Season Five, Episode One: Anchors Away!

The Summary:

Hello, dear readers! Are you ready to embark on our whirlwind tour through Season Five? Ah, Season Five. Such a short season (a mere eight episodes, and yet I will point out that the DVD boxed set costs just as much as the boxed sets for the seasons which had eighteen episodes. Not cool, HBO. Not cool.), but such an interesting one! There is much for us to discuss, to be sure!

So this, our very first episode, begins with Carrie, out and about on the town as a single lady... actually enjoying the fact she is alone. (The time to put on your best shocked and horrified face... would be now.) On a Friday night, she takes herself out to a movie, and sits there contentedly munching away on her popcorn, unruffled by the fact that she is surrounded by couples. Contentment! Comfort in one's own skin! Happiness with one's own life! Clearly... this cannot last.

And last it does not, as the writers/the universe conspire to punish her for at once being happy and single. (How dare she, I mean, really!) Carrie decides to take a random weekday to enjoy strolling around the city, visiting an art museum, and so on, and so forth (the living is good when you are a freelance writer in TV Land, clearly!)

Naturally, this all massively blows up in her face, with her getting caught in a rainstorm, embarrassing herself by nattering away about love and destiny to a handsome stranger (as one tends to do), to the point where he flees from her in exasperation, and encountering a truly scary Ghost-of-Christmas Future-style elderly single lady in a cafe. Said lady, we learn, broke up with her last boyfriend (one is lead to assume, during the Eisenhower administration) in the hopes of finding someone better, and consequently is now stuck sitting around forlornly in public eateries, dusting her ice cream with lithium. As is typical of single womankind.

Shaken by these encounters, Carrie agrees to go to a big party thrown by a bunch of sailors during Fleet Week (as one will), dancing and flirting at said party with the dashing Louis. Louis is charming, and they have a nice chat about love, and fate, and New York (which does NOT cause Louis to flee in terror, notably), during which Louis reveals that he simply cannot stand the Big Apple. At which point, Carrie instantly nixes him as a romantic prospect, musing that while she's not sure about what her romantic future holds, in many ways, New York is her true love, and "I can't have nobody talking shit about my boyfriend." Buh-bye, Louis! Have fun being beautiful/putting your foot in your mouth about people's beloved cities of residence elsewhere!

And what of the other ladies, you gently inquire? Well, Miranda is a brand-new mom, and finding her adjustment into mommyhood a bit bumpy. For one thing, it turns out that breastfeeding is actually pretty darned hard sometimes. For another, Steve suddenly seems to be around all the time, hanging around Miranda's house, and eating sandwiches made by her housekeeper. (I know I hate when MY housekeeper makes domestic interlopers sandwiches! Oh, wait... my housekeeper is ME.) For yet a third, Miranda is feeling left out and weird around her friends--Carrie and Charlotte are supportive about, and interested in, her new life as a mother, but Sam is visibly bored by the baby, and eager to get him (and, it inevitably follows, also Miranda) out of the way, when the ladies have fun, difficult-to-do-with-a-newborn-in-tow plans. Samantha: Kind of mean. Miranda: hurt. Baby: adorable.

What about Charlotte? Meh, nothing too embarrassing or dreadful, but overall, just kind of yawn-inducing. As her divorce proceedings... well, PROCEED, Charlotte has decided to officially transition from being Charlotte MacDougal to being Charlotte York. This... seems healthy! She has also decided (mainly at Anthony's instigation) that she needs to have sex immediately, if not sooner, to get over her marriage. (Even though... she is still actually married...?)

As such, at the Fleet Week party which the non-mommy ladies attend, Charlotte shows an officer one of her breasts (as one does, in large public venues, with tons of people around), in the hopes that this will somehow liberate her, and secure the birth of a "new Charlotte." It doesn't seem to, so much--she is kind of embarrassed (I cannot imagine why), and the officer kind of disappointed, as the Charlotte York Show goes no further then that brief flash of her upper lady-area. Ah well. At least... the party decorations looked festive?

And what of Samantha (apart from being kind of mean and exclusionary when it comes to her new-mum friend)? She is still furious with Richard for cheating on her, and embarks on various little revenge projects to fill up her idle hours. She wallpapers his neighborhood with fliers featuring his face, and the words "Cheater! Liar!" on them. (Won't someone think of the wasted paper?) She agrees to meet him for a drink, only to throw said drink in his face. (Won't someone think of the wasted alcohol?) But underneath it all, she clearly still has feelings for the oily schmuck, and the episode ends with her daydreamily listening and relistening to a voice message he left her. Healthy!

The Analysis:

LGBT Folks Watch: One of our two usual suspects, one Anthony Marantino by name. He is amusing, even if the advice that he gives Charlotte about how to move on from her failed marriage seems rather... unpleasant? I.e., he tells her that if she doesn't start having sex soon, it'll be just a "sleigh-ride into menopause." I will admit that that line made me laugh. (Mario Cantone can deliver a line, what can I say?) I will also concede that that line is intensely distasteful, and suggests (if it does not outright state) that women in or past menopause are unworthy of sexual attention and are somehow past their "sell-by date" as sexual beings. Lovely!

People of Color Watch: And in this episode, we have... three! One Asian-American woman who is Miranda's silent "baby nurse" (delightful, we needed more characters of color who are mute), the charming Chandra Wilson, who packs a lot of punch into her one scene as a lady cop, and Daniel Sunjata, who plays Carrie's brief flirtation, Louis. (I learn from the good people over at IMDB that Mr. S was named one of People's Most Beautiful People in the early aughts (well done, People!) and is a native of my adopted state of Illinois (well done, IL!)

What to make of young Louis? In no particular order: 1) Kind of nice that Carrie considers an African-American man as a love interest? Even if it is only for about five seconds, given the lily-white nature of her amorous eye elsewhere in the series? 2) What the heck is the deal with the SATC writers and the naming of characters of color? So Louis, it transpires, is from the great state of Louisiana, and Carrie (in her writerly way) gets a lot of pleasure in calling him (wait for the originality) "Louis from Louisiana." This may not be remarkable in and of itself, but combined with the fact that her African-American assistant in the first movie is named Louise, is from the great city of St. Louis, and Carrie (in her wordsmithian way) takes great joy in calling Louise (pause for the fresh innovativeness) "Louise from St. Louis," I... have concerns.

Because is it just me, or 1) is there something kind of troubling about the fact that these characters of color are clearly from somewhere else (somewhere Other, if you want to go all academic--and I do tend to), and clearly belong somewhere else? Louis isn't going to stay in New York, but rather go back to Louisiana--Louise (mild, uninteresting spoiler alert!) isn't going to stay in New York, but rather go back to St. Louis. Remind me why it is that we can't keep the majority of more substantive characters of color actually in the city, again...?

And why do I have the uneasy feeling that these characters wouldn't have gotten their fun little alliterative nicknames if they weren't people of color? We never get a white "This is Brooklyn... from Brooklyn" type character, after all. I dunno. Happy as I was to have Louis' fetching self around for an episode... something about the whole thing just doesn't seem quite right with me. (It also makes me wonder what, if I wasn't a white lady, my name on the show would have to be. I'm from New Jersey, so... "Jessie from Jersey"? "Gardenia from the Garden State"? It's a tough one to call!)

Me Being Kind of Creepily Ageist Watch: So this is purely coming from me, and not so much from the writers [hand flutters to mouth in a delicately lady-like, "You shock me!" gesture--I am admitting that I am worse than the writers here? Will wonders never cease?], but I must confess to you that, in the Fleet Week party scenes, it does rather creep me out to see our four ladies (now ranging in age from their late 30s to their mid 40s in age) flirting with an assortment of sailor boys. In large part, I hope, because many of the sailors whom we see are, indeed, boys--lads of my students' age, in their early to mid 20s. And it kind of creeps me out, to see Samantha roaming through these packs of youngsters with a predatory gleam in her eye. [Blogger deliberately avoids all references to "cougars" and "cougarism" here.]

