Almost everyone in New York has experienced a group of young women, who sometimes call each other bitches, trying to live the life that the Sex and The City gang of four lived fictionally. I once accidentally went to one of the restaurants that was a location in that series and my friend and I had to leave. It was so full of women trying to be those women: Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda, with most of them trying, probably, to be Samantha in particular.

But I didn’t dislike the first two episodes of the sequel “And Just Like That…” as much as others have. To be sure, there were some idiotic scenes and costumes: Miranda’s outfits in particular were atrocious. And the scene where she enters a classroom, somewhat late because she’s been drinking (very heavy handed foreshadowing, btw), and sits in the professor’s chair which is one in a circle of chairs, and then proceeds to make all sorts of modern micro-aggressive mistakes after the professor arrives, was absolutely embarrassing. If she’s really getting her masters to be a social justice warrior, she would already know that you have to ask someone what their pronouns are, and she wouldn’t have stumbled around making all sorts of mistakes about “black” hair. It was a dreadful scene and there was nothing natural about it. And the others in her classroom, young people, were rude and shocked, just downright shocked, that Miranda assumed someone was a “she.” How dare she make such an assumption.

Likewise between Big and Carrie, there was just an unnaturalness about their relationship that kind of told you that Big was doomed already. Would have been much more interesting if they’d been having problems — or had gone into a bed death phase. They basically made the worst choices.

They talked too much about Samantha just packing up and leaving in anger, but I suspect that’s some shade they’re throwing at Kim Catrell. But what I did like about it is the simple fact that they are older. Simple as that. I like seeing people confronting some of the problems I’ve had to confront as I’ve aged — even if it’s as stupid as grey hair. So we’ll see. Big has died and Miranda is going to be hitting the Chablis ever more frequently until she’s confronted by someone. I just hope the writing gets better.

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