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Thursday
Jul042013

Sex and the City: Chicken Dance

Up for debate this week: the speed at which relationships progress. Miranda loses her long-time crush/houseguest to her decorator when they get engaged within a week and married within a month (!!!). Charlotte tries to force love at first sight with a groomsman at the aforementioned wedding, but realizes that it's probably best to get to know someone a bit better before deciding that he's "the one". Samantha has a deja fuck (Carrie's words) with a guest at the engagement party and comes to the conclusion that she either has to move or get married because she's slept with everyone in NYC. And Carrie gets all dreamy-eyed over Big giving her the extra brush head to his electric toothbrush, but then takes it all back when he refuses to sign the card for the wedding gift. It's the little things, amirite, ladies?

 

We open with Carrie nearly showing her nerps in a teenie-tiny cami and flat hair...though I am happy to see her in something other than black. Miranda is nice and casual in a red button-up that fits her beautifully. No worry of a nip-slip here.

Unfortunately, Miranda also has frogs. No, it's not the latest STD, it's a piece picked by her new decorator, Madeline. As an interior designer, I am horrified by those dancing frogs. You should fire that girl and hire me, Miranda. I don't care if she's friends with Charlotte. 

 

Anyway, Carrie decides to cover it up when she retires to Big's apartment for the night. What a great neckline for her, though. Her hair seems a bit fuller, too. Let's assume that's post-roll-in-the-hay with the handome Mr. Big.

The pink brush-head to Big's toothbrush is bestowed upon Ms. Bradshaw, and Carrie takes it as a HUGE step in their relationship. I have to say, sharing an electric toothbrush really, really weirds me out, but I suppose when your relationship is moving at the snail's pace of Carrie and Big's, baby steps make it exciting.

 

On the opposite end of the relationship spectrum, Miranda's friend Jeremy is oblivious to her advances and instead finds wuv at first sight in her decorator, Madeline. Note that Miranda hired said decorator in hopes that he'd sleep in her bed instead of a) her nice new pull-out couch or b) someone else's bed.

Maybe it's those pleated trousers? Miranda's blouse is divine in its material, color and cut, but those pants... I actually don't mind the color, and the button detailing on the hip is fab, but I can't help but think a flat front would be so much more flattering.

 

Discouraged but ever the trooper, Miranda throws a going away party for Jeremy at which he announces his engagement to Madeline. After just one week. One. Week. Her heart might be stomped on, but at least Mir is fabulous in her navy dress and long beaded necklace.

Flanking the Lonely Miranda are Vixen Sam in her silk button-up vest and silk crimson pencil skirt, and Innocent Charlotte in a baby-pink spaghetti strap dress. Way to stick to character, ladies.

 

Post-engagement announcement, the girls head outside for some air. Carrie is impervious to the cold, but the others cover up with their typical style.

Charlotte's got a simple and sweet red cardi and Miranda's rocking a basic jean jacket. I'm not sure what Sam's wearing, but I'm pretty sure they're missing a puppet on "The Muppet Show". There's no way that has ever been stylish. Sorry, Samantha.

 

I'm kind of coveting Carrie's skirt, you guys. I really want an adult tutu, but I'd love one with some embrodery and sparkle. I'll take that sparkly pink clutch too.

I'm not entirely sure about the denim bandeau top, but Carrie's got the arms and shoulders to pull it off.

 

 

Unfortunately the peasant blouse and patchwork jeans cannot be pulled off by Ms. B.

Care-bear, you look like a 12 year old. If you're going to follow someone around while they're planning a lavish wedding at The Plaza, you'll need to step it up a little, a la Madeline in her profesh blazer and folio bag (which I'm dying over). Despite her unusual clothing choice, Madeline still asks Carrie to write a poem to read at her wedding to Jeremy.

 

At the lunch du episode, Carrie is stunning in a blue silk top (dress? Whatever it is, I like it). Sadly, Miranda isn't quite as dazzled when Carrie tells the girls that she couldn't say no to Madeline's request. Traitor!

I really wish we could have seen more of this outfit, but we'll have to leave that to our imagination. Boo.

 

The rest of the girls are obviously on a power lunch. 

Miranda sticks to her boyish suits, while Samantha works a low cut, roal blue suit and a story about her latest conquest which made her realize that she's bedded every man in the city. And Charlotte demands to be seen in her vermillion number — and at her friend's wedding. Always the bridesmaid, as they say...

 

It's wedding day (remember, we've gone from zero to Married in less than 20 minutes), and Miranda has been relegated to guest book duty. Poor Miranda having to watch her crush get married to her decorator. At least she's killing it in her LBD.

