Sex and the City and the Psyche.

11:08 AM

I have been watching a lot of Sex & the City lately. You see I’m preparing myself for the imminent release of the 2nd film.



 So I wanted to revisit their hijinks, refamiliarize myself with the favourite foursome and I’ll be honest…I think it’s making me a little crazy. As in, I am becoming a crazy woman; shaping myself in their mould of neurosis’.
I unwittingly performed a monologue of insecurity to my boyfriend the other night. What I like to call “letting the crazy out of the bag”. We all do it every now and then but it seemed the catalyst for me was the influence of those darn Sex & the City girls. My boyfriend said it was like watching a scene from a romantic comedy. Light hearted, flippant insecurities falling from my lips costing me nothing but nonetheless appearing in my head.
There is a surmounting (and distinctly New Yorker) pressure that the series places on marriage, independence & dependency, true love, fading love, platonic love, every sort of love! Enough to make any woman go bananas (and not in a Rachel Zoe way). The protagonist is so introspective, Carrie spends every episode scrutinizing her every move. Self analysing…self obsessing. Which is very easy to do in this day and age. We live in a culture iEverything.
The more I watched the series the more I morphed into a feckless, forlorn female. Word to the wise; enjoy SATC. Just don’t watch all the episodes consecutively, night after night, back to back. Or you will become as cynical as Miranda, as uptight as Charlotte, as obscene as Samantha and as lost as Carrie. 

...You have been warned.

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