With just the unveiling of bejeweled Manolo Blahniks, or Samantha's profanity-laced bid at a charity auction, fans of the HBO series Sex and the City know the girls are back.
And it's soooooo hot.
Fashion designer names fall like confetti at a Big Apple New Year's bash. Sex appeal, and sex, sizzle on the big screen. Familiar faces pop up unexpectedly. As does Carrie's rhinestone-studded cell phone (now held together by duct tape), which revealed Big's name in the series' finale.
The movie picks up four years later. A monogamous Samantha (Kim Cattrall) has relocated her PR firm to Los Angeles to manage her boyfriend's career. Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) still lives in Brooklyn and takes her role as full-time juggler of work, children and friends way too seriously. Charlotte (Kristin Davis) has found her happy ending with husband Harry and adopted daughter Lily.
A blissful Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), who wears a single strand of long pearls through much of the movie, has almost discovered real estate nirvana with Big (Chris Noth). The drawback: a puny closet.
Thus, the commitmentphobes dance around the terms of their engagement:
Big: "Should we get you a diamond?"
Carrie: "No, just get me a really big closet."
Sex and the City fans sigh.
Like director/writer Michael Patrick King's characters, plenty of real women covet what they don't have: designer duds, forever friends, a posh apartment, better sex, any sex, true love, a bigger closet.
When the series debuted, this surprising candor and witty writing provided fans with voices that have matured along with the characters. Whether it's Samantha's (I need to concentrate on me); or Miranda's (don't do anything to be sorry for); or Charlotte's concept of friendship, first voiced on TV: "Maybe we can be each other's soul mates, and then we can let men be just these great, nice guys to have fun with."
Or, maybe, the four women might be lucky enough to have both — true love and fantastic friends — providing hope (and a couple of hours' laughter and tears) for fans everywhere.
Jennifer DeCamp yearns for just
a quarter of Carrie's massive shoe
collection, but would settle for a
single pair of Manolo Blahniks.
She can be reached at (727) 893-8881 or firstname.lastname@example.org.