Samantha is a pin-up in her sage colored evening gown. Too bad her most recent conquest is there to spoil the thrill of the hunt. 

 

At least one of the girls is on the prowl! Charlotte, that is one smoking sexy bridesmaid dress! Low-cut, halter-neck and backless?

What a pleasant surprise from Miss York! I'm giving this a perfect 10.

 

A very close second in the race for Best Wedding Attire is Carrie. The nude color and sparkle overlay are stunning. It's nearly macaron-baring, but I'm sure that's the only way she'd be able to walk in it. And look, she has yet another covetable clutch, this time in leopard.

The thing that brings it down for me is the way carrie stands in it. it seems like she's pushing her stomach out in every scene. The woman is tiny, too! I spend half my life sucking in my gut, and she's pushing it out! Ah, jealousy is a nice color on me.

 

We end on a familiar note — the girls are still on the hunt for the perfect relationship, while Samantha is just looking for a man that she hasn't already slept with. Seems a tall order for all concerned.

Thursday
Jun272013

Sex and the City: The Cheating Curve

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?

Yes.



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.

Get more dresses at JJ's House

Friday
Jun212013

Sex and the City: Four Women and a Funeral

This week, our girls considered the Universal Scary Question: “What if I end up alone?” (Or, in Samantha’s case, “What if I sleep with so many people that I’m no longer allowed in my favorite restaurants, clubs, and bars across New York City?”) The answer? We should all be okay as long as cat owners around NYC overfeed their pets to avoid posthumous mauling following an accidental death. Noted.

 

An even better question would be, “Why is Samantha attending the Kentucky Derby?”

My bad. She’s attending the funeral of a well-known designer. The hat, clutch, dress, and coat all look well-made, but I can’t get over the outfit’s Derby vibe.

 

Apparently, neither can Charlotte, who shows up in a much more appropriate black trench. Charlotte is appalled by Samantha’s outfit. Samantha is appalled that Carrie received a plus one invite to the funeral. I’m just digging the styled wave in Charlotte's hair.

 

However, once they arrive at the funeral, Charlotte realizes she's the sore thumb in the crowd.

Personally, I would want to stand out in this crowd. A designer’s funeral? It looks more like the circus is in town. Seriously, does anyone else see the actual clown in the top left corner? Green wig? White face?

 

Our Ms. Bradshaw blends in with the circus by wearing the largest, most multi-colored shades she can find. 

The hair, necklace, and khaki jacket look great, but the sunglasses stand out on top of her head, and not in a good way.

 

After borrowing Samantha’s hat in an attempt to blend in, Charlotte happens across a handsome widower visiting his wife’s grave.

They chat, she learns the widower went to Princeton (Woo-hoo! Good on paper!), and Charlotte agrees to a date. The girls recommend dating a divorcée instead (everyone is still alive), but Charlotte moves ahead enthusiastically. 

 

Meanwhile, Carrie calls Mr. Big, and they chat via some old-school phones.

I have to say, young Chris Noth is pretty attractive. Especially in this well tailored black sweater. Man has got swagger.

 

Carrie is anxious as per usz, but she is likewise dressed in black, and likewise holding a super cute old-fashioned rotary phone that blends in with her outfit. Eh, if you've ever watched an SATC episode, you've probably seen it before.

 

After the funeral, Sam takes it upon herself to do some fundraising for the charity that was started in the name of the designer.

In terms of 90s professional wear, Sam’s outfit is 100% stylish/appropriate/etc, and the royal top is a lovely pop of color against her cream pencil skirt. 

Question: Should you leave this woman around your husband?

 

Answer: No.

As this stiffly-dressed socialite soon found out. Perhaps she's jealous of how well Samantha wears cream?

 

So instead of fundraising, Samantha finds herself trouble-starting. Unfortch, she's pissed off the wrong lady because… 

If you ask any New Yorker, being turned away from a good brunch is probably one of the worst things that can happen. Although, seeing Carrie’s hideous 80s style house dress out and about is probably up there as well. The print and shape of the dress? No good. Totally swallows her small frame. I would have turned the group away from brunch based on that outfit alone. 

 

Meanwhile, Miranda is buying herself an apartment. Yep, just her.

I must give Miranda credit. Ignoring the countless turtleneck sweaters and awful hair cut, accessory-wise, girlfriend is way ahead of her time. I’m pretty sure I’ve coveted a very similar-looking bracelet from the J.Crew Jewelry Collection Spring 2013 line. 