The writers actually nod to this discomfort too, a bit, by having Carrie get told by a fresh-faced young lad she's been chatting to that she "remind[s] me of my mom." Yeouch. I hope the fact that I (and I guess the writers, to a certain extent) find grown women romantically sizing up young guys creepy does not have to do with internalized sexism (drat you, internalized sexism!), but rather to the fact that there is something empirically creepy of a 36-year-old regarding a 21-year-old as a romantic prospect (regardless of the genders involved). Because (with the inevitable caveats inserted here about how sometimes true love interevenes regardless of age, and how Jane Eyre is one of my favorite books) 21-year-olds, delightful as they are... are still kids! Leave them to dance with lasses of their own age, SATC ladies!

And While We Are On The Subject of My Weird Quibbles... Watch: What was that you said? You want to know more about my weird quibbles with this episode? Why, then, aren't you in luck! I have mentioned it on this blog before, but I will re-mention yet again that I find something a little unnerving about the pressure which is being put on Charlotte to date, to have sex, to get out and meet men... while she is, in fact, still married. She and Trey have officially separated, there is no hope of reconciliation, they are most certainly no longer a couple, but somehow it still weirds me out to hear all of the "you must find a new man NOW" rhetoric, given that she is still Mrs. Trey MacDougal. Maybe... wait until you're actually divorced to throw yourself back into the dating fray? Maybe... at least make it clear to the gents you're interested in that you are, indeed, still married? Happily, the writers seem to share my weird discomfort about this, as it comes up in a future episode. So... the writers and I are kind of in sync about something? Have the fires of hell officially turned into a frozen pond???

This Is My Very Last Weird, Not Strictly Feminist, Quibble About This Episode, I Promise... Watch: It really is. So this episode is the first post 9/11 show which SATC did, and I think they actually handled it really well, in that the writers don't give us a moment of "let us awkwardly refer to the massive tragedy/international incident which is just happened in our city in an artificial way that no human person would ever do in real life" but rather just throw the ladies back into their day-to-day lives, and have the aftermath of 9/11 be the water they swim in and the world they live in, but not something which they make stilted and inorganic references to. Well done, my writer friends!

The only moment in which 9/11 is even vaguely mentioned is when Carrie reminds her friends that it is each of their "patriotic duty as a New York woman" to go shopping--the implication being, of course, that shopping can be their way of helping to rebuild the city in the wake of the disaster.

Which... I get to a certain extent, because, of course, the economic devastation of 9/11 was considerable, and supporting NYC businesses in the wake of it was important--I guess this allusion just reminds me of rhetoric which I found kind of troubling at the time... that somehow being a consumer was the primary way to help our country get back on its feet. Not... donating to the recovery effort? Lobbying for health care for first responders? Questioning the need for a Patriot Act in the wake of the disaster? No? It seems not, my mistake!

SATC isn't a somber, political show, and I do not ask it to tackle somber, political themes... but is there a way to not always bring the female characters in the show's lives perpetually back to their role as consumers? No? It seems not, my mistake!

And At Long Last, We Make Our Way to Actual Feminist Analysis--Singlehood Edition Watch: Shall I take you on an epic journey through my reactions to the ways in which this episode tackles questions of singlehood?

Reaction #1: Oh, wow, this is so great! They are showing Carrie out and about in the world, as a happily single person! She can go to movies alone... and have fun. She can spend the evening in her own company... and enjoy herself doing so. How festive! [Blogger mood: contented.]

Reaction #2: Of course, I might have known this was all set-up for "Single Life Is Tragic and Pathetic." Did we really need to have Carrie obsessively rant at a complete stranger about love and fate? Do real single women randomly engage in such rantings to random men they encounter on the street? I... can't say I've ever done something similar, myself. Smile politely, sure. Exchange a few pleasantries about the weather, absolutely. Reveal my inmost fears and fantasies, and talk about my ex-boyfriends? Not... quite as much. [Blogger mood: Mildly crabby.]

Reaction #3: Oh, and now we have the specter of unpaired-off womanhood past the first flush of youth, and of course she is a grotesque clown figure, who has to self-medicate with quasi-illicit drugs just to get through her hopeless spinster days! [Blogger mood: Extremely crabby.]

Reaction #4: Oh, wait! Carrie just told Louis that being alone... actually isn't that bad! She said that regardless of what happens in her love life, she'll always have the madly beautiful, endlessly energetic city to inspire and enliven her. That... doesn't seem that bad! [Blogger mood: Circles back to relative placidity, with only a mild undercurrent of discontent. Phew.]

Yet More Actual Feminist Analysis--Motherhood Edition: And the series' depictions of Miranda's mothering life have begun! And... they are actually not terrible! [Blogger pauses to make a "V for Victory" sign.] Miranda is feeling a bit overwhelmed and tired by her new life as a mother, and challenged and frustrated by its sometimes uncomfortable physical realities. (She feels like a failure when she finds breast-feeding difficult, she is kind of weirded out by how radically different in size her breasts now are, etc., etc.) She's also trying to figure out how to balance her friendships with the demands of motherhood... she desperately wants for nothing to have changed, but of course... it has. She can't dash off with her friends to go shopping all afternoon, but has to go home to take care of her youngster. Grappling with that is hard enough, but having to deal with Samantha's "babies are such a drag" attitude makes things yet harder.

And I pat the show on the back for actually getting into all this stuff--what do you do if breastfeeding isn't as easy as it looks like in the handy little pamphlets the hospital gives you? What do you do when some of our friends regard your new motherhood as more of a nuisance than anything else? Rather than just fading off into a rosy Hallmark-card glow, Miranda actually has to grapple these questions... and it is pretty great. (I mean "great" as in realistic, of course... poor Miranda! Sorry for the rocks strewn across your path, here! May they soon be cleared!)

Notable Quotables:

Miranda, to her friends at the coffee shop, with young master Brady in tow: "Nothing has to change! Just think of this [Brady in his bassinet] as a big purse!"
Carrie: "Miranda... your purse just spit up."

[After listening to Charlotte react in horror over her having gone out alone on "date night"] Carrie: "Are we still going to have to call it 'date night' in our 50s?"

Next Up...?: "Original Sin," which is about the complex theological contention that all humankind are born into a state of... oh, no, wait, sorry, my mistake! This episode is, in fact, about Miranda contemplating whether or not to get Brady baptized (do it! Think of the presents!), Samantha contemplating whether or not to get back together with Richard (don't do it! Not even for the presents!), Charlotte contemplating whether or not to embrace the nutty philosophy of an unpleasant self-help guru (hint: she kinda does), and Carrie contemplating whether or not she has officially become entirely bitter and cynical, as a result of over a decade of dating life in NYC (hint: she kinda has.) Lively times ahead, to be sure!

Introducing... Season Five

Season Five... It Begins: Welcome back, mes amies! And so, now we must reflect upon and consider what treasures and delights await us in Season Five. So what do we have to look forward to (and to dread) in the "blink-and-you'll-miss-it-it's-so-darned-short" Season Five?

Look Forward To:

A goodish bit, actually, including (but not limited to):

1) Guest spots for both Nathan Lane and Amy Sedaris. They liven up the place, as you can imagine that they might!

2) Charming love interests for Carrie, Charlotte, and Stanford. (They are finally letting Stanford have a proper boyfriend??? Who is, notably, absolutely bloody gorgeous? Whatever the writers started smoking in Season Five... I am in favor of it! And... I might want some of it!)

3) Some quite swell episodes about the state of singlehood in one's 30s--they even get into a long discussion about "spinster vs. bachelor" language at one point. Go on and warm my "I turn 30 in less than three weeks" heart, why don't you?

4) Some quite nice considerations of the pleasures and exasperations of new motherhood. Turns out, being a new parent is a radically life-changing, challenging, and continually surprising thing. Shocker!

