Sex and the City in 2022
By Maeve O’KeeffeAnd Just Like That, the highly anticipated reboot of HBO’s Sex and the City has recently concluded. The series had a lukewarm reception, with many fans of the original show disappointed that Kim Cattrall’s hilariously salacious character Samantha did not return for the spin off. The hype around And Just Like That prompted many to return to Sex and the City, which first aired in 1998, out of nostalgia. However, Sex and the City’s recently revitalised popularity is not just about Gen X reminiscence, with many younger fans discovering the show for the first time. As a twenty-year-old, I was compelled to see what the fuss was about, and soon found myself immersed in the lives of Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha as they made their way through heartbreaks, humiliations, and humorous encounters in the metropolis of Manhattan in the 1990s and 2000s.It would be tragically unoriginal for me to lambaste the dated attitudes towards sexuality on Sex and the City, yet several moments left me astonished as a viewer in 2022. There are a number of episodes that simply would not make it past the writer’s room in this day in age. The characters frequently display homophobic and transphobic attitudes, and the show also features clumsy storylines about race and class that can make the viewer feel quite uncomfortable. There is an abundance of internalised misogyny and slut-shaming for a programme about sex, and the horrendous fat-shaming that some of the characters endure at various points in the series is shocking. In a sense, it was reassuring to see the progress we have made when it comes to what is acceptable on television and in society more generally. For every time I cringed at Carrie’s comments about “not being sure bisexuality even exists,” or every time the characters leaned into dated and limiting stereotypes, the outlandishness of it all by today’s standards was reflective of how such problematic attitudes are no longer tolerated in our media. I am thankful that in 2022, plotlines in popular television shows would not revolve around problematic tropes about people of colour, members of the LGBT+ community, and women, in the way that Sex and the City so frequently did. And though the progress we have made as a society is in many ways encouraging, I was also intrigued by various ways in which our society’s understanding of sexuality has changed, and not always necessarily for the better.For instance, in one episode of season 3, Charlotte is left horrified when she begins a relationship with a man who calls her a “fucking bitch,” and a “whore” in bed. As Dolly Alderton and Caroline O’Donoghue contemplated on their popular podcast series Sentimental in the City, would a younger generation of women be so surprised, let alone bothered by these names, given the proliferation of “more hardcore kinks” adopted from more broadly consumed pornography today? And without wishing to disrespect individual preferences, one has to wonder how this language has become more standard and accepted while other forms of derogatory name-calling on the show have been rightfully reproved in the years since.In another episode, Carrie is amazed to learn of what a Brazilian wax is. She is appalled by how she is left “like one of those hairless dogs,” after a bikini wax, and Samantha, her sexually savvy companion has to inform her of what a Brazilian wax is. It’s strange to think about how evolved our vocabulary for grooming pubic hair has become in the 22 years since that episode aired. Perhaps the increasingly common understanding of the differences between a Brazilian and Hollywood wax could be dismissed, but one might be inclined to question how removal of body hair has become an increasingly normalised component of our beauty standards in recent years. Why is it that men are not expected to shave their legs or armpits, when from early adolescence it is a beauty standard imposed on young girls?Of course, the practice of removing body hair predates Sex and the City by decades, and the show was never revolutionary enough to show Carrie or the girls with tufts of armpit hair or fuzzy legs. That said, it’s interesting to juxtapose how much more normalised the full removal of pubic hair has become since Sex and the City was first broadcast. After all, there is no reason why women should shave aside from arbitrary socially informed norms. It is not unsurprising that our society still has standards of beauty that both women and men feel pressure to conform to. In an era in which we are exposed to more and more visual media, from online dating to Instagram, it feels as though standards of attractiveness are somewhat inescapable. But of all the beauty standards to have become more commonplace since Sex and the City was on air, the normalisation of removing every inch of pubic hair is baffling.There is an evolutionary logic that underpins some beauty standards for men and women. Certain attributes, for instance muscularity in men, can be seen as an indicator of heritable fitness and protection, so it makes some sense that this would be perceived as attractive to potential mates. However, the removal of pubic hair is somewhat less logical. Why is it that women are expected to alter their bodies to look pre-pubescent? Yes, some women say they find it prevents discomfort during sex, or that they feel it looks neater to have shaved their pubic hair. Many women are empowered by shaving their hair, but the idea of sexual attraction to a body as hairless as a child’s is incomprehensible to others, particularly when one considers how recent a phenomenon the removal of female body hair is. Removal of body hair is a choice, and one that I know not all women choose. That said, anecdotally, many young women report an expectation from sexual partners, or even beachgoers, that their nether regions be totally hairless, whereas Carrie couldn’t comprehend why anyone would voluntarily get a Brazilian wax in 2000.The show, for all its many flaws, is deliciously entertaining. It is consistently humorous, with some of the best styling in television, and some great acting performances. For a light-hearted programme, Sex and the City has moments of profound poignance, as the female protagonists navigate heartbreak and setbacks, supported by their intimate friendships with each other. The show’s portrayal of female friendship is beautiful, with the comforting reassurance that no matter how messy the breakup, the women always rally round to support each other. Ill-informed and problematic as it was, comparing Sex and the City to the societal norms and standards we hold today can go both ways, and it would be close-minded to assume that all of our society’s changes since 1998 have represented burgeoning equality, when the reality might not always reflect that.