This week, Carrie and the girls delve (too) deeply into the concept of cheating. Between moral relativisim and the existential trees-falling-in-the-forest question, there’s a lot of philsophical ground covered. For example: is Carrie cheating on her friends by lying to them about the man she’s seeing? Can Miranda tolerate her new boyfriend cheating on her with his favorite porn stars? Or, in a weird twist, is he actually cheating on them with her? Is Charlotte cheating on her newfound lesbian clique by being straight? SATC, I can honestly say that without you, I’d never have considered any of these deep, haunting conundrums. Thanks for that.


We kick the episode off at the only event worth any salt, in my humble opinion: a lesbian art show. Carrie tells us that power lesbians are the new rulers of Manhattan.

Power lesbians wearing power suits. Nobody ever said costuming was supposed to be subtle. But whether it’s due to their trim lapels or the spot-on casting, I totally believe these women could rule the universe.

Of course, the gang’s all at the opening to support Charlotte.

If only they could have talked her out of wearing this horrifically drab dress. Charlotte gets the tailoring and just about nothing else right here. Yes, she’s technically working…but it’s a party. Gray is the least party-like shade in the color wheel, and there’s a lot of it in her dress.


Miranda is there with her Boy of the Week. This one is a documentary filmmaker from her Harvard Alumni group who believes in non-narrative films and primary colors. Miranda obviously only believes in black for social encounters. BotW’s days are numbered, right from the start.

On the opposite end of the color palette is Carrie’s plus one, Samantha. White and gold might be cliche for a blond, but Samantha makes this white suit with plunging neckline and gold accents sing. Too bad there aren’t any men at the event to bow down to her greatness.

Carrie finally whips out the color, in the form of this blue open-work shawl that looks like it might be more comfortable on a grandmother in a retirement home than on a sex reporter at a lesbian art show in Manhattan, but that’s just quibbles. It’s good to see her in something other than sheer unrelenting black. Oh, and her hair is soft and lovely and that’s like an alarm bell right there.

Why? Well, when Carrie’s hair looks sensational, it usually means there’s a man in the picture, and in this case, there totally is. He’s just a Big secret.

Yes, please. He can be my secret any day. Seriously, Mr. Big looks absofuckinglutely amazing in just a simple white shirt, cuffs rolled up. No wonder Carrie was so eager to ditch the party and meet up with him.

She doesn’t miss much, just Charlotte selling out the gallery, and discovering her date for the night making out with some third cousin twice removed in the back room.  

Charlotte is better off, considering the tone-on-tone he’s (not) rocking with that jacket and tie combo.

Naturally, he claims he wasn’t cheating, which opens up the forum for discussion on the subject.

Miranda, ever the weekend warrior, kills it in a glowing blue zip up, paired with a black puffy vest.  She also adds her two cents in and insists cheating’s merely in the eye of the beholder.


Charlotte is peeved, a fact not all that surprising considering her conservative plaid jacket, pink cardigan and bow-trimmed white tank top. This isn’t a woman who’s going to condone random making out, even if it’s with a brother’s cousin’s roommate’s sister..

Sam, a serial cheater herself, sticks to the adage that cheating is unavoidable, and looks spectacular doing so in this lovely winter white cape jacket trimmed in brown. I know Carrie’s supposed to be the clothes horse here, but seriously, Samantha’s outfits are to die for.




Speaking of Carrie..

She got lost on the way to the boho street fair, guys. She’s only just joining us now. That skirt must have made a wonderful tablecloth in a former life, but at least her jean jacket and aviators are unobjectionable.

Clearly, she is not on her way to meet Mr. Big, as evidenced by her hair.

Eeeek. That’s definitely one style that Carrie Bradshaw didn’t help spread like wildfire. Also, that must be some mighty sour lemonade right there. Or maybe keeping secrets is pickling her insides. Hard to tell.

Anyway, Carrie is intrigued by the defintion of cheating and goes on to use cheating as a metaphor for everything in her life and the life of everybody she knows. You know, typical stuff in the life of Carrie Bradshaw.

I wondered: if a nightie is really pretty and no man is around to see it, is it still pretty?


Meanwhile, Miranda’s fighting her new man’s obsession with porn — he has to watch it all the time, even when they’re about to get busy.

Miranda glamors it up with a cute melon lace bra, but unfortunately even that isn’t enough to break her man of his unfortunate addictions. So, as usual, she kicks the Boy of the Week to the curb. Poor Miranda.

Samantha, bored with all her usual suspects, decides to hook up with her trainer. And just like that, we have another Boy of the Week!

Yeah, nobody can blame her for that one. He’s got a Channing Tatum-like talent for wearing a wifebeater.

Charlotte’s got the most interesting storyline of all — she starts hanging out with Power Lesbians and finds she likes it with no men around.

Apparently the Power Lesbians are big on shoes, and Charlotte wins them over with her designer footwear, along with her bright red sweater set. They just had to overlook her unfortunate, weirdly-cropped gray slacks. But I agree with the Power Lesbian who praised her Prada loafers.

Charlotte gets half of being a Power Lesbian right: the outfit. Charlotte’s navy tailored suit is flattering, but I especially love the pop of color she brings in with her berry colored tank.

Unfortunately, there’s a little fly in Charlotte’s Power Lesbian ointment: she doesn’t actually like girls. Just like that, she’s kicked out of the clique. Girls can be so mean.


They also make bad choices, as when Carrie goes to see Mr. Big again, but this time makes the dubious decision to cook for him. You know, cooking. With stoves and pots and pans and actual digestible ingredients.

Since this is Carrie Bradshaw, her dress was a lot tastier than the fondue, and considering it’s basic and black, that’s not saying much for the fondue.

But I must praise her walk o’ shame powder blue evening coat. It’s definitely a step in the right direction to embracing actual color in eveningwear.

Maybe powder blue is an odd color choice, but the coat adds the right seasoning to an otherwise bland outfit.

Later, the girls meet up to catch a movie and discuss yet again the concept of cheating. You know, because we haven’t beaten the topic of the episode to death just yet.

Miranda breaks out her lawyer garb. The different blues are a nice contrast to her hair, and the buttoned shirt gives a chic edge to a work outfit she probably wears a varation of just about every day.


Samantha looks killer as usual, with a patterned trim on her sexy little suit just the right touch. Really, this is totally the perfect outfit to wear while saving Carrie from her stuck diaphragm.


Yeah, that’s totally what I’d wear if I had a little birth control problem.

Of course, the girls all want to know who, what, when and the most important, why. Carrie finally confesses Big secret and they’re suitably disappointed.

Frankly, I’m more disappointed in this half-ass attempt at an updo. I don’t care if you’re going to a dark movie theater or that you had a tiny issue with your diaphragm. Put a little effort in, Bradshaw.

Thankfully, Carrie takes our sage advice when Mr. Big takes her dancing.

She’s quite a fan of her blues with black, isn’t she? I love the hint of sparkle, and well, Mr. Big looks appropriately Mr. Big-ish in his tuxedo. We missed him, too.

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