Dread:

1) You might actually think that this is a good thing (I don't know your life), but Big comes back for an episode, and... yawn. I am just not interested. Glad that Chris Noth was able to get himself a new car or whatever it is he did with the cash from his return to the SATC verse, but... please. Send him away.

2) Flickers of slut-shaming, flickers of fat-shaming, flickers of Other-ing when it comes to the Jewish folks (how exotic they are!)... some troubling flickers!

Next Up...?: "Anchors Away," in which Carrie decides that in lieu of a boyfriend, she is going to "date" the city of New York (at least introducing it to the folks will be a pleasure--trust me, they'll love it!), Miranda stumbles her way into New Mommy Life, Charlotte contemplates sleeping with unknown sailors (as one will), and Samantha fumes and fumes, and fumes about her sleazy cheating ex, Richard. I do love me a good fume!

In the Final Analysis... Taking Stock of Season Four

Readers! Once again it is my happy (well... happy from my point of view, anyway--I cannot know your sentiments on the matter) responsibility to tell you that even though I once again fell off the face of the earth for, like, a year, I am not, in fact, dead! Woooo! I am, instead, in the Midwest (allow me to forstall your inevitable "and the difference between those two states of being is...?" crack, my coastal friends--the Midwest is awesome--I live in walking distance from a huge farmer's market, and at state fairs, they sell fried butter on a stick. It. Is. Great.)

Since I posted last, I have moved to a shiny new town (so. Many. Boxes. To. Unpack.), and started a shiny new job, teaching at a shiny new school. (There is a pretty fountain outside of the building where I teach! Hooray! I love pretty fountains!)

Having finally dug my way out from under all of my boxes (Movers, to me: "Are you seriously telling me that all of those are filled with books?" Me: [Hangs head in silent acknowledgment and guilt]), purchased all the requisite furniture (somewhere to sleep? Check. Somewhere to leave all of the untidy piles of papers which I am always promising to organize, but never do? Check.), and gotten my new semester underway... I return to Carrie's stoop, to heap flaming coals upon the heads of the SATC writers once more. Ah, flaming coals. How I have missed thee! And you, of course, dear readers. You, e'en more than the coals.

Though we'll see how much "wrath of God/me, who has set herself up as God" flaming-coals-type-rhetoric we get into in this here summary of Season Four... because if you've read my rantings and ravings on the subject to date, you'll know that I actually lovvvve Season Four--it's my favorite season of the whole darned series for. Sure. But how did it do, compared to other seasons, in its representations of our friends The Gays? Of people not as lily-white as Elizabeth R smeared in mercury-based makeup? Let us see, shall we?

People of Color Watch: All right, so in Season Three, we had nineteen characters of color, five of whom were, you know, actual characters (i.e., not just the taxi driver who holds the door, or the sales clerk who has one line, but actual characters, with real weight and heft and a reasonable amount of substance to them.) And in Season Four, we have (please insert your own drumroll here, as appropriate...)--nine characters total (people who were simply physically present), and three characters of any substance. Oof. Progress--we have not made it.

If anything, I think we may have actually taken a step backwards, since one of the most prominent LGBT characters, Samantha's briefly-girlfriend Maria quickly goes from being an interesting, nuanced, real-seeming person to a screeching, loony-tunes, fiery-Latina stereotype. Boo. Maybe Season Five will introduce some characters of color of some of real complexity and depth...? [Optimism, sitting on the blogger's left shoulder, smiles weakly and uncertainly--Pessimism, sitting on her right, smirks evilly and complacently.]

LGBT Folks Watch: Well.... okay, we have to admit defeat on the characters of color front, but what about LGBT characters? Perhaps there are some glimmers of hope there? [Optimism takes a hearty swig out of what, despite the early hour, looks suspiciously like a vodka bottle. Pessimism looks ever more like the proverbial cat who has eaten the proverbial cream.] In Season Three, we had seven LGBT characters, five of whom were actually real, flesh-and-blood, significant-to-the-story type people. And this season we have... six LGBT characters total, four of whom I would say are actual characters of any note or significance. Huh. [Optimism's eyes: begin to look unpleasantly red around their rims. Pessimism: raises its fingers in what is either a V for Victory sign, or a British "sod off" gesture.]

Ah well. It seems we are destined to camp out on precisely the same ground which we were forced to dwell on in Season Three--not that many LGBT characters, and those who do appear... not a little stereotypical and troubling? Like Maria, the possessive, needy, "I value emotions over sex at all times, because I am a lady person of the female gender" lesbian lass? Or like Oliver, the "I am obsessed with sex and shopping to the exclusion of all else" gay gent?

[Optimism, seeming to rally a bit from its drunken, self-pitying stupor, makes an effort to sit up and protest.] Okay, okay--in the interests of not surrendering absolutely all to the Powers of Darkness, I will concede that 1) Once again, Anthony is one of our LGBT characters, and though the character is distinctly problematic in several ways, Mario Cantone is quite entertaining in the part, 2) Once again, Stanford is one of our LGBT characters, and Willie Garson brings tremendous wit, verve, and all-over delightfulness to what is often a flat, "I am here to say something sassy to help Carrie through her straight distress, and then disappear back into the Gay Ether, from whence I came!" type role, and 3) one of the LGBT characters of note in this season, Oliver, actually gets in some interesting, nuanced thoughts about open relationships before he and his awesome Aussie accent are shoved off-stage. [Optimism hiccups happily, seemingly unaware that it is now sitting on the empty vodka bottle.]

And what else is striking and of note in Season Four, you ask? Why, let us see!

Defeats!

I'm actually going to throw Pessimism a bone here, and start off with the bad and ugly--though perhaps it's less because I want to wallow in the negative then that I want to save all of my gushing for last. Because gush--I most assuredly will. [Pessimism--looks sulky. Kicks the now-sleeping Optimism rather sharply in the leg.]

1) SLOPPINESS AND OVERALL UNPLEASANTNESS IN DEPICTING SAM'S RELATIONSHIP WITH A WOMAN. Sigh. Do you remember the days when Samantha first started dating Maria, dear readers? Oh, those were happy days. The sun was warmer then, I think. The birds sang more sweetly--the breeze blew more gently. Maria was actually a pretty neat character back then, and Sam, though a bit flummoxed by finding herself attracted to a lady, was nonetheless receptive to the idea that she might be a smidge more sexually fluid than she'd actually thought. It was all so grown-up and complicated and thoughtful. Ah, memories!

A pity that we suddenly slid sideways into Maria being a dreary, sexless killjoy, and Samantha concluding that lesbianism just wasn't for her (even though... she'd never actually been a lesbian in the first place?), because chicks are such a hyperemotional drag. Bummer--that surely was one.

2) CLASS PRIVILEGE--LET US CONTINUE TO PRETEND IT IS NOT THERE, MUCH LIKE AN UNPLEASANT UNPAINTED PATCH ON OUR WALL, THAT WE CANNOT BE BOTHERED TO RETOUCH: (Can you tell that I've just moved into a new house, from the metaphors that I'm slinging about? My little unpainted patch is in my stairwell, in case you were wondering.) You may recall me carping, when Miranda decides to continue her pregnancy and embark on her life as a single mother, that the show doesn't pause for so much as a millisecond to reflect on the class privilege which makes Miranda's "of course I can take care of my future baby with no difficulty, and no financial aid whatsoever from its father" attitude possible.

I know this is a small piece of a much larger pie--why do we have to hear Carrie whining all the time about how poor she is, while continuing to buy Jimmy Choos by the dozen? Why do we even raise the issue of potential financial ruin only to immediately and conveniently dismiss it? The unacknowledged-class-privilege-of-our-four-leading-ladies pie--it is one which has vexed and irritated me since Season One. And I hate being vexed and irritated by pie--it is usually such a friend and ally to me!

Victories!

