When I’ve had a crappy day or my head is filled with made-up scenarios and situations I’ve made ten times worse by overthinking, only a trip to New York can soothe me.
Sadly I’ve neither the money nor the physical ability to hop on a transatlantic flight right now. So the next best thing is Sex And The City. I know, I know. It sounds utterly ridiculous but losing myself in the drama of four, wealthy, successful women, living it up on the streets and Park Avenue apartments of New York, is good for my mental health.
We’ve all don’t shitty things in our lives. Lied, cheated, been selfish, whatever. But somehow, watching fabulously-dressed, no f&ks-given, women make these same mistakes, is pretty spell-binding.
Carrie is awful to Big, he can’t commit. Carrie treated Aiden even worse. He needed security. Trey can’t get it up, Charlotte just wants to be loved. Harry loves Charlotte, just like she wanted, only initially she’s ashamed of him/his appearance. Miranda wants her independence, Steve just wants to adore her, and Samantha? Samantha just has it all.
Since SATC hit UK screens back in ’99, the overriding question was always, “which one are you?” Same went for The Spice Girls. The stigma being if you were a Samantha, you were a bit of a slag. Fast forward 20 years and I’m fully admitting that I’m a little bit of all of the SATC characters – guys included. Just not Berger. Don’t be like Berger.
When everything around me feels like it spiraling out of control, the ultimate chill is a full back catalogue binge. Followed closely by Gossip Girl – although I can’t see Dan as innocent after becoming hooked Netflix series ‘You’. If you know, you know.
I have deadlines looming early next week so I can’t currently afford to lose two days to New York and high fashion. I’m going straight in with the first movie. Expect tears, but an altogether much happier me in around 2 hours time.
Kate Reilly James 