“Welcome to the age of “uninnocence”. No one has ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’, and no one has ‘Affairs to Remember’… Instead, we have breakfast at 7am, and affairs we try to forget as quickly as possible. Self-protection and closing the deal are paramount. Cupid has flown the co-op.”
— Carrie Bradshaw
The year is 1998, and we’re gifted ‘Sex and The City’. The birth of Candace Bushnell’s semi-biographical masterpiece onto the small screen. Manhattan. Cocktails. Unapologetic sex in designer heels.
The tv show defined a generation of women. Women found control in their relationships. And their perception of their place in…
The short answer is no.
We’re wise enough to know that the love fairy tale doesn’t exist. We know these are stories set in a land where people don’t age, evil people suffer in misery, and the heroes find happiness.
With our wisdom and dating maturity, we know the fairy tale doesn’t exist. So with this tiny part of cynicism instilled into us, we give up on the idea of finding “Mr/Miss Right”. And settle for “Mr/Miss Right Now”.
Too often we compromise more than we should. We give up on being with someone we’re attracted to, that makes us…
We’ve changed our entire way of living. We’ve been fighting an invisible illness that has ripped us away from the people we love. It has changed our views on love and humanity.
We’ve had everything we’ve ever known about life turned upside down.
Our patience is thin. When we want to date, when we’re given the measly amount of time to visit a restaurant to mingle with our desired sex, we want simple.
Pandemic aside, it’s about time we ditched the antiquated dating rules. The dating laws defined by romance movies and novels with Fabio lookalikes on the cover. …
I’ve been thinking a lot about Carrie Bradshaw’s life.
Less thinking, more analysing.
The television show, more so than the book, depicts the unattached writer as a free-spirited goddess. A writer who works from home, who possesses the finances and time capacity for a luxurious lifestyle. All without arduous hours over the keyboard.
Carrie’s represents the writer fallacy. An ability to enjoy extended lunches no matter the day. The flexibility for all hours affairs followed by nightly cocktails. But her unrealistic workload, of producing one article per week, is the clincher.
Characters like Carrie Bradshaw has generations envious of the…
Episode Nine. And Manhattan is wondering if we can truly have it all.
The people who look appear euphoric are miserable. The smiles are false, and they’re marrying for convenience rather than love. The singles are outcasts. The divorcees appear scared. And the gays face continual isolation from their nearest and dearest.
We’re in a time when wanting more is in fashion. It’s all about Monolo and more. When settling is something we question rather than blindly accept.
But are these still the times we’re living in now?
“It’s always better to marry someone who loves you more than you…
When you hear the sordid details of a heated argument, who do you believe? Are you inclined to trust the person you know better? Are you inclined to trust the person who speaks the calmest?
Or are you fixated by facts, and find yourself believing the story most credible?
The problem is with every story, there are three versions of the same events. The story from Person A, Person B and the truth. The problem is that the three very rarely align. Whilst there may be some overlapping facts, it’s impossible to know who is right.
Recently, Olivia, one of…
In a weird way, it was so cliched.
I thought people would get more creative about where they hid their arousal material. At least in a place where their partner would be less likely to look. Behind his cricketing uniform would have been better. I would have never found them there.
But there was this stack that wouldn’t move. Magazines specifically, but I never questioned what else there was. Upon reflection, there was likely more. Videos, downloaded pictures, who knows?
And as we became closer, committed more of our lives to each other, as we explored what it meant to…
Yes, you read that correctly. Three weeks. When we made the decision, we hadn’t even had the ‘conversation’. Are we official? What does our relationship look like?
I knew straight away that I couldn’t spend a night without lying next to him. I knew that I wanted to wake up next to him every day, and the idea of that not happening tortured me. And without prompting, he admitted to that too. He said that to me first.
We were that type of couple. We moved at lightning speed, yet it felt incredibly comfortable. …
I remember looking at my friend Julie, with her impatient eyes staring a hole through my core. She wanted to know, desperately. She was a heartbeat away from begging, the undignified type that ends in tears and binge eating.
Please don’t make me answer that, I pleaded inside.
The reality is that no one wants to answer that question. Though we may appreciate the consideration of our opinion. Though we may appreciate the confidence to ask the question. The reality is that when asked that question, we’re obligated to answer it.
And answering that question can never go well, especially…
Episode eight. The age of the threesomes. Or at least for Carrie and her friends. There are threesomes everywhere. Everyone is either in one, talking about them, or fantasising about them. Either way, three’s a party in Manhattan.
The idea of the threesome doesn’t seem as controversial or between the sheets as it was when this episode aired.
The naughtiness of the threesome doesn’t seem to stack up quite to the Fifty Shades of Grey normalcy. What was controversial in this episode doesn’t seem so shocking. The world is less taken aback by the show’s liberal exploration of sex.