But despite these caveats... golly, but I do love Season Four. Why, you ask? (Or probably, don't ask--much like Optimism, you may well have sunk into a stupor at this point). In no particular order, I give you:

1) ABORTION. Women talking about it in a deep, complex, thoughtful way. Acknowledging the reality that abortions are common, that many women have them, and that their feelings about them are sometimes complicated, sometimes straightforward--but that, no matter what, the right to choose what to do with your own body is a pretty darned fantastic. YES.

2) MOTHERHOOD. Some women don't want to be mothers, and that's fine. Some women do want to be mothers, but find navigating pregnancy in a culture which has all kinds of weird ideas about how pregnant women are "supposed" to behave uncomfortable (and inhabiting a pregnant body uncomfortable, to boot.) Realism. NICE.

3) INFERTILITY. Some women who do want to be mothers find out that (biologically) they can't. And that is sad, and confusing, and awful. Acknowledging and exploring such a (still taboo) subject in such a thoughtful and emotionally astute way--FABULOUS.

4) AMBIVALENCE ABOUT MARRIAGE AND LONG-TIME COMMITMENT ON THE PART OF THE LADIES. Not all women want to be married. (Do you hear that, SATC movies??? Not. All. Women.), and that's fine. A broad spectrum of ideas about love and commitment and cohabitation, outside of the white-picket fence paradigm, exists. And sometimes, not even love is enough to bridge the gap between two people when it comes to when and whether to tie the knot. Stepping outside of our bride-obsessed culture to consider the feelings and ideas of a woman who throws up when she finds out that her beloved boyfriend is about to propose to her? PRICELESS.

5) MORE CUDDLY GOODIES ABOUT HOW FRIENDS CAN BE FAMILY, AND ABOUT HOW BEING SINGLE IS NOT ABJECTLY TERRIBLE. And trust me, I am especially loving this whole vein of Season Four at the moment, because I have been getting a LOT of static about being a single lady since I moved. (Maybe everyone in my old home was just used to my tragic spinsterhood...?) I kid you not, a goodly percentage of the moving people/cable installers/neighbors whom I've met so far have done some version of "Wow, it's JUST YOU? You're going to be living here ALL BY YOURSELF? You DIDN'T MOVE WITH ANYONE?" when I have disclosed my unwed/unpartnered status. It's gotten to the point where I've considered handing out cards: "Yes... it is JUST ME."

ANYWAY. Such encounters (and if I had a dollar for every one that I've had so far, I could buy myself more than one of those aforementioned fried-butter-on-a-sticks) make me particularly appreciative to see something of my "is it absolutely necessary to say, 'Awwwww,' like my puppy just died, when I tell you that I'm single?" state of mind reflected in dear Season Four, which ends with all four of our leading ladies pretty newly single (in some cases, really newly single), yet still looking forward to their futures with hope and excitement and a sense of promise.

Over the course of the season, the ladies found being coupled sometimes wonderful, sometimes hard, always stimulating. And at the end of the season, they are back into their single lives, finding them... sometimes wonderful, sometimes hard, always stimulating. So maybe... coupled or single... life contains elements of the unknown, the unexpected, and the potentially wondrous? Perhaps... the sun shines on the partnered and the unpartnered alike? Season Four/The Magic Eight Ball says... yes. And for that, I hug it to my icy-cold spinster's heart.

And So... In Comparison with Other Seasons...: I love it. Perhaps that was obvious to you already? [Optimism has somehow managed to wake itself up, and find a circlet of roses to adorn its newly-cheery brow. Pessimism is peering into the vodka bottle, in the vain hopes of detecting an errant drop remaining in its dregs.] Not to say that it is not shot through with problems and issues and missed opportunities... but on the whole, it is just so, so great. It asks tough questions, refuses to offer easy answers, and tells stories which are complicated, realistic, and emotionally resonant.

Also, Carrie wears a vintage cape at one point, and we get two whole episodes of Roger Sterling swanning about in a suit. As they apparently say in the fashion industry... me likey.

Next Up...?: A wee preview of what awaits us in Season Five. (Brief preview of my preview: new motherhood madness aplenty, a recurring role for the charmingly wackadoo Amy Sedaris, increasingly inventive and entertaining "we are trying, with mixed success, to conceal that two of our lead actresses are preggers" outfits for Sarah Jessica Parker and Cynthia Nixon to sport, and an adorable writer for Carrie to flirt with.) I don't know about you, but I am psyched!!!

Season Four, Episode Eighteen: I Heart NY

The Summary:

Can you believe that we have officially arrived at the season finale??? Me neither. But lo and behold--arrive we most certainly have. And there are many lively doings afoot in said season finale--so do let us delve into them without further ado (why must I always make such an ado???), shall we?

So the, ahem, big news on the Carrie front is (surprise, surprise) Big-related. She learns in this episode that he is moving. To California. Pretty much... now. Carrie: is sad. I: am happy. (Don't let the door hit you on the way out, Noth!) Carrie: decides that she wants to give Big a proper send-0ff, which may or may not include sleeping with him. I: think she's an idiot.

So Carrie and Big go out for one last night of dinner, dancing, and general New York fabulousness--they're riding around in a carriage in Central Park (which they are both a little embarrassed to do, as it's so cheesy and tourist-y--but who cares--pretty horsies, pretty horsies!!!), and they kiss. [Blogger's Desk, once again, prepares for impact of her Head.] Said kiss is interrupted, however, by a call from one Miss Miranda Hobbes, Mummy-to-Be... turns out, she is in labor! So instead of sleeping with Big, Carrie rushes off to help her friend give birth. (A happy exchange, if you ask me--not that you did.)

The episode ends, however, with Big leaving behind a plane ticket for Carrie, and making it clear that he still expects to be a part of her life, even if from the other end of the country. Carrie: is pleased. I: 1) wonder if you can really do that--just buy someone a generic plane ticket for the generic future? If so, how does that work? "To: Place. From: Other Place. Date and Time: You Know, Whenever"???, and 2) am also pleased--to see him go. [Under breath, ominously: "For now, anyway..."]

But forget Big (please)--what about this whole birth thing? Miranda's big "issuing living child from within her body" day is upon her, and she and Steve are doing all the last minute parent-type stuff which needs to happen pre-baby--building their baby's crib (during which Steve tears up, and Miranda reprimands him) and discussing their baby's name (during which Steve tears up, and Miranda reprimands him.) (Pattern--methinks I sense one.) Miranda has decided to name the wee one "Brady" which, awwww, is Steve's last name. (As well, of course, as being the name of a particularly fabulous Bunch!)

Before going into labor, Miranda outlines for Carrie what she does and does not want to happen in the birthing room--i.e., no hyper-emotional outbursts from Steve, no overly peppy cheerleading from the nurses. She just wants to have Carrie there, holding her hand, and otherwise be left alone to get on with her business. And get on with her business she does, giving birth to the fetching, red-haired (yes. My people are everywhere! You cannot escape us!) little Brady. We leave Miranda looking pleasingly, plausibly like she's just given birth (well done, makeup team!), staring at her new little fella in wonder and consternation. See you next season, Mamma M. and Baby B.! Mazel tov!

Charlotte, meanwhile, not having dated or slept with anyone since Trey (perhaps in part because... they are still married?) decides that she needs to start seeing gents again to really, properly begin the Getting-Over-The-Pending-Divorce process. Volunteering as a docent at the Museum of Modern Art (oooh, pretty pictures, pretty pictures!), she meets the charming-seeming Eric, and eventually accepts his repeated invites to go to dinner with him.

Having hit it off with Eric (mainly by exchanging war stories about their respective, horrendous pending divorces, which... does not seem ominous to me in any way!), Charlotte decides that he is The Guy to be her first post-Trey assignation. However, when she takes him home after their dinner, he freaks out when he realizes how incredibly rich she is, wandering around her apartment ranting about how much nicer than his it is. So... looks like Charlotte's post-Trey dating/sex is put on hold for the moment, as she 1) realizes that maybe she's not quite as ready to date yet as she had thought, and 2) remembers how darned weird and awkward dating can be. Welcome back to the fray, Miss C! See you there in Season 5!

