I had the misfortune of seeing my first full episode of Sex and the City last night, as I pounded my feet on the treadmill. After the shows I’ve been watching, such as Dead Like Me and Desperate Housewives, finally seeing Sex and the City was quite the disappointment.
The quality of Sex and the City just isn’t as high as the others I’ve been watching. I found the comedy to be bland, out of reach for me, and I could barely identify with the characters. I’m certainly not as girly-girl as they are – even at thirty years old, presumably when they are in their prime mentally as well as sexually, I just could not see myself in their position, or understand their way of thinking. They all seemed shallow, limited and unfulfilled in such a mundane way.
I suppose I’ve never been big on the dating scene. It’s full of stupid rules and irrational non-sense that just get in the way of two people coming together. So the show is completely wasted on me.
But I did learn about one apparently feminine ritual I have inadvertently taken part in. It includes something called “skinny jeans”.
Yes, I have a pair of jeans that have been around since I was 15 years old. I one day hope to be able to fit into them again, without filling up the waistline completely, as I was able to back then (probably unrealistic as I didn’t have hips back then).
According to Sex and the City, every female does this with a pair of jeans.
I’m so ashamed.