Is it just me, or is
the fashion from Sex and the City not quite
fashionable? What is the deal with women blatantly sleeping around and
its being celebrated? I think I’m missing something.
Perplexed in Peoria
First, I have to admit I haven’t
seen the movie, but I did see the fashion and it was . . . bad. If
these women want to know why they couldn’t catch a man, didn’t anyone
mention to them their clothing? Just because you can
wear something, doesn’t mean you should. For example, if you remember
the first time miniskirts came around, then you know it’s time to pass
on the style the second time around.
We’ve all seen women who look
like they’ve invaded their teenage daughters’ closets, and it’s not
The self-indulgent lifestyle
with $700 Manolo Blahniks is so yesterday. Any fashionable girl knows
green is in, and so are green fabrics like cotton, denim—the whole
“less is more” concept. However, Hollywood is bringing back the muumuu.
It’s called the maxi dress, and it billows to allow for all sorts of
figure flaws. But do I really want to be in a dress that Angelina Jolie
looks better in while pregnant? I think not.
Here’s the thing. The characters
in Sex and the City resonated with their audience.
Something in their loneliness and their stark yet vibrant cultural
lifestyle in New York City hit a nerve with gals at home. To think that
they could get dressed up and be in vogue was to feel a little bit of
the Cinderella at the ball. But did Cinderella rip her clothes off at
the end of the night? Did Prince Charming get the milk for free, or did
he buy the cow? (I hate that saying, women in relation to cows—that’s
What makes me excited about the
success of the movie is that I’m hoping the romantic comedy, the chick
flick, will make a comeback at the movie theatre. We’re tired of this
“new concept” story in Hollywood where everyone is pregnant, then
the guy falls in love, or the woman falls for the loser, or she doesn’t
really need a man anyway.
And there is nothing
romantic about a raunchy sex scene. We want our men Mr. Darcy–sexy. I
have yet to meet the woman who finds happily ever after with a
one-night stand. Unrequited love is better than a trashy sex scene;
fulfillment and happily ever after is better still.
Not happily ever after as in
that the middle-aged fat guy finally wears down and is willing to marry
our heroine, but Mr. Darcy happily ever after: “You must allow me to
tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” “You have bewitched me
body and soul.” Ever after.
Bring back those movies
and we’ll forgo the fashion altogether for a frock. We’ll be reminded
that God’s happily ever after resonates, and an ugly night of regrets
is a poor substitution.
The Trophy Wives Club,
Christy Finalist: Lit Category
Back to Life,
Avon Inspire, September 2008
Beneath the Surface,
Tyndale House Publishers, Fall 2009