 

Nighttime comes and an angst-ridden Carrie is getting ready for her date with Big. 

Despite her stress, is it bad I’m kind of loving her dress? The shiny, dark, snakeskin (?) material is perfect for a NYC night, and unlike the housecoat situation above, this dress fits her really well. 

 

It's Carrie and Big, 2.0! These two are so meant to be. 

Too bad Carrie doesn’t know her fate the way we do, because she freaks out, and the date ends before it really starts, ifyaknowwhatImean.

 

Back on the Upper West Side, Miranda and yet another turtleneck go to visit her newly purchased apartment, whereupon she meets a new neighbor who informs her that the last occupant died and was eaten by her cat.

 

There ya go Hobbes, let’s make sure to keep Fatty nice and well-fed. 

 

After a steamy night with her widower in which she "helps him come back to life," Charlotte, a preppy dress, and some lillies go to visit his wife's grave. 

 

But wait...

I don't know what's creepier. All the lillies, or the fact that this man clearly has a type.

 

While Charlotte deftly saves herself from a relationship with Creepy Cemetary Pickup Guy, Samantha is unable to save herself from certain social downfall. Luckily, Jack Leonardo DiCaprio* (reminding us once again that it's the 90s) steps in and rescues her.

Never again will she be turned away from brunch.

*Not actually Leo.

 

Bradshaw, on the other hand, decides to dive headfirst and goes out with Big, yet again. They go bowling, and this adorableness ensues:

Maybe she's happy in the moment? Or maybe she's smiling because she secretly knows a massive closet and beautiful apartment are only ten years and one feature film away.

Thursday
Jun132013

Sex and the City: They Shoot Single People, Don't They?

Cha cha cha, walking in my tutu, oh noes! Splashed by a bus! Yes, it's time again to delve into the often questionable fashionz and bizarre lifestyle choices of the SATC girl gang. This week, Carrie's thesis is two part: a) is being alone so bad and b) is it OK to fake it sometimes? The answer to these turn out to be kind of bleak, leading to a sadder-than-usual episode of SATC. And I'm not just talking about the late-90s outfits.

 

We begin in a very rare situation for these ladies, in that they are all single and ready to mingle. That's right time for all the single ladies to put on their most practical heels for a night on the town!

Are these the lowest heels we've ever seen Carrie in? I think so. She paired them with high-waisted satin skinny pants (long before the term "skinny pants" was invented) and a flowy peasant blouse. She was in motion for most of this scene, so I was only really able to capture the H-to-T in this blurry morning after shot:

"Wheee! My life as a single mid-30s lady is so fun and totally not horrifying! I swear this fur coat doesn't smell at all like a chimney! Good morning, Mr. Garbage Man!"

 

I like how much respect the gals paid to this ladies' night out. You can tell that they aren't there to pick up by their outfits.

I mean, OK, Sam's dress is cut down to there but it's nowhere near as flashy as she dresses when she's on the prowl. And I have to assume that Charlotte's paperclip-esque choker was the height of fashion back then?

 

And, despite her choice in legwear, Carrie's boho hairstyle steals the show at the nightclub.

Check out Mir, lurking there in the background. Pay no attention to her sleeveless black turtleneck (a fairly awful choice for dancing at a nightclub, no?) but note the ring. Miranda Hobbes is wearing a statement ring! This is a huge leap forward for her, fashion-wise. Maybe she's not so hopeless after all.

 

As much fun as they had, this night of hard partying made Carrie late for a magazine photoshoot the next morning. So, as you do, she threw a souvenir poncho on top of her outfit from the night before and crawled in, an hour late, looking like a used packet of Ramen noodles.


Poor Stanford. He thought he was going to get Hot Fashion Girl Carrie for this shoot, but he wound up with... well...

This.

 

While Carrie's mostly humiliated by the unflattering photo, the other girls begin to freak out about the headline: "Single & Fabulous?" They had considered themselves "Single & Fabulous!" with an exclamation mark, but now they're worried about the question mark. Each of them handles it in their own way:

Carrie spends most of the episode hiding inside of this bucket hat, trying to distract people from her face with prominent nerps...

 

... while Charlotte puts on her frilliest, girliest outfit and seduces her contractor.

Oh, honey. You need to leave that top back at the Renaissaince Faire for Little Girls. And the less said about her embellished flip-flops, the better.

OK, I'll just note that they are PURPLE PLATFORM FLIP-FLOPS with PINK FLOWERS ON THEM. This may have been the height of fashion in the late 90s among the middle school set, but not for professional 30-something ladies. Get it together, Char.