And what about Samantha, you ask? Still in love with Vile Richard, and quite terrified (and firmly convinced) that he is cheating on her. He assures her that he is not, and, indeed, all evidence seems to suggest that he is not... but somehow, Samantha still feels like she can't quite trust him. (What, not trust the guy who suggested a threesome with a college kid for his birthday present? I can't imagine why not!)

So she steals his apartment key from his cleaning lady, buys herself a wig (!), and stalks him. And eventually, she does, indeed, catch him cheating on her. Sam: Heartbroken. Richard: Dumped. Wig: FABULOUS.

The Analysis:

Women Birthin' Babies Watch: The most noteworthy part of this episode, of course, is the advent of young baby Brady. I think the episode does quite a nice job of handling the whole birthin' process... it doesn't flinch from showing some of the less glamorous/usually less emphasized aspects of birth (we see Miranda's water break, for example... on Carrie's new, gorgeous pair of fancy-pants shoes. Whoopsies!)

And I like the fact that the episode doesn't represent labor in the stereotypical "woman screams, cries for drugs, reproaches the man who got her preggers" way. Instead, it gives a pleasantly understated depiction of birth, showing it as darned hard work, while not reducing Miranda to stereotyped screeching, and making a point of emphasizing the importance of the emotional and moral support which Carrie provides to Miranda throughout the process. [Blogger pauses to give a shout-out to all the doulas of the world. Keep it up, doulas! Many thanks for all of your doula-ing!]

And as I mentioned in my summary, the episode doesn't glam Miranda up during or after her birthin' scenes--i.e., mussing up her hair a little, but otherwise leaving her looking gorgeous-TV-star-perfect. Instead, her hair looks sweaty as the dickens, her face is beet-red... she looks, not slightly- flushed-glamorous-actress-y, but like an exhausted woman just out of labor. Yay! Realism! Skilled makeup artists! Good things, all!

"Don't Cry, Steve": Welcome Back, Gender Essentialism! How Have You Been in the TWO MINUTES Since I Saw You Last? Watch: In an otherwise entirely pleasant and enjoyable episode (I do not like the perfidious Richard--the perfidious Richard gets dumped--I do not like the tricky-pants Big--the tricky-pants Big gets shipped off to California--I like pretty Monet watercolors--I get to see plenty of pretty Monet watercolors), I will confide in you that I do find something to be annoyed about in the way that this episode handles the pre-birth dynamics/conversations between Miranda and Steve.

It's not all bad, mind you--Steve is both pleasantly involved in helping Miranda prepare for the advent of their youngster, but also pleasantly deferential to her wishes re: what to name the pending lad (since she is the one carrying the whipper-snapper and all.)

HOWEVER. Every time he starts to get visibly emotional about their baby-to-be, said emotional-ness is 1) played for laughs/treated as a source of comedy by the writers, and 2) curtly shut down by Miranda. I dunno, seeing a fella get misty-eyed at the prospect of his future son... seems more sweet and charming to me than it seems either comical or irritating. Why can't a guy get teary-eyed over the pending birth of his kid? Oh, I forgot because boys don't cry, tears are for sissies, etc., etc. How could I have forgotten?

I know I am supposed to laugh at all of the "reversals" in this episode (i.e., Miranda is the one who insists on actually building the crib for their baby, even though she doesn't really know what she's doing, while Steve is the one patiently reading out the directions to her, and correcting her inevitable mistakes... get it, it's like she's the "husband" and he's the "wife"! Funny!)

Except... it all just seems more wearisome and annoying than amusing to me. Miranda is more brisk and no-nonsense, Steve is more reactive and emotional. The fact that these qualities are often remarked on as an amusing gender reversal rather tires me out. Repeat after me, writers: being overtly emotional is not exclusively feminine. Being more emotionally contained is not exclusively masculine. Good. Now go and give yourself some stars. (Unless giving yourself stars is too "girly"...?)

Though, to be fair, I suppose I ought to pause in my nitpicking to note that although Steve is mocked a bit for being so weepy in this episode, it is relatively gentle mockery... and though Miranda reacts with exasperation every time she sees a glitter of tears in his eyes, the episode doesn't suggest that Miranda or Steve either can, or will, change their teary/non-teary ways. They are who they are, and though the episode seems to suggest that that makes them amusingly atypical specimens of man/womanhood, it does not suggest that that makes them in some way "bad." So... I guess we can accept that? For now, anyway? (As long as they let baby Brady cry without telling him it's a sissy thing to do! There, one draws the line!)

Notable Quotables: Carrie: "Maybe our mistakes are what make our fate. Without them, what would shape our lives? Perhaps if we never veered off course, we wouldn't fall in love, or have babies, or be who are are. After all, seasons change. So do cities. People come into your life, and people go. But it's comforting to know that the ones you love are always in your heart." [Love it!]

Next Up...?: Why, fry me for a donut if we are not almost onto Season Five. Jeepers. Which means, of course, that we have only two more wee little seasons standing between us and... the movies. (Oh... the terror of the movies! THE TERROR.)

But not to worry, dear friends, the scariest thing that we'll have to grapple with next time you join me is an overview of Season Four--how did it improve on/replicate the past madnesses of previous seasons? What were its dizzy highs? What were its embarrassing lows? Join me anon, and we shall discuss! Yay! Discussion!

Season Four, Episode Seventeen: A "Vogue" Idea

The Summary:

Hello, dear friends! Are you ready to sail into the offices of Vogue (whilst not in the company of Anne Hathaway)? Good, I thought you might be. And so--let us go!

So, as part of her "perhaps I should try to actually get my financial life on track" campaign, Carrie has taken a freelance job at Vogue. (Beats taking a midnight shift at Piggly Wiggly, I suppose!) She breezes her way into the magazine's offices as confident as confident can be. She LOVES Vogue. She reads Vogue religiously. Surely, writing for Vogue will be a delicious dream come true?

Oh, dear reader. Of course it's not. Turns out, the editor she has been assigned to work with, Enid (played by professional-pisser-off-of-Dan-Quayle Candace Bergen) is kind of mean. Covers Carrie's pieces in red ink, is generally clipped and brusque and pull-no-punches-ish when she talks to Carrie about her work (and her need to revise, revise, revise said work. Revise it, I say!) Darned female bosses! Bitches all, clearly.

Carrie flees from the harsh Enid to go work with the charming Julian, another Vogue editor who takes a rosier view of her work, and goes pleasingly easy on the hard words and the red ink. All is well with Julian--he supports her professionally! He tells her delightful stories about his courtship of his ballerina wife! He seems all things nice and paternal! What could possibly go wrong there!

A goodish bit, it transpires, as Julian 1) suggests that Carrie has issues with men generally/daddy issues specifically because her dad walked out on her family when she was little, and 2) offers to help her resolve said issues by sleeping with her. Awww, Julian, you shouldn't have! No, really--you shouldn't have. Carrie tells Julian to go take a hike, dismisses his cheap, self-serving psychoanalyzing as... cheap, self-serving psychoanalyzing, and decides to work with Enid from here on out. Sure, Enid is harsh, but she is also helping Carrie to grow and develop as a writer, and maybe... a female boss who challenges you is better than a male boss who removes his pants in the workplace? Methinks so!

Charlotte and Miranda's plotlines are intertwined in this episode, as an eager Charlotte offers to throw a baby shower for a reluctant Miranda, and a reluctant Miranda (as reluctant people will) reluctantly accepts. If you will recall from Season 1 (if you can think back that far... it is difficult, I know! Miranda wore nothing but boxy pantsuits back then--HORRORS), Miranda is not so much a fan of baby showers--all the cutesy baby decorations; all the, as she puts it, "enforced oohing and aahing" over baby gifts, etc., etc. She wants a baby shower with no frills, no fuss, and fried chicken on the menu. The elegant, traditional Charlotte--resists this idea, and keeps cramming the shower with cutesy baby stuff, despite Miranda's objections. TENSION.

