in the house that makes Hillary's perserverance pale in comparison. It was close to a stampede, people. And I could only giggle, because if we could just channel some of that energy into something but Chanel, man, we would rule the friggin' world.
(2) Men are the new accessories. Big, Steve, Harry and Smith had like maybe 10 minutes on screen for a 2 1/2 hour movie. And they were morons. How fabulous is that?
(3) Miranda is a lawyer! There is a scene where Miranda is totally a bitch on wheels and is trying desperately to get the check at the end of a family meal even though the saintly nanny hasn't finished her dinner and Steve would rather luxuriate in the moment. But she has a brief to work on, goddammit, and she's friggin' tired. Can we say, me? And like every night of the week? Then, Miranda forgets that she hasn't had sex with Steve in like 6 months. Ok, maybe it's not 6 here, but sometimes, it's pretty darn close, and my poor DH is a saint to put up with it (though Steve is still a moron for doing what he does).
(4) Sometimes, there is a reason to pay the big bucks for bridal couture. Because, OMG, how hawt was SJP in that Vivienne Westwood. That dress did seriously up the ante. Because if I had that dress, you would not be able to pry me out of it until every guy I've ever dated, had a crush on, or even looked at with interest saw me in it.
(5) Shoes and zexy outfits do not a CEO make. Excellent article in the NYT? WSJ? about what women in power in the real world wear compared to what women in SATC wear. Basically, it comes down to if you want to succeed, keep it subdued, keep it flare-free, keep it un-zexy. But who the fuck cares. Because the SATC gals are fabulous, and we're fabulous for thinking they're fabulous, and we all need a little eye candy now and then. And who the fuck is wearing that stuff to work anyways?
(6) Skinny preppy girls can kick a banker's ass any day of the week. And boy, does Charlotte ever kick Big's ass. Her maternal growl was so palpable that she made me feel bad for Big.
(7) Definitely get jewelry from your men. As in the not-so-veiled reference to the auctioning off of the jewelry given by Ron Perelman to Ellen Barkin during their courtship and marriage after he unceremoniously and speedily divorced her. And the big-ol' ring that Smith buys as a gift to Samantha from the Ellen Barkin-esque auction. And the fact that economically, it made absolutely no sense for Smith to try to buy that darn ring, because had he not bid, Samantha could have bought it for half of what he ultimately paid for it.
(8) Manolos are the new ring. I asked my DH for a nice cow as an engagement present (instead of a ring, and I'm so not kidding). He didn't listen to me and do you know where my engagement ring is? At the bottom of some drawer gathering dust because my friggin fat two-pregnancy fingers can't squeeze themselves back into said engagement ring.
(9) Women are the new black. In the end, it's your sisters that you can count on. Well, them and your gay brothers.
(10) And finally.... men are the new women. Because all the men in the movie are pussies. And they all learn that if you screw with one of us, then you screw with all of us, and we're a force to be reckoned with.
I'm totally going to pay another (what is the price of movies now?) quazillion bucks to watch the movie in the theatres again. Maybe I'll actually pay attention to the plot this time, instead of getting constantly sidetracked by the fab shoes that I'll never own.