It’s a nasty thought that SJP isn’t nice
DAY Five of the SJP versus Kim Cattrall Scandal, and only one thing is clear. We are never going to know what really happened.
To recap: SJP sent condolences to Kim after the death of her brother, Kim very publicly threw them back in her face, calling her “cruel” and stating, “you are not my friend”.
We can hear from all the experts, sources and friends of both women ad nauseum, for ever, but it pretty much comes down to she said/she said, so we’ll have to make our own minds up about what we think went down.
The whole episode has been extremely depressing.
It’s really disheartening that the truth about the relationships on Sex And The City – a show about strong female friendship – only appears to confirm some lazy clichés about women. But mostly it’s awful because I simply cannot
bear the idea that Sarah Jessica Parker might not be nice.
I’ve loved her since I first saw Footloose as a teenager. I was obsessed with Sex And The City. Other things helped – the outfits, marrying Ferris Bueller – but whenever she was interviewed, SJP came across as unstarry, funny and sweet.
Obviously I wouldn’t be so deluded as to form such a strongly-held opinion of someone without meeting them in real life though. I have spent time with Sarah Jessica in person, too.
When the first SATC movie was released, I was sent by this paper to have my photo taken with her on the red carpet.
I spent the whole day preparing. I’d been dressed by friends who worked in fashion, so that SJP would recognise me as someone with the same interests, and be impressed with how on trend I was. I’d rehearsed
I have loved her since I first saw Footloose
things to say to her that would best illicit a lengthy, satisfying response which would end with her asking if we could be best friends.
When the moment came, I was so overwhelmed and star-struck, I went to pieces. We posed for the photographer, I screamed the un- reply able-to“I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU !!!!!!” in her face, and then became transfixed by my own hand. We’d put our arms round each other for the snap and MY HAND WAS TOUCHING SARAH JESSICA PARKER’S DRESS. She noticed me noticing this, and fled. My point? She fled nicely. She looked more concerned and sympathetic than frightened or angry (although let there be no doubt she was definitely both). The photo of SJP and me – where I am wide-eyed with insanity, and for some reason jubilantly punching the air – is the worst (of me – she looks great of course) ever taken. Meeting your idol should be a beyond proud moment – after all, most people aren’t lucky enough to even get close. But both the image itself and the memory it provokes are so upsetting that I can’t even have the picture in a frame in my house. That’s basically a metaphor for my life, but let’s not dwell. The fallout from SJP V KC is that now I’m scared. If something can happen that means there’s a question mark over Sarah Jessica Parker, anything is possible. Which personal hero will be called into question next? And more importantly, how will we – the nobodies to whom they’re really Somebody – cope? I’m going to have to get tough, I think. So if anything scandalous comes out about Adele, Sharon Horgan, Bryan Cranston, Obama, Tina Fey or Jennifer Aniston, you may consider this my official resignation from the human race.