Said tension increases after Charlotte comes to Miranda's apartment one night to help her baby-proof it, and said help devolves into her calling said apartment "a death-trap" and making Miranda feel guilty and defensive for not yet having made decisions about breast-feeding, co-sleeping, and many other maternal matters. They fight, and Miranda worries that she (who is apparently capable of yelling at her struggling-with-infertility-and-divorce friend, even as said friend is throwing her a baby shower) lacks the necessary nurturing, patient qualities which will make her a good mother.

When Charlotte bursts into tears in the middle of her baby shower, however (an attendee had given Miranda a Tiffany's rattle identical to the one which Trey had given Charlotte in their struggling-to-conceive days--yeouch), Miranda discovers, however, that she is, indeed, capable of nurturing and comforting those she loves, as she helps soothe Charlotte during her meltdown. Turns out, a lady can still be loving and caring, even if she 1) is a Type A workaholic, and 2) hasn't read a single book about parenting. As always, SATC, you know how to shock and surprise me!

Meanwhile, in Samantha Land... it is soon to be Richard's birthday, and Sam is seeking the perfect present. He helpfully suggests having a threesome with a beautiful, 21-year-old hostess at a restaurant which they frequent, one Alexa by name. Sam was probably thinking something more along the lines of a spice rack... but okay!

Reckoning that Richard is going to have sex with other women either with her or without her, Sam reckons that with her is the best way to go, even though she herself would prefer to be monogamous. So she proceeds with the threesome, which (happily for her) proves to be disastrous, given the potent combination of Alexa's propensity for calling Richard "Daddy," and Richard's own distaste for getting older/recognizing that he is, indeed, of an age to be Alexa's father. (Which you are, sir. Deal with it.) They summarily kick Alexa out (sorry, youngster! Hope you can find someone nice, and maybe... more your age?), and Richard says that he and Sam should give monogamy a shot. A happy ending! [Ominously, under breath: "For now, anyway..."]

The Analysis:

Awesome Hair Cuttery Watch: So in somewhat of a tangent, I will note that Carrie cuts her hair in this episode, as a symbolic "I am starting my new life, and starting it looking amazing, by the way" gesture. (For my own musings about the all-important Cathartic Haircut, see the following from... golly, last year. Jeepers! My hair has gotten sooooooo loooong in the interim! Note to self: must get it cut again. Especially since haircuts seem to lead to jobs at Vogue!) I love Carrie's new cut, as, indeed, I have pretty much loved Carrie's hair across the board in the series. There... isn't too much of an analytical nature of these comments, I know. But... haircuts are neat! Yay! Haircuts!

People of Color Watch: One of Miranda's colleagues who comes to the shower is African-American. Nice for another brief flash of a professional African-American woman in the series (albeit, a very brief flash), and as an added bonus, her baby is adorable. Yay! Adorable babies!

Aging Madness Watch: This episode does raise some gender-specific worries about aging, particularly in the "I Want to Sleep with a 21-Year-Old" Richard-Samantha subplot. Sam is feeling anxious about this encounter, not only because she doesn't actually want to sleep with anyone but Richard, but also because she's concerned to see Richard manifesting a taste for waaaay-younger-than-her flesh. Troubling, indeed. [Note to self--Richard=creepy. Oh, wait, I already made that note about four episodes ago.] Sam laments (but does not question) the radical differences in how male and female aging are treated in our culture, fretting that "men get better looking as they get older, and women get--"--presumably the reverse, but she happily doesn't get to finish this unpleasant thought, as Carrie cuts her off with a sarcastic, "Threeways, apparently." Thank you, Ms. Bradshaw!

Happily, this episode voices these "male sexiness only increases with age! However, any woman over 32 is a withered husk!" stereotypes only to undermine them--Alexa is certainly beautiful, and surely seems like a nice kid--but at the end of the day she is, in fact, a kid, and Richard eventually realizes that he'd rather be with the complicated, interesting, and, of course, still bloody gorgeous forty-something Samantha. Good choice, sir! (Though please note that I still. Don't. Like. You.)

"How the Hell Do We Know?": Women Being Uninterested in Motherhood=Fine Watch: I do also enjoy how this episode just matter-of-factly demonstrates that Carrie and Samantha are completely uninterested in all things baby-related. They love Miranda, and are happy for her (especially Carrie), but they regard Baby Culture generally with a kind of bemused detachment. They happily buy Miranda gifts, and line up to celebrate with her, but at the shower they are visibly bored by the parade of presents, and cheerfully acknowledge that they don't know what a Diaper Genie is--and they don't care. In a culture which still places considerable pressure on women to become mothers and care about all things maternal, Carrie and Samantha's open lack of interest in The Baby World does rather warm my heart. (Please file this happy representation away for when we get to the movies, when Carrie is compelled to give a loooooong speech about how even though she is childless/child-free/what-you-will, she still loooooves kids. As opposed to luring them into her gingerbread house/eating them in her spare time? You shock me.)

"I'm Going to be a Terrible Mother": Ridiculous Pressures Placed on Women to be "Perfect" Mothers, Both by Selves and By Others Watch: ANOTHER thing I like about this episode (my liking... it seems boundless!) is the way in which it highlights the insane pressures which surround mothers and mothers-to-be in our culture, and the unfortunate ways in which women sometimes turn that pressure on themselves, and on other women. Miranda is terrified that she's going to be an awful mother because she hasn't read all the literature about parenting techniques, the benefits of breast-feeding, etc., etc., which Charlotte has. When Charlotte asks her what kind of mother she wants to be, Miranda replies "a good mother," and quickly learns that this answer is not, well, good enough--according to the parenting books which Charlotte has read, she has to have a much more specific parenting plan and parenting style in mind. (Charlotte: "Do you want to be a marsupial mom, or a stroller mom?" First of all--what??? And second of all--neither!!!)

Not to knock either books or research (I am a professor, after all, so books and research... rather my stock-in-trade!), as I am sure that doing research about what kind of crib you want your kid to sleep in, or reading books about how to navigate breast-feeding are very wise things to do... but this episode does do a nice job of pointing out that this literature/culture can sometimes be, not helpful, but actually oppressive, as it relentlessly makes you feel like a "bad parent" unless you are making all your youngster's baby food by hand, letting them chew on only hand-whittled toys, and have a point-by-point plan for their future intellectual success in place before they can even focus their eyes.

Charlotte is genuinely trying to be helpful when she follows Miranda around her apartment spouting baby advice, and talking about all the books which she's read and which theories she's absorbed, but said spouting sadly has the opposite effect, making Miranda feel like she's a sad, defective parent before her baby has even been born. The episode thus, I think, does a nice job of showing how easy it is to get sucked into the Model Mom vortex... and how ridiculous that vortex really is... for although Miranda doesn't know anything about marsupial motherhood (about which, again--what???), she's ready to love, care for, and foster her pending youngster. Perhaps that, in the end, is more important than having read a library of books about co-sleeping? Maybe?

Gender Essentialism Madness Watch: Have you missed it??? It's been quite some time since I've had to wag my finger [blogger, adopting a stern, school-marm-ish expression--or rather, a more stern, school-marm-ish expression than usual--pauses to do so] about the series' inclusion of "slam-your-head-on-your-desk-annoying" gender essentialism--but I get to do so again now. Yay! I suspect that it shall be just like riding a bike--one never forgets how, really--once learned, it lingers in one's very bones and blood, never to be lost again.

