Oh, the year 2000. Pixelated Pokemon battled on Gameboy Colors. Harry Potter was competing in the Triwizard Tournament. Nobody knew what a Justin Bieber was. It was a magical moment in history that I shortly relived while watching the third episode of the third season of Sex and the City.
    *Inhales cigarette smoke*
    *Exhales cigarette smoke*
And then I thought…Y2OK, let’s start this recap.

 

We open with the ladies coming together for their Sunday ritual: brunch and bitching. Charlotte pours over the New York Times wedding announcements, lamenting the nuptials of young twenty-something couples. After spitting on Susan B. Anthony’s grave and ripping up a picture of Rosie the Riveter, Ms. York moans she’s now doomed to an unfulfilled life as a withering spinster because a 27-year-old woman got married before her.

While perusing this strange, archaic, oversized paper carrying news, Charlotte stumbles upon — quelle horreur! — the wedding announcement of Big and Natasha, Carrie’s former flame and his new model wife!

Returning to her apartment wearing pants made out of a picnic blanket, Carrie finally reads the details of their wedding, and breaks down.

“She’s shiny hair, style section Vera Wang. And I’m…the sex column you run next to ads for penile implants,” Carrie wails, tears streaming down her hollow cheeks. What she doesn’t realize is that it could be SO much worse. The woman who writes the sex column next to ads for silicone ass injections really has it rough.

 

During a trip to the dressing room that sadly didn’t turn into a fashion montage, Carrie and Miranda run into Natasha, radiant with her aforementioned shiny hair. And! Bitch is even wearing a flowing white dress, just to remind Carrie, et al: NATASHA IS A NEW BRIDE. We get it, Patricia Field. Thanks.

 

Carrie, looking less like a bride and more like a personified walk of shame, attempts to impress Natasha by agreeing to attend the Women in the Arts luncheon she’s co-chairing. Unless Carrie does some finger-painting on the side, I have no idea how the penile implants chick even scored an invite to this event. But she’s determined to look good in front of Big’s new wife, so she’s going. Oh, and because of charity too? Maybe?

 

Later that night while still sporting the walk of shame look, Carrie has her thought of the episode. While click-clacking away on her Mac, she stares blankly up to the heavens and asks, “are there women in New York who exist just to make us feel bad about ourselves?”

The answer is yes, and I can think of two: Anna Wintour and the Statue of Liberty.

 

And here’s one more: Magda, Miranda’s loveable old cleaning woman. Hi, Magda! Get comfortable, because you’re going to be around for three more seasons, and at least one movie. Miranda becomes increasingly upset at Magda for pushing her old-fashioned traditions, including rolling pins, tea, misogyny, and rose-colored smock shirts.

 

 

The issues come to a head when Magda discovers Big Red’s “goodie drawer,” containing all of her sex paraphernalia. Now let me just say, this drawer is lame, and leads me to believe Miranda is keeping the rest of her “goodies” in a secret sex dungeon. Didn’t Magda discover that in season 5?

After cleaning the drawer out and encouraging Miranda to pleasure herself with a Virgin Mary statue, the two have it out. Ultimately Magda accepts Miranda’s modern dildo-using lifestyle, and a beautiful friendship is born.

 

Charlotte Hates Her Thighs; another subplot for the episode. While visiting a spa, the gals decide to take a steam. There were so many scenes in the steam room this episode that I saw more boobs than a man writing for a fashion blog ever needs to see. Carrie, Miranda, and Samantha all get naked, giving me feelings I will be discussing with my therapist next week.

 

Charlotte, however, refused to take her towel off because she hates herself. More importantly, the woman behind her in the steam room was wearing a toe ring. A TOE RING. How I miss the 2000s.

 

Sidenote: While at the spa, Samantha did this.

So that’s how you get banned from Helena Rubinstein. Noted.

 

Charlotte and Carrie meet for lunch, where Charlotte starts to open up about her self-esteem issues, but then Carrie’s all “Enough about your actual problems, LOOK AT MY SHOES!” These new kicks she bought for the Women in the Arts luncheon were designed by Skittles, I guess? They’re sure to make Natasha jealous of Carrie and what she had with Big.

 

After running through a tornado to do her hair, Carrie arrives at the Women in the Arts event with Samantha. Carrie’s red dress is stunning, and Ms. Jones looks equally beautiful in a classic black and white ensemble. The two have absolutely no interest in women or the arts, and instead use their energy to scope out Natasha. After discovering that she’s sick and won’t be attending, C&S lose what was left of their minimal interest in this charity, and get hammered. Mother Theresa who?

 

Samantha enlists a walking Hostess Snowball and former classmate of Natasha’s to tell Carrie about the time Mrs. Big gained 10 pounds in college. Yes, because laughing at a woman’s weight will certainly solve the problem.

After the luncheon, Carrie finally realizes that Natasha should have absolutely no influence on how she feels about herself. Ladies and gentlemen, we have growth!!!

 

And yet, maybe not. While wearing the ugliest flip flops I’ve ever seen to lounge around her apartment, Carrie receives a thank you note for attending the luncheon. It seems that Mrs. Big wrote “their” instead of “there,” and Carrie immediately calls Miranda to mock Natasha’s stupidity.

Never change, Sex and the City. Never change.