Losing my Sex and the City virginity

Living with TFC (three friggin’ channels) has its ups and downs.

Ups: you read more, exploit the internet more, talk to people more, and, for me, write more.

Downs: you live under a cultural rock and miss out on cultural phenomenons like Sex and the City.

Fortunately CTV bought rights to air The Sopranos, so I didn’t miss that powerhouse.  In fact, I learned it wasn’t about a bunch of singers (like The Tenors or The Baritones.)

I like sticking to water. Free blissful water instead of pricy cocktails.

My misconception with Sex and the City is that I always thought it was Sex in the City.  Pretty bad mistaking a conjunction with a preposition.  But I digress.

I’ve always been a keen reader of Cosmopolitan, which glorifies the kind of lifestyle I always expected of a show like Sex and the City.  Young women today are professionals who enjoy sexy clothes, good looking bachelors, and trying new positions.  This isn’t to say that you can’t criticize the heterosexism of the magazine (or the fact that young women today want nothing more than Jimmy Choos and a shirtless boy toy.)

But, having said that, it does challenge the Victorian notion that women would like to lie back and think only of England.

Sex and the City does the same thing.  It argues that men aren’t the only ones out there looking for a good time.  Even better, Sex and the City doesn’t focus on young women under 21.  Instead, it features women in their late 30s and early 40s who are not ready to settle down and become suburban soccer moms.

This week, I did lose my Sex and the City virginity by watching the first movie.  I liked that it introduced the characters and assumed some of us (who live under a rock) may not have seen the original series on HBO.

I’m not sure I get the label love (but when you’re plump and po’, labels aren’t exactly your friend) but I enjoyed the joie de vivre that emanated the movie, even when things weren’t exactly looking up.  Of course, it’s hard to be depressed when you’re flouncing around a Mexican resort.  (OMG I must see the Caribbean before I die.  FYI: When there, stay away from weird puddings or wear Depends.)

Though Sex and the City suggests women’s liberation has freed the second sex from the oppressive idea sex is only for reproduction or to please your man, it shows how women still strive to find their knight in shining armour when he may only be a fool wrapped in toil foil.

After losing my Sex and the City virginity, I’m on the fence as to whether it should be a cultural phenomenon.  I did enjoy its humour (and the pillow-obsessed pooch who still hadn’t lost her urge) and some of the tough problems it tried to tackle.

Question is, does it mock the Cinderella complex or reinforce it?  I think to answer this, I’ll just have to watch the movie’s sequel.


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