 

Miranda's busy this week, first, demonstrating an absolute lack of how to use free weights while power-walking:

Seriously, this episode is worth watching just to watch Miranda's random flailings. Though, to be fair, Carrie showed a greater misunderstanding of personal fitness by pausing for a smoke break mid-walk.

 

Miranda clearly bought her sleeveless turtlenecks in bulk this week, as she later goes on to model this (velvet?) maroon number:

While the colour works nicely with her red hair, she needs to say NO! to sleeveless turtlenecks. Although...perhaps she's hoping to show off her toned arms from all that time spent randomly flinging weights around Central Park?

 

Sam starts out in possibly the most questionable sweater I've ever seen on this show, which is saying a lot.

Tone on tone bedazzling? REALLY? And she wonders why she's still single.

 

She steps things up in a big way though, for a salsa-dancing date with her piece of the week.

In any other circumstance, I'd say the hair flower and the tassled dress would be a bit much, but both are perfect for salsa dancing. On a hanger, that dress would look like drapery, but Sam turns it out on the dance floor.

 

I appreciate how Patricia Field finds ways to show off all of the fun pieces she finds. There's no real reason for Sam to be wandering around with her shirt open other than to show off this intricate bra, but for this show, that's reason enough. 

Oh, and also to show off Kim Cattrall's sick abs. And also this very fun vintage-y phone. Well played, SATC.

 

That being said, why do these women keep picking men who are so much below them? Sam falls head-over-Manolos for yet another loser this week, only to find herself stood up. I mean, we should all look so glam being stood up, but like... nobody should have to go through this.

The issue here isn't you, Sam. It's just your terrible taste in men. And your inability to use the restaurant's coat check.

 

And then Carrie "Single & Fabulous?" Bradshaw works out her ennui with a night on the town with her GBF, perfect curls, and a really cute pink (notice a theme this week?) silk top:

 

Who's she got her sights set on this week? Oh, just a certain BRADLEY COOPER:

She kicks him to the curb after he finds her magazine cover, which is really weak sauce when you think about it. If she waited until 2012 and showed him his SEXIEST MAN ALIVE cover, would he dump her? Sort your priorities, Bradshaw.

 

She winds the episode up having an "empowering" lunch for one. While her narration claims that flying solo isn't so bad, her face tells a different story.

That being said, with her gorgeous mane of hair, devil-may-care attitude and collection of bad puns,  I'm sure it won't be too long until she finds a handsome new beau. Or a handsome old beau...? *cough, Mr. Big, *cough*

Thursday
Jun062013

Sex and the City: The Freak Show

Dating is freaky business. In this episode, the girls deal with all varieties of cray: an S&M closet, compulsive oral sex (so timely this week — thanks Michael Douglas), a kleptomaniac, extreme body issues enabled by plastic surgery, and a guy who hasn't left Manhattan in ten years. Oy. Isn't anyone normal? All of this crazy certainly drove Carrie batty. 

 

Although Samantha doesn't believe in first dates, she does believe in first date action. She was just getting steamy with Harrison, a sexy and successful sexual harassment lawyer, when tragedy struck: he called her old. What?!

 

Look at this woman! She might be knocking on forty-something's door, but she is straight-up killing it in this hot keyhole dress. And sure, the hair and gold earrings are totally dated, but I assure you they were on-trend for the late 90s. 

 

Things continued to go sideways when Harrison got a bit too Fifty Shades of Freaky. I'm not sure how he got himself into this cedar-lined den of iniquity, but hopefully he can get himself out. 

On a side note, who has enough closet space in NYC to devote an entire area to an S&M dungeon?

 

The next evening, the girls rehashed Samantha's evening while oozing Manhattan stereotypes: wearing all-black ensembles while sipping champagne at a book release party.

 

The bubbles must have gone to Charlotte's head because she began cruising for men, and thus, met Mr. Pussy (real name: Mitchell Sailor). But do you see that face? Charlotte was none too pleased to learn Mitchell Sailor's cunnilingus-themed moniker. She and her NYC-basic black dress are horrified! Horrified, I say!

Careful Char, if you keep furrowing your brow, you mind end up needing botox.

 

After a quick powwow in the ladies room, the girls returned to the party in time to see the conservatively-dressed Mr. Pussy showing off his moves on the raw oyster bar. Pass the mignonette sauce, this is going to be a long night!

 

But Samantha and Charlotte can't keep all the freaks for themselves. Carrie needs some wack-a-dos, too. 

Her first blind date was with a documentary film maker who was only in it for the money (you picked the wrong career, buddy) and apparently, Carrie thought that meant she should wear something artsy, like this poncho. News flash: she is only wearing a bra underneath that thing. Talk about easy access.

