I’m a Carrie…and not proud of it

I feel like there is an inevitable correlation between Sex and the City and fashion in this our modern world. It’s undeniable that this television show changed the face of fashion and televisions relationship. They went from friends with benefits to fast and furious lovers and all because a wardrobe stylist kicked it up a notch. Patricia Field was hired and decided she’d be damned if the clothing the characters wore simply took a back-seat to the action. Especially in big cities where women spend more time than anywhere else making sure they are perfect before going out in public. The clothes Miranda, Samantha, Charlotte and Carrie sported through six seasons and two flicks were their own characters and set the stage for believable personality traits to be reflected upon and around them. I have faithfully watched all of the episodes of the series starting with my eldest sister and our scratchy blue couch. We would plunk down in front of the TV and watch Sex and the City late at night with each others company. While I appreciated the show like any other I never sat down and compared myself to the characters. Then all of a sudden there were T-Shirts.

Now, there’s an obvious issue at foot here. Far be it from me to the bitchy fashion police but….

That shirt is hideous.

And it’s funny to think that someone, maybe even HBO, would make a shirt for girls to feel like their favourite Sex and the City gals…and they came up with something none of the characters would be caught dead in.

And then I made the mistake of really sitting down and thinking: Which girl am I?

Then I took some quizzes. Stupid online quizzes. Not the ones that make the options obvious, the ones you cheat on because you really want to be the special movie or person you’ve always wanted to be. I answered honestly and every time I took any quiz, all Carrie all the time.

Depicted: Over-reacting

Ok…so I didn’t get quite as dramatic as the picture implies, it was really more like this:

This actually sums up a lot of feelings I have.

Far be it from me to blaspheme to any television god, where ever he or she may be, wearing a snuggie and making the perfect meatloaf, but Carrie Bradshaw is kind of a terrible person. That was part of what made the show really watchable to me. It’s fearless capturing of the awkward, un-pretty aspects of life and dating but above all the selfish nature with which we accomplish the aforementioned. Now I admit to not being perfect in any way shape or form, but Carrie commits some seriously rough romantic crimes time and time again and does it all in shoes she could have fed a small village with.  And she betrays her fiercely loyal friends time and time again for foolish materialistic reasons. They just take it and then meet with her for cosmos to, apparently, laugh at how if they were poor, things would REALLY get ugly.

Those aren't roses, they're other peoples hopes and dreams and...they aren't even trying to catch them.

I began to watch SATC again, but this time inserting myself in to Carrie Bradshaw’s place. Do I sound that way when I nitpick relationships to death? Would I freak out over doing something fun because it could potentially harm a piece of my ensemble? Would I really cheat on perfectly good Aidan with perfectly awful Big?

I mean, the man’s eyebrows are just out of control.

Regardless, I found that the answer was in my reaction to begin with. By gathering criteria like a 40’s sassy reporter and then writing about this shit on the net, I was proving the e-quiz incredibly accurate.

"And this here's the pie chart and the color coded break-down of my mental issues."

Ok. So I’m a Carrie. I do own more shoes than I should. And I do type an awful lot, and over analyze even more. But this shouldn’t mean I’m a villain. And no amount of photoshop and outrageous bastardizations masquerading as film ‘sequels’ should change that.

Although in the second film they do look awfully like Bond villains.

Mwahahaha

*Cough*

Moving on; falling victim to my own selfish need to preserve my image and sanity was the most Carrie thing I could have possibly done and I should have just admitted that maybe the hideous bespangled t-shirts had a point. We fit in, in some small respects, to each one of the women a little more than the others, and that’s all right.

At least I know I shouldn’t rock her iconic super high heels, no matter how ‘Carrie’ I act on one day or another. After all she’s what, 4’11”? You need to see her in order to film her.

Hee hee, six inch heels make me kind of a real person instead of just a fairy!

Where as on my end:

THERE AREN'T ENOUGH DR. SCHOLL'S IN THE WORRRLLLLD

Well, let’s just say, I’m hard to miss already.

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