Carrie Bradshaw Math |

Carrie Bradshaw Math

I remember there was an article in the New York Post, back in 2003 or 2004 (when this topic was actually relevant!) all about women, who had moved to New York, expecting the glitz and glamour of Sex and the City, and how disappointed they were that, instead of Manolos and Upper East Side duplexes, all they could afford were Nine West and railroad apartments in Queens. It made me really happy that I had never seen SATC prior to moving to the city, and that any TV show ideas I had about New York were based on Felicity, where Keri Russell had a job at Dean and Deluca and an appropriately wacky/goth roommate.

Anyway, there probably are writers in New York that lead a Carrie Bradshaw lifestyle, (Peaches Geldof comes to mind, circa when she lived in Williamsburg and was writing a column for Nylon) but they moved to the city with an ample trust fund and/or parental support.

thefrenemy:

Don’t get me wrong- I watch Sex and The City. I never got why she wore a lot of shit on her head, or why she thought Chris Noth was remotely fuckable, but I still dug that slutty old lady who made all the cock puns. I’ve seen most of the episodes, I’ve drank booze and saw them with my ‘girlfriends’ and at one point I concluded I may have been a Miranda even though I’m not a ginger bitch. However, there’s been something about the show that has been gnawing at me lately.

I’ve been out of college with a writing degree for almost a year now. I too, moved to NYC (well, Brooklyn, but I wear more skinny jeans than Charlotte) to pursue writing. And I’ve done pretty well with it, soo fucking whoop-de-do for me, but something’s been bothering me and I just need to get it off my chest:

Carrie Bradshaw, you gotta be tripping balls to have us believe that you can sustain yourself that extravagantly on that one stupid-ass column. You lying bitch!

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