ANYWAY. When Miranda is lamenting to Carrie that she's worried about what not having a full-time father figure is going to do to her baby (even though... Steve?), Carrie says that her baby will have a good father figure in its life--namely, Miranda herself. As the boys of the gone- but-never-forgotten MST3K would say, "Well, I can see that... huh?!?" The notion that Miranda will be a good "father" figure to her baby because she likes sports, and is professional and ambitious, is one which I find both insulting, and dopey. (A twofer!) I also find the implication that "mothers=loving nurturers, father=sports-obsessed providers" binary stereotypical, and distasteful. (A four-fer!) Plus, where do LGBT parents fit into this binary? Oh, we're not supposed to care about LGBT parents? Apologies, my mistake!

Notable Quotables: Carrie, when asked by Julian why she's so drunk after drinking only one and a half martinis: "I didn't eat breakfast, and I'm a size two. Which should make me perfect for Vogue." Unsavory, I'll grant you, in its suggestion that Carrie has bought into our culture's General Body Image Madness with the whole not-eating-thing, but still--it makes me laugh. A little Vogue related humor--starts your day right! (And also--breakfast. Look into it, Bradshaw!)

Carrie to Enid, after Enid says that Carrie knows nothing about either men or shoes: "Men, I may not know. But shoes--shoes, I know."

Next Up...?: Season finale, season finale! Can it be true? How did we get here so fast? [Blogger carefully ignores the fact that she started writing about this season during a bloody ice storm about a million months ago. La la la, I can't hear you, facts! La la la! CANNOT hear you!] And with the season finale comes... DRAMA! Will notorious womanizer Richard cheat on Samantha? Will noteworthy pregnant woman Miranda decide to exchange Pregnancy for Baby? Will legendarily "idiotic when it comes to Big" Carrie do something totally dopey and ill-advised when she learns that Big is moving to California? Will punching-bag-of-the-writers Charlotte's work as a docent at MOMA result in comic disaster? I am going to say... yes, yes, yes... and yes!

Season Four, Episode Sixteen: Ring-a-Ding-Ding

The Summary:

Ah, rings of various sorts and descriptions! Let us contemplate them!

So, as we know from our last episode, Carrie's relationship with/engagement to Aidan is over. [Blogger moves her lace handkerchief delicately to the corner of her eye, to mop away the ladylike amount of moisture which has gathered there.] And it is sad, and awful. He leaves her for good in this episode, and in the wake of said leaving, Carrie cries on her bathroom floor for hours. (Sarah Jessica Parker notably goes without makeup to play these "hideous break-up and break-up fallout" scenes, which has a pleasing ring of reality about it--few things annoy yours truly more than the "I ostensibly have the flu/have been weeping for days, yet my mascara is still flawless" moments on the tee-vee or the movie screen. Please, Hollywood. Please.)

Aidan is giving Carrie 30 days to get together the cash to buy her apartment back from him... otherwise, the apartment shall be hers no longer. Yikes! It's at this point that the episode at least flirts with financial reality (well done, episode!) because Carrie, of course, is broke. She's an over-spender and an under-saver, and has just about nada in the way of financial assets. Unless you count her shoes. (Carrie, as Miranda helps her do the math re: where all of the money which she's made has got to: "I've spent $40,000 on shoes?" This is why I am a devotee of Payless, Bradshaw!)

Where to go to get the money? What to do to get the cash? The bank turns her down for a loan, and though Miranda and Samantha (but, notably, not Charlotte--which we shall return to anon) offer her the money, she refuses to take it. Big also offers her the cash (???)--she accepts his check, but tears it up when she sees her friends' looks of horror at the very idea of her taking funds from her erstwhile Demon Lover. (And maybe my look of horror, too, which I suspect may have been powerful enough to burn through the TV set.) Miranda: "When a man gives you money, you give him control." Ding ding ding, one point to you, Ms. Hobbes! Rip rip rip, Ms. Bradshaw! What are you waiting for?

As aforementioned, when Carrie is lamenting her financial woes, as Miranda and Samantha are offering to loan her the requisite cash, Charlotte is remaining conspicuously silent. Carrie, furious, later confronts her with said lack-of-help-offering, and Charlotte explains that friendship and money don't mix terribly well, and that it's up to Carrie to stand on her own two feet and face her own financial demons, anyway.

Unfortunately, while she's making her "female independence! wooo!" speech, she still has her wedding ring slapped on her finger, and is standing in the massively expensive apartment which her soon-to-be ex-husband had bought for her. It transpires that one of Charlotte's new hobbies is putting her wedding ring on, and wandering around what used to be her and Trey's apartment, admiring both the apartment and the ring as she does so. I see. (Might I suggest knitting as an alternative?) Carrie points out that a "stand on your own two feet, no matter how hard or unpleasant it may be" message seems a little odd coming from a divorcing woman who's still wearing her wedding ring, and the two friends part rather sourly.

Said sourness is happily diffused by the end of the episode, however. (Excellent!) After contemplating other uses for her wedding ring (maybe she could have it melted down into a pendant? Or earrings?), Charlotte concludes that she can't quite bear the thought of her wedding ring--which she had loved so much, and had worn with such hope and happiness--being casually used to make her some random purty jewelry. What she CAN bear, however, is the thought of giving her wedding ring to Carrie, to use to buy her apartment, turning, as Carrie says, "her painful past into my hopeful future." Awwwww. Now that is friendship, right there! (Close personal friends of mine, please take note: you can give me any and all Tiffany diamonds you may have on hand any darned time you like. I will use them to make a down payment on... BOOKS.) So we leave the Carrie/Charlotte storyline with the two ladies realizing that "we're alone again"--scared, but also feeling optimistic as they look forward to the next chapter in their lives. Delightful!

What else is there to say about Charlotte in this episode, you inquire? In addition to pressing her gorgeous wedding ring into Carrie's expectant palm (lucky palm), Charlotte is looking for a job. Not that she technically needs a job--Trey has given her their old apartment and, we understand, quite enough money to live on comfortably, sans paid employment--but rather because she loves the art world, and wishes to get back into it.

Sad fact is, she can't get hired because she has too much experience for the jobs which are available. Bummer. Sorry that you're being denied the chance to pursue the work you love, Ms. C. Feel free to slip me any of that extra cash which you've got lying around any old time you want--stuffing money into envelopes for me might help to fill up all those idle hours, after all!

Okay, so from Carrie and Charlotte, we move to Miranda. Miranda... is super, super pregnant. (Aren't television pregnancies neat? She discovered she was pregnant in Episode Eleven, and by Episode Sixteen, she is just about ready to pop. And real pregnant women of the world laugh bitterly, and throw things at the television.) Turns out... pregnancy is physically challenging! You shock me. It has all kinds of things associated with it which Miranda finds rather unpleasant--she is gassy all the time. Her hands and feet have swollen up beyond anything she could have ever previously anticipated. She is also thinking about sex round the clock, which... she finds inconvenient. She confides in Steve about allll of said problems, and he 1) tells her that she is not, contrary to her own belief, ugly, but rather has the much-hyped pregnancy glow, and 2) agrees to sleep with her. Well... at least this time... no risk of pregnancy!

Meanwhile, Samantha (whom, I will note, is wearing a mudflap girl necklace in one scene--oh, Ms. Jones. Do you not remember all of my previous ranting about Playboy iconography? Do I need to send you off to the corner to re-read Female Chauvinist Pigs? Well--do I???) is annoyed at Richard. Richard, it transpires, is continuously showering her with expensive gifts (nice work if you can get it--being the shower-ee, I mean, not so much the shower-er--pricey!), but always signs the cards which accompany said gifts with "Best" and not "Love." "Best," seriously, Mr. Wright? Embarrassing. "Best" is a bit stiff when you're writing to your great-aunt, let alone your inamorata.

