Dear Sex and the City, exactly where would this world be without you? How would we function, define ourselves and know how to act when it comes to dating in New York City? How would we know how to exist, in general, in accordance to the laws of life, if it had not been for you?
Without you, all of us would be nothing. We wouldn’t be capable of realizing our own dreams or understanding such important terms like “frenemies,” or “tookus-lingus.” We wouldn’t be able to pigeonhole ourselves into only one of four types of women—as clearly, only four types exist—nor would the world be able to reference you on a daily basis. You were great in your heyday, Sex and the City, but like every relationship with an iconic (yes, it’s often called this) TV series, we’ve seen better days. It’s time we break-up; it’s time we all, every one of us, break-up with you and move on with our lives. In fact, we shouldn’t even keep in touch. You’re ruining everything.
When HBO’s Girls first aired, the show was immediately dubbed Sex and the City for women in their 20s. Hannah is to Carrie, as Marnie is to Miranda, as Shoshanna is to Charlotte, as Jessa is to Samantha, and there’s little space to argue it. As for the “Big” role, you can’t completely equate that character to Hannah’s Adam Sackler, but considering the initial unattainable vibe and the challenge it was to get him to be her boyfriend, there are definitely more than a few parallels. And just as it was when Sex and the City first aired on HBO in 1998, women are yet again defining themselves by these characters. In 1998, I was Carrie with a dash of Samantha; in 2012, I’m Hannah with a dash of Jessa. If I don’t use HBO characters to explain myself, I lose all sense of meaning. I might, god forbid, have to be me.
No matter where you live, it’s probably hard to get through a day without a mention of or a reference to a Sex and the City situation. Every time someone has a break-up it’s compared to Carrie and Big, when your friend does something that might fall under the tier of promiscuous, she’s pulled a “Samantha,” and if I have to listen to my friend Matthew go on and on anymore about the “hot French twinks in that episode where Carrie is in France with the short Russian,” I may scream. However, I’ll be a hypocrite in doing so; I’ll probably quote the series at some point within the next 48 hours. It will awkward and embarrassing, but it’s sometimes all I know. I am the Sex and the City generation (http://thegloss.com/culture/sex-and-the-city-middle-age-women-830/), and if I wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter because it’s still everywhere. What poster does Girls’ character Shoshanna have on her wall in her apartment? How old would she have been when the show premiered? About 11 or 12—maybe even younger.
Whenever a series that’s about single people in a city launches on any network, Sex and the City is used as an explanatory analogy. It’s as though a show that centers around the lives of single men and women can’t stand on its own without this comparison. From Girlfriends (about African-American ladies, although canceled in 2008) to Lipstick Jungle (another Candace Bushnell novel) to Hunting Season (on LOGO now about gay fellas), all of these shows found themselves labeled with “the Sex and the City for [insert a demographic here.]” It’s exhausting, boring and unoriginal to boot.
The only way we can break free of this and escape the never-ending semblances is to make a pact with ourselves and the rest of world to kick our Sex and the City addiction. The world functioned just fine long before Carrie Bradshaw and company penetrated our homes through the television, so we can live that way again. We can live in a Sex and the City-free society if we really want to, and honestly, we’ll be better for it.
Although hard at first, break-ups actually lead to good eventually. We’re able to get ourselves back, appreciate time with our real life friends as opposed to douchy television characters that are unable to love us in return, and we’ll finally be forced to use maybe, oh I don’t know, literature or art as a means to quell heartbreak or justify everyday mishaps as opposed to Carrie’s drama. People will stop living out the dreams that were prescribed to them by a show that’s been over for eight years now. It will be glorious! We will live again! We will be free.
The next time you find yourself mid-conversation with someone and something that could be equated to Sex and the City comes up, stop yourself. You can have the thought, you can even allow the words to do some dallying around on the tip of your tongue, but that’s where it should come to an end. This isn’t just a one-on-one break-up; this is a group break-up. We can’t do it alone; we need everyone in on this one if we’re to get through it with our sanity intact. All break-ups have some negative residual effect at first, and Ben & Jerry’s can’t solve everything.
So who’s in? Can we finally kick the SATC ladies to the curb?
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