Th e 90s were a simpler time – so don’t guilt us about Carrie and Co
PLEASE, millennials. I’m begging you. If you’re feeling a strong urge right now to pen yet another caustic think-piece about the problematic legacy of ‘Sex and the City’ on the occasion of its 20th anniversary, step away from the computer.
I’ve read all the criticism about the show: it’s too materialistic, the women aren’t good feminists, they’re apolitical, they’re obsessed with men when they should be more independent.
And sure, from a 2018 perspective, maybe those arguments hold water.
But ‘Sex and the City’ – by which I mean the TV show, not the two execrable movies – made perfect sense when it was made. You see, once upon a time, way back before Lena Dunham and problematic white privilege and arguing on Twitter with people you’ve never met about third-wave feminism, there was an era called the 90s, which was basically like an extended economic boom.
The gig economy hadn’t been invented yet so people had actual 9-5 jobs and the notion of buying a pair of Manolo Blahniks just to hit town on Saturday night did not seem all that far-fetched, even for journalists who wrote one column a week.
This economic exuberance had a knock-on effect for working single women, who suddenly found themselves with more power than ever before. Question was, what to do with it? And that’s what the show was all about: the battle between the traditional romance plot and the lure of being an independent trailblazer. ‘Sex and the City’ worked for us because it met us where we were at, figuring out how to work, live and love at a time when multiple new avenues were opening up.
But the difference between then and now is that 20 years ago, pre-smartphone, you could just enjoy the show for what it was, without endless ‘whataboutery’ and negativity emanating from your Twitter feed.
And so the fact that the main characters were all white and all straight seemed like a plot decision rather than a political statement. And you could revel in the novelty of seeing women depicted in such a full-blooded, deep-throated way on screen, without once feeling the need to ask yourself if Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte were good feminists. No one cared. The women were just being themselves, for good or for ill, and that was enough for those of us who loved the show. But those were simpler times, when it felt like equality was on the march, rather than being in retreat in virtually every public arena.
They seem distant now, but please believe us: ‘Sex and the City’ truly was a wonderful, groundbreaking thing. It was a beautiful, fiercely funny depiction of flawed friendships and the excitement and disappointments of sex and romance, and that’s before we even get started on the heavenly clothes. Don’t ruin it for us now. It’s all we had. I miss it.