Thursday, 27 May 2010
I got to thinking...
I can pinpoint the moment that falling out of love turned to total hated.
It was a few months ago while walking The Highline. Flowers stretching their newborn heads into the glare of the sun, springtime smiles from New Yorkers, views across the Hudson to New Jersey on my left, Manhattan's straight lines to my right. A buddhist monk strolls past in bright orange robes, while in a photo studio overlooking the park, a man is modeling swimwear at a fashion shoot.
Straight ahead of me on the wall of a building is a 50 foot high poster. A huge silver sparkly number '2' and in smaller writing underneath Sex and the City 2- sponsored by Moet and Chandon. I stop. I shudder. I can't decide which offends me most- the drag queen diamante or the movie being bankrolled by the world's most ghetto chavulous champagne. SATC lost it's cool when the first film came out, now it's conceding to becoming a full on franchise? Aimed at who? Teenage girls and rappers?
SATC- the HBO series was great at getting the zeitgeist before it even happened. SATC- the movies have become a designer Disneyland for not very grown-ups, a reliable studio moneyspinner that trades in fake fantasies and forced fabulosity.
The world has changed a lot since 2004 when the series ended. Hell, I even smoked back then. Inside too! In restaurants and everything! Imagine? I liked to curl up on my sofa in Cardiff and work my way through a packet of Malboro Lights while watching Carrie smoke hers.
There was always excess back then, but while the movies want to choke on it, the series kept it more palatable and made sure the characters kept one Choo in reality. I loved the TV version, I really did. Go ahead and be snarky. I was a loud and proud a fan. It was witty, relevant, pitch perfect and of it's time. Everything the movies are not.
If watching SATC the movie 1 was like pouring sugar in your mouth until you vomited, then I fancy SATC 2 will be akin to catching a once hip older sister buying incontinence pads at Duane Reade. I won't be finding out. I am not paying $15 to give this gravy train any more credence.
If the HBO series Carrie actually existed she would not watch movie Carrie. She probably wouldn't be living in New York anymore. She would spend her nights posting comments on Gawker about how Manhattan is over and too sanitised and it was better when you could walk down the streets and be mugged for your Manolos, except Carrie wouldn't even be wearing Manolos anymore, she'd be wearing Toms.
And she would type: "I got to thinking...could it be the show that was so much about fashion, simply fell out of it?"
Regular readers of this blog will know that this is the first time I have even written the words 'Sex and the City' on Welsh Alien. If it ever needed referring to it was named as The show that we never dare speak it's name since it sold out and made that appallingly saccharin big screen version. Just so that it's clear I'm not jumping on the SATC bashing bandwagon and that I can always be relied on to stay ahead of the hater trends.