Dear Nilanthi,
I recently caught the Sex and the City 2 movie premiere in Chelsea, a fashionable part of West London. On entering the theatre, I was overwhelmed by a throng of females dressed in Carrie Bradshaw uniforms: glittery tops, mini-skirts, vintage dresses with brooches, leggings and stilettos. It was an estrogen explosion, dotted by a few wary men who had obviously been dragged into the SATC fervor by girlfriends and wives.
In the theatre, I sat with women from Russia, Lebanon, Japan, and Canada. The far corners of the world represented, all brimming with excitement about the premiere. The commercials finished, and the opening scene was met with cheers and screeches of excitement from the audience. Something about these characters translated across cultures and managed a hold on these diverse imaginations. It didn’t seem to matter that the the charm of the original SATC was extinguished in the film, and that the characters were one-dimensional vessels for designer dresses and shoes. Neither did it matter that there was more lifestyle porn than plot, or that the part of the story that takes place in Abu Dhabi was rife with offensive Arab stereotypes.
For all the stinking, horrible reviews of the film, for the cheap story, and garish drag-queen behaviour of the characters, it seemed the people in the theatre that night were moved. So Nilanthi, tell me what about SATC translates to all these women?
Best,
Julia
