Last week brought such horrors and such wins, and a clear racial thread between them. On Wednesday the day began with a historic Senate-runoff win, part of a decade-long effort of community organizing led by politician Stacey Abrams. That afternoon, a mob of white supremacists stormed the Capitol wearing MAGA hats, brandishing weapons, and waving Confederate flags. This clash of opposing forces set the Internet into a tailspin.
And so I couldn’t help but wonder…was Sex and the City genre-defining or barrier-shattering? It’s a series now derided in part because of its focus on women and their aspirations—whether for marriage, career or sexual proclivity. Like all of-their-time shows, it has aged in a way that feels uncomfortable in retrospect, with a quiet misogyny peppering each endeavor, and outfits that would never repel a man. You have to park your wokeness to enjoy those six seasons, but enjoy them I do. Sex and the City doesn’t need a revival, but whatever’s happening on Twitter that day, it’ll take the edge off.
As storylines unfolded, we weren’t constantly reminded of the limitations of womanhood, of the plight, there was always a relief from the heaviness. It was real-time glamour and poise, irreverent and camp, and all the other things needed for us to be entertained. Of course, that didn’t stop it bleeding out into the public consciousness and trickling into our aspirations: the show was a covetable fantasy, rooted in reality, but never true to life.
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