Felled by allergies, I spend a sick day watching Netflix. Yup, like when we were little. Snuggled up in a blanket on the couch. Netflix is offering Sex And The City for those who never had HBO. It’s caused a stir amongst Gen Z so I thought I’d re-check it out. You know, for research.
Didn’t know Gen Z’s feelings about Carrie Bradshaw? It’s the latest thing they want to ban. I get it. Most of us go a lifetime without a closet full of Manolos. Joking. It’s not the Manolos Gen Z wants canceled. It’s the whole thing. Carrie and her friends have not aged well. Oh Gen Z, why is it you believe you get to go through life un-offended?
Offensive is the new iteration where Big dies and Carrie steals my gig. I’m the smart-mouth widow writer trying to puzzle through the world minus the love of my life. And having a full-time job since he didn’t leave me millions and my writing pay doesn’t match yours. Bitch.
So on a sick day, bundled in blankets and feeling sorry for myself, I binge Carrie and the gals in 24-minute increments. I’m struck by a few things. Like how often Carrie’s clothes don’t match. Some of them are truly awful. It’s not fashion of the time, it’s that they’re terrible. The shoes, until later years, weren’t all that great. Whaaa? Manhattan doesn’t deserve the love letter with its cramped everything and perpetual state of perspiration. But the one thing Gen Z is missing is the friendship. Gen Z, dahlings, surrounding yourselves with only those that never offend you can get mighty boring.
You need a Miranda. Every group needs a grouch. You need a Samantha to give you courage and a sense of adventure. And encourage great sex. You need a Charlotte to remind you to believe in the fairy tale. Besides a friend in arts can teach you a thing or two. And you need a Carrie. Every friend group has that one girl the world revolves around. At least in her head. And she is mostly a good enough friend to put up with it. Until she’s not and then you learn the skill of having actual discourse with a friend instead of cancellation due to offense.
Our friend group has a Carrie. Nothing is as dramatic as her marriage, her kids, her vacays, and her life. We all acknowledge she lives in her own little bubble and we get to come and play sometimes. She is none the wiser. We have a Miranda who cannot see what’s right in front of her–great husband, family, money, career. But we know that’s her way. Our Charlotte can’t stand the F-word, has more money than God, and wears great dresses. Are we jealous? She’s too sweet for that.
We also have friends who provide the frosting. The ones that when they join the party, we wonder why they don’t come around more often. There are the ones we have deep, connective conversations with including opposing opinions. Some carry our deepest secrets. We have new ones and old ones and grumpy ones and happy ones and fashionistas and even some that wear bad shoes. But, like shoes, it’s the collection that counts, each important for different reasons and seasons.
Perhaps that’s what a generation of cancel culture is missing. Sometimes when you throw the baby out with the bathwater, you realize a baby is just what you need at the moment. And there’s never an inappropriate time for a bath.
The Duchess Diaries 