Never Walked In High Heels

Up until last summer, I prided myself on never having seen an episode of Sex in the City in my life. But, within the course of a month, I have seen all six seasons and the movie. I blame a combination of my roommate and the inevitable procrastination that comes from having a dissertation due at the end of the year. It’s probably more the fault of the latter. 

I would not want to be like any of the main characters in the show. The obsession with shoes and handbags is something I will never understand. Not walking much means that my shoes last forever, and I just don’t have time to change handbags everyday. I’m just not apt to go through men like water. I won’t let my daughters watch it until… well, ever actually.

But there is something about them that is very lovable. The bond between women who have lived life side by side is unbreakable. I know two young women who can only be described as the Midwestern Sweet Valley Twins. They always have handbags which match their shoes. If I’m in my more opinionated mood, I can’t stand them. But they are always ready to talk to me. They are bright and kind, chattering on and on about everything imaginable while braiding my hair. Hearing their secrets lifts the weight of mine. And whenever I am with them, I feel about as normal as anyone else.

We all want friends like that, people who remind us that we aren’t the only ones going through this madness. Friends make us feel like we can be spontaneous, and girlfriends make us feel like we are all worth while. The brilliance of Sex and the City was that, by watching the friendship of those four women, we became their friends, too. In hearing about problems and ideas, which we thought were only ours, we cannot help but be drawn in. And after a bit, one can’t wait to see what comes in the next episode, just to make sure we’re all ok.