ANYWAY, running into Richard's personal shopper in his apartment one day, Sam learns that said shopper has been both picking out her gifts, and writing out her cards. (Seriously, Senor W.? Delegating even the purchasing of love tokens?) She also learns that he's been buying love tokens for far fewer women since Samantha came on the scene. (I guess that... passes as good news?) Panicked at how much he has disclosed to Sam about his buyin' and card-writin', the personal shopper readily agrees to the Terms of Her Silence--Sam will tell Richard nothing about their chat, provided that the shopper starts signing the cards on her gifts "Love, Richard." Samantha Jones: fights dirty, wins a different four-letter word on her gift cards.

Confronted with a card expressing his love to Samantha, Richard tells her that he does, indeed, love her. Nice how that works out! In response, Sam tells him that she loves... the very expensive bracelet which he gave her. She still can't quite bring herself to use the L word. Sigh. Ah well. She got a nice bracelet out of the deal, anyway!

The Analysis:

People of Color Watch: Minimal. When Carrie (very briefly) decides that she'll save money by taking the bus instead of cabs, she ends up talking to an African-American woman, who is also waiting for the bus. (To recap: delicate white ladies in stilettos--take cabs. Sassy black ladies in sensible shoes--take buses. Glad we cleared that up.) The salesperson in a shoe shop which Carrie and Miranda go a' shoe huntin' in is also African-American. He is allowed a few brief moments of sarcasm before being banished to the episode's margins. Buh-bye, sir! Enjoy your (apparently) bus ride home!

LGBT Folks Watch: Richard's personal shopper is gay. Seems like a nice bloke, from the one scene we get with him. Fair enough!

Wedding Rings Turning Up in Unexpected Places Watch: (I realized that that sounds potentially dirty as I was typing it, but no matter! I will just clean my mind out with soap, and continue.) I do quite like the ways in which this episode plays with ideas about the Sacred Wedding Band.

I totally forgot to mention in my episode summary (mind=sieve) that Aidan wants Carrie to keep the engagement ring which he bought her (one more reminder that Aidan, though not the gent for Carrie, is quite painfully nice), and that she refuses, because it would have been too painful for her to keep it--she'd never be able to look at it without thinking about Aidan and their Lost Love.

Charlotte, by contrast, is holding on tight to her wedding ring, because even though her marriage is very, very much over, and ended in a perfect disaster of a horror of a mess, looking at (and wearing) the ring still somehow makes her feel safe and secure. Over the course of the episode, however, she discovers that while she can't stand the idea of something which she had once so cherished being destroyed/melted down into earrings or some such, she also can't move on with her life still using the ring as a security blanket.

And I quite love the scene in which Charlotte proposes (see what I did thar?) that Carrie take the ring, and use it to buy her beloved apartment. The writers quite carefully have the scene replicate an actual wedding ceremony/proposal (Charlotte: "Will you take this ring?" Carrie, tearing up: "I will."), which I found quite charming. It plays quite nicely into the series' "there are many kinds of love, and among the most enduring and significant of these is love between friends" theme. Carrie and Charlotte may have both been devastated by their relationships with the good, but-not-right-for-them men whom they've just loved and lost--but they'll always have one another's love and support, no matter what. Awwww. Friendship. And lots of close-up shots of a Tiffany ring. Swooooon.

Massive Class Privilege Conspicuously on Display Watch: Do you feel that it's been too long since I sourly noted how blithely SATC glosses over class inequities? You do? Well, then, isn't this just your lucky day, because I am about to sourly note how blithely SATC glosses over class inequities! Hooray!

A pity, really, because this episode, more than most, actually flirts with reality re: money--because the opulent lifestyle which Carrie has been living on her limited means, it transpires, has really messed her up, finance-wise... and she actually has to reckon with that.

Unfortunately, her reckoning lasts about a minute and a half, during which short span of time she is offered the cash by both her wealthy friends and her wealthy ex-boyfriend. So the path to financial responsibility seems to lie in... having rich friends? [Note to self: must get rich friends. Additional note to self: spending past seven years as a grad student--not the best move, rich-friend-obtaining wise. Final note to self: Drat!]

The simple fact that Carrie has monied friends, and Charlotte a monied soon-to-be ex-husband, who enables her job search to be purely about intellectual fulfillment rather than economic necessity, need not be a problem in and of itself, of course... I just find Carrie's "I'll be a bag lady--a Fendi bag lady, but a bag lady" and "I will literally be the old woman who lived in her shoes" talk a little wearing. (In much the same way that all of my "I am so pooooor" talk when I was a grad student must have been wearing.)

Because Carrie is never going to be in serious financial jeopardy--she has what is (unrealistically) a quite lucrative job as a free-lance writer, a closet full of designer goods she could sell if push came to shove, and friends with the financial wherewithal to bail her out in times of trouble, as need be. (Much like my own "poverty" consisted of being a middle-class girl who couldn't go out to eat a lot, and bought all of her books used. Boo-bloody-hoo, poor bloody me.) That is not what real poverty looks like, and it is disingenuous to use language which pretends that it is. So can it, Carrie. (And retroactively--can it, self.)

"No One Will Hire Me!": Unpleasant News on the Job Front Watch: There has been a lot of job-related anxiety in the SATC verse of late, has there not? Not too long ago, we had Miranda lamenting the negative impact which she suspected that her pregnancy and subsequent baby might have on her career. And not too terribly long before that, Charlotte's friends warned her that if she left the paid workforce as a woman in her 30s, she might never get back into it.

Grim stuff, no? And it grows grimmer yet--this is one instance in which the series is looking an unpleasant reality dead in the eye, rather than smilingly pretending not to see that it is there, in the first place. ("La la la, I can't see you, Unpleasant Reality, because I am closing my eyes! La la la, please go away now, because keeping my eyes closed this long is getting booooring!"), Charlotte left the gallery world for (she hoped) motherhood, only to find that when the door slammed behind her, it reeeally slammed behind her--and now she can't find her way back in.

Bummer. All that talk about on-ramps and off-ramps for professional women who plan on taking some time out of the workforce for motherhood... looks like that's not working out so well, just yet! Guess we'd better get on that! (Of course, even jobless, Charlotte is still more fortunate than 95 percent of American womankind, in that going back into the paid workforce is about her mental need for stimulus rather than her physical need to eat... nice work if you can get it, Ms. C... if you will forgive me that particular figure of speech.)

So in sum--a small handful of gold stars for the writers, for acknowledging the difficulties which professional women have if they dare to step off the high-powered career track for a spell--and also for showing that Charlotte both misses and loves her work. I know that the show isn't really about the women's professional lives, but still, we get to see Sam savoring her work as a P.R. guru, Miranda richly enjoying her lawyer-ly life, Carrie finding great joy in being a writer... kind of nice to see Charlotte step out of her usual bruised/comic princess mode for a bit, and be a woman who passionately loves, and misses, her immersion in the art world. We haven't gotten to see that side of Charlotte in quite some time, and I, for one, am glad to do so. Even if... it is all about the frustrating parts of her professional life. Boo, frustration!

"Look at My Fingers... They're Like Sausages": Pregnancy as Actually Difficult Watch: Points to the writers, too, for emphasizing the parts of pregnancy which don't usually seem to make it into commercials, maternity-wear ads, etc., etc. (All those happy, shiny-haired, clear-skinned ladies, looking fit as fiddles and glowing like the sun, etc., etc.) Kind of like the much-lampooned menstrual products ads, in which energetic women leap about in white leotards. Turns out, female biological experiences... can be a bit messier than that! During The Menstruation, one often feels sleepy and nauseous (and that is if one is lucky.) During pregnancy (from what I hear), a whole host of other physical unpleasantnesses can arrive. And kudos to the writers for bringing those up, and de-romanticizing pregnancy a bit. Having Miranda complain about how some of the less charming physical complications of being preggers is another nice thumb in the eye of the "everything about pregnancy is grrrreat!" myth. And you know me, I do love a good thumb in the eye!

Next Up...?: "A 'Vogue' Idea," which features, well, Vogue, as well as a guest appearance by Murphy "My Real Name is Actually Candace Bergen" Brown, a baby shower, and a three-way. Lively!