‘Sex in the City’ glamour beats office politics
I mean, I watched “Sex and the City,” the film.
There I was among hundreds of fellow gals who were looking forward to the opening weekend and a few boys who were apparently dragged to the theater by their girlfriends for whom the series is a sacred religion.
When that opening music started to fill the theater (I know some of you are already humming the tune now), some of the girls were even cheering in delight while their boyfriends were getting ready to go out for a cigarette or a trip to the restroom.
Sorry if you are suffering Sex and the City fatigue, but please tolerate another mention of the 1998-2004 TV series here, where you must have heard and seen more than enough of Carrie Bradshaw and her three best friends.
I also have to confess that I’ve had more than my fair share of the series, whose six seasons are constantly rerun on a cable channel in the wee hours of 1:30 a.m. on weekdays and 8 a.m. on weekends.
Still, the movie version was an inevitable step to drawing the curtain on the series, although it still remains the mystery of mysteries how Carrie manages to keep buying away $525 pairs of shoes by doing nothing but writing columns.
What remains in my memory, however, after more than two hours of the film is nothing more than a parade of luxury labels that shone brighter than the foursome.
There was not enough Miranda, who usually gives her signature funny, cynical remarks.
And Carrie looked like a simple mannequin for commercializing all the labels on the dresses that she wore.
Plus, I didn’t want to see Samantha and her Smith putting a period on their relationship, and I didn’t need to see Charlotte fouling her pants.
With a bitter aftertaste, I even felt sorry for my boyfriend who gave up “Kung Fu Panda” for my Sex and the City religion.
So I planned a little protest, as I vetoed my longtime Saturday morning routine of waking up for the rerun of the series on the cable channel OnStyle.
I have also managed to stay away from the 1:30 a.m. weekday reruns so far. After all, it seems about time to be a grown-up and bid farewell to the show and live my life in a state of reality that is immune to Sex and the City.
For a sudden change of lifestyle, however, I needed consolation, and, well, I found “Lipstick Jungle,” another American TV series by Candace Bushnell, the original creator of Sex and the City, on the same channel.
Airing Mondays and Tuesdays at 11 p.m., the show bears a broad tagline of legitimate Sex and the City offspring, yet it’s more about addressing the issues of office politics, ambitions and the work-home dilemma facing working women.
The show’s three high-powered friends ? one of them is the 1980s hot icon Brooke Shields ? rarely meet for laid-back brunches; they are seen more in their offices.
This Monday’s episode had Nico (Kim Raver), the successful chief editor of a gossip magazine, getting driven into a corner after having improper relations with a photographer’s assistant; Wendy (Brooke Shields), a successful movie executive, getting into a fight with her teenage daughter; and Victory (Lindsay Price), a fashion designer, getting a massive headache because of her billionaire boyfriend.
Well, I have to confess that what remained after the show was more of a headache than an expectation for the next round of troubles.
I even found myself secretly waiting for 1:30 a.m. for, well, the reruns of Carrie and her three friends.
After dozens of reruns, the series again went back to the very first season last week, and Monday’s episode had Carrie and Mr. Big on their first date.
Well, maybe just one more week of the show wouldn’t hurt that much ? or so I hope in the Neverland of Sex and the City.