 

Her second blind date was with a seemingly normal gentlemen who engaged in cute banter re: movie snacks...until shizz got real and he began screaming at the dude behind them in line. 

On the plus side, Carrie looked just lovely in her pink shawl, colorful bustier, and messy updo. Brava!

 

Third time's a charm? Mr. Bonds Broker seemed promising until she saw him stuffing old books down his pants. Kleptomaniac aside, Carrie was radiant in her tried-and-true vintage fur and pop-o-color bag.

 

But seriously ladies, can you stop with the eyebrow crinkling? I swear it isn't doing you any favors. 

 

You know who is getting favors? 

Charlotte. 

Mr. Pussy was very busy over in Charlotte's sheets. Shhhh. I won't disturb.

 

...except to say that I applaud Charlotte's choice of negligees. So classic and sophisticated, just like her apartment, if not her date.

Wait, do you still call it a "date" if you never see his face?

 

Meanwhile, Samantha wasn't taking her aging face sitting down. Just as she was feeling low, she bumped into an old friend, positively glowing from the fat injections in her face (fat harvested from her tush, no less). Call the plastic surgeon!

Although...Sam? Not sure if you want to take beautify advice from a women wearing a pink floral blazer. Florals aren't Samantha's jam, although I am digging her bold red wrap.

 

Samantha presses on, and does indeed fill her face with butt-fat. Fresh from the plastic surgeon, she shows off her new face and girdle. Amazing! She's essentially in medical-grade Spanx. Where can I buy those? 

I would be remiss if I didn't mention Carrie's Rainbow Brite knee socks. If Carrie were five, I would approve, but Little Carrie Bradshaw is in her thirties, and I just can't support this legwear choice. 

 

After her dating disaster trifecta, Carrie retreated to the park to clear her head, and has a meet-cute with Adorably Preppy Ben. A few shy smiles, some light chit-chat, and eventually they get out pads of paper to exchange numbers. Awww! Remember what life was like before smartphones? 

Guys, I'm not sure that I'm on board with Carrie's ensemble. Ok, twist my arm — I hate her outfit. The baggy sweater and the sofa-pattern skirt are no bueno. At least she has a cute purse?

 

Anyway, let's take a closer look at Ben. Yes, confirming Adorably Preppy status with his dress shirt, blazer, and khakis. Even his glasses are charming. Amazingly, he seems nonplussed that his love interest is dressed in upholstery fabric. Whatta guy!

 

Several romantic non-dates later, these two writers take it to the next level. Carrie's convinced that Ben has an inner freak just waiting to burst out, but nope. Just a Tweety Bird tat with a backstory.

Forget the tattoo — I'm more bothered by his leather necklace. Gross.

 

They then take a further step: fixing up their mutual friends. Things get serious between Miranda and Ben's buddy when the conversation turns from favorite ice cream flavors to weekend plans. But oh no! Miranda's on a non-date with "Manhattan Guy," a mutant strain of New Yorker who never leaves the city! Suddenly, Miranda has to feed her cat...

Let's put a pin in the date for a second and discuss something that's bothering me: who talks about favorite ice cream flavors on a first date? And couldn't Manhattan Guy recognize a fellow Manhattanite when he saw one? For Zabar's sake, she's wearing head-to-toe black! Was it the innocent purple turtleneck that gave away her tendency to occasionally cross the Hudson?

 

Before she could scurry off to feed Fatty, Miranda quickly warned Carrie that if Ben's friends are freaks, he might be one too. Instead of discussing men, I kind of wish Miranda gave a bit of pro bono advice on Carrie's horrible crocheted shawl. Verdict: NOT CUTE. 

 

Over at Ben's apartment, the two love birds temporarily parted ways so that Ben could go to his soccer game, leaving Carrie alone in his apartment. In a fit of panic, she tore the place apart looking for a tiny bit of freakdom. 

So, in addition to crocheted shawls, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that "panic" is another look that's not so good on Carrie.

 

Because it leads to this: being discovered trying to jimmy open a wooden box found in the back of Ben's closet. Not your finest hour, CB.

Sweet Ben and his totally 90s jeans kick Carrie to the curb, but not before showing her the box containing his Cub Scout patches. Ben and Carrie are over as quickly as they started. Somewhere, a Tweety tattoo is quietly weeping.

 

So off Carrie goes into the Manhattan sunset sunrise. The break-up seems to have given her clarity...or at least, enough sense to nix the heinous crocheted scarf. 

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