Friday, June 6, 2008

         This past week, with my boyfriend working and my roommates elsewhere, I found I had the apartment all to myself.  Instead of being responsible and getting stuff done around the house, I chose to spend $12 of my limited funds on a movie ticket to see Sex And The City.  By myself.  On a Tuesday night.  I know, I know.  For a long time, I considered myself above the hype of this unrealistic HBO original program.  I was put-off by the character driven t-shirts, as if women could be put into these four limited categories; Carrie, Samantha, Miranda, & Charlotte.  Simply ridiculous.  I mean, I lived in New York City and I didn’t drink Cosmos, own any

designer labels, or live in an apartment by myself much less on the Upper West Side.  And the puns, oh, the horrible puns.  How could anyone under 40 (and not wealthy) possibly relate to this show?

        Then, I got dumped.  My friend, Lauren, was sweet enough to let me crash on her couch for a few weeks.  One night, after too many cigarettes and glasses of wine, my dear friend needed a break and put on Sex And The City.  She had just gotten HBO On Demand and was watching the series from the beginning.  I begged her to turn on something worthwhile and she convinced me there was no better time to give Carrie and the girls a chance then after a breakup.  I caved in and I’m glad I did.  Watching all those failed relationships in a row actually put my own broken heart into perspective.  The show was the most cathartic I’d ever seen.  In addition, it took place in New York City, my first true love.

           Which is why, on Sunday night of opening weekend, I showed up with my parents just in time to watch the previews and couldn’t get a seat.  All the showtimes were completely sold out.  So I came back, by myself, on this Tuesday night, and the show was still sold out.  I couldn’t believe it!  The cashier said women had been showing up in groups to see the movie at 10am in cocktail dresses.  My sister’s usher friend said young women back home in Michigan had been arriving at the local AMC wearing Manolo Blahnik’s and

Jimmy Choo’s before Noon; shoes that cost more than I make in a day.  I showed up in flip flops and a sweatshirt.  (I guess I am a Miranda.)  The lobby was filled with the largest group of women I’d ever seen in a movie theatre.  What could be the reason for this phenomenon?  I mean, I liked the show but c’mon, ladies!

           I thought back to the last time I had seen a large group of female moviegoers; Clueless, 1995.  That’s when I realized that movies with central female characters just don’t get made, especially not for women over 40.  No matter your age or economic class, Sex And The City dealt with issues that many women face; dating, marriage, divorce, sex, having babies, not being able to have babies, infidelity, equality in the workplace, finding an apartment, staying close to your friends, and keeping your sanity.  The movie was no different; predictable and totally emotionally satisfying.  Once you wade through the hideous puns, Sex And The City deals with real problems in a way that’s honest through characters that have financial success and independence, all while looking fabulous.  It’s the perfect combination of reality and fantasy, real life and guilty pleasure.  And anyone who thinks otherwise hasn’t given it a fair chance…and probably has a penis.