How can I be a gender columnist and not talk Sex and the City? I was resisting it, because I hate having opinions in an overcrowded space. Besides, I might have nothing to add that hasn’t already been said. But I am guilty of two things:
a) Taking a quiz to find out which Sex and the City character I am most like
b) Organising a girls night out, where me and a high estrogen population of 40 will arrive at Wink at the Taj President (may be not in our Manolo Blahniks and Cavallis), where we will down Cosmopolitans and Winkitinis with élan, pick on sushi and marshmallows with a certain daintiness and then head to the actual movie screening at Inox. Where, I hope we will hoot for our empowered gender with full lung power (it will help if there are more Samanthas in the room)
I must admit I was a bit disappointed to find out I was Carrie in my quiz. Yes, I have a bit of her style and may be her hair, although I don’t do shoes like she does, neither do I have a shrinking bank account and credit card bills to pay forever. Even so, Carrie is the most flamboyant mascot of the series—she has the best job (someday, I want to be able to write just this column and nothing else), she seems to be the one who is the real thinker, and she does write a column, like me. The reason I was disappointed was, to me, Carrie will always be the emotional fool who has no control over her life or her finances really. I am too smart to be at the beck and call of the Bigs of the world, and I am much too practical to be her, although I get her ideology completely.
But then, look at the choices. Samantha is too over-the-top-slutty and has no benchmarks, and Miranda is the workaholic I never want to be, although I come closest to her in my uprightness, independence and financial acumen. As for Charlotte— well, who wants to be Charlotte anyway?
The point is, there is a little bit of Carrie in all of us, who is in awe of a Miranda and finds the earnestness of a Charlotte and the balls of Samantha quite fascinating.
Here’s to her.