let’s get carried away – again!
I HAVE BEEN INDULGING in a guilty pleasure TV binge lately that’s made me ever so terribly happy. It began around the time America voted in its new President. There my flatmate Sophie and I were, sitting on our sofa, not knowing quite what to do with ourselves, the world or our Sky Box Set selection, when Soph gingerly mooted: ‘Shall we watch
Sex And The City?’ She asked in that manner of someone suggesting a slightly embarrassing, out there, not-quite-kitschenough-to-be-acceptable pursuit. Cos, let’s face it, since its demise (and god what a grizzly demise that second film was), SATC has become a bit passé, hasn’t it? All those ‘which character are YOU?’ quizzesquizzes combined with the crashing realisation that no one could ever afford Carrie Bradshaw’s life made us file it away as a fond phase from yesteryear.
Then came last Monday, the Grazia conference, and Charlie, our fashion news editor: ‘So, in surprising news, stats from Net-a-porter tell me that, for once, a celebrity fashion range is selling really well… SJP’S shoes. Her gold dancey-
looking sandals sold out globally in days.’
Then she said, ‘And so, ahem, I got to thinking, a lot of key catwalk looks from this season can be traced back to Carrie’s eclectic style. You know: the knee-high Argyle socks – see Prada A/W ’16 – the slogan Dior T-shirt first time around, the sculpted-waist blazers à la new season Balenciaga. So, we’re calling it, Carrie’s back in fashion!’
Feeling buoyed, I decided to confess my TV binge and the joyful reaction was unprecedented. ‘The thing about Carrie is you wanted to be her,’ declared our creative director, Caz. ‘She was the first woman on TV to dress for women,’ chimed in our editor, Tash. ‘And while we’re all undoubtedly far more like Hannah from Girls in the bedroom, we’d like to think we were Samantha,’ said our features director, Emily.
And we all agreed that while SJP may be currently back on screens in Sharon Horgan’s acclaimed Divorce – it ain’t a patch on SATC.
All the experts will tell you that when troubling times come along, nostalgia becomes a safe haven to retreat to.
In the early seasons, Carrie’s Manhattan was pre-9/11; her Paris pre-bataclan. It was ground-breaking, life-changing feminism at its finest. During my recent TV reminisce, I have actually been astounded by how unapologetically racy it was. And fun. It made us all feel there was nothing we couldn’t do, nothing we couldn’t wear and no one we couldn’t sleep with. Yes, it was ludicrously fantastical, but we knew that, and that’s what made us love it more. Yes, Carrie was a bit of a self-centred whingeing nightmare at times, but can’t we all be?
It was pre-social media, when women stood up for each other instead of hiding behind their screens posting poison. (Who can forget Charlotte bashing Big with her bridesmaid’s bouquet after he jilts Carrie at the altar?) And finally, of course, it was America pre-president elect Trump. Indeed, Sophie and I happened to watch an episode when, in an attempt to bed a celibate monk, PR supremo Samantha brags, ‘I will organise you a glittering fundraiser with the best guest list in Manhattan; I can even get you Donald Trump.’ Somehow, we think Samantha Jones wouldn’t be making such a brag today. So, go forth, dust off your Manolos, gather your girlfriends, drink Cosmopolitans and pore over old box sets. We don’t care how basic that sounds, we all need it right now.
KE Y CATWAL K LOOKS CAN B E TR ACED BACK TO CARRI E’ S ST YL E – SHE’ S BACK I N FASHION