And Just Like … That?

What I Really Think of the “Sex and the City” Reboot

by Jamie Joffe, Culture Editor

SPOILER ALERT! If you haven’t watched the latest episodes (or have been living under a rock), PLEASE stop reading now.

Like everyone else who loved the ‘90s HBO series about four fabulous singles living in New York City, my Sunday nights were spent watching “Sex and the City.” My friends and I would gather around the TV coveting Carrie and company’s Jimmy Choos and Fendi baguettes. We drank our cosmos in anticipation of our friends’ escapades – and we did think of Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha as our friends. So needless to say, I could not wait until the first episode of “And Just Like That” dropped.

Courtesy of HBO

But then… “just like that” Big was DEAD! I sobbed. This was not a coffee commercial cry by the way, but actually full hysteria. How could they possibly kill Big? Weren’t Carrie (in her epic Manolos) and Big supposed to ride off into the sunset together? Why didn’t Carrie call 911? Who smokes a cigar before they exercise?

In fact, the only highlight in that episode was that the Peloton is where Big met his fate. Personally, our Peloton has been the bane of my existence. I hate it. Quite like Big’s obsession with Allegra, my husband has been having a hot heavy affair with Emma, his virtual Peloton instructor. It’s really awkward when, during dinner, he tells me how hard his 80’s r & b ride was.

Courtesy of Peloton

The Peloton Affair offered some consolation, but not much hope for future episodes. Now that Big was dead, what was the point? If I wasn’t depressed enough, I had to up my Prozac as I continued to watch choppy storylines. Too many sloppy attempts at wokeness, too many geriatric jokes – and Miranda and Steve’s depressing marriage sent me over the edge.

I stick with it because, if for no other reason, I have been waiting 17 years for this reboot to happen and I was hoping that I would at least find redemption in Carrie’s closet. What I discovered was a lot less couture and a lot more ready-to-wear.

Unlike the original, AJLT isn’t all that optimistic. Instead of 30-somethings navigating sample sales, life and love, it showcases the indignities and obsolescence that come with getting older. And getting older is hard. Take it from a 51-year old woman who still acts like she’s 12. Though Botox has helped soften the blow (somewhat), it can’t change the fact that my children are in college and my back hurts.

In SATC, the characters believed that the only way out of life’s injustices was to be fantastic. AJLT’s reality is that aging means facing a bevy of issues and embarrassments that no Fendi bag can fix. (I finally did wind up buying that aspirational Fendi baguette, only to sell it on eBay a few years later because I needed the money for rent.)

Though Big is dead, Barney’s is still closed and it’s been jarring to see my most fab friends deal with grown-up problems, it’s a reality check that nothing stays the same. I’ve finally made peace with AJLT and will keep watching … but maybe not for the shoes this time.

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