The Sex and the City Movie left me slightly depressed. No, not because the movie made me all mushy and introspective, wondering when I am going to find my Steve, Harry, Big or Smith. That sentiment wasn’t even a blip on my radar.

Rather, the SATC movie left me depressed for admittedly superficial reasons. Forget Freuds Penis Envy — the SATC Movie left me with major, MAJOR bag, clothes, and shoe envy. I felt like having a tantrum circa 1983 (But mom I waaaaant it!!!!!).

I am not exaggerating when I say that I was salivating at the sight of Miranda’s Norma Kamali Swim-suit and Carrie’s 5,000 pairs of Manolo’s and Louboutins. Suddenly my flip flops and white terry zip-up made me feel like a hot-mess.

Maybe I should have dressed up for the movie (I say this now with extreme sarcasm, because I still think movies go hand in hand with sweatpants and popcorn; not patent leather pumps and thigh highs). But when the movie was over, I had an itch to go home, freshen up and put on my best Carrie Bradshaw imitation. Read More »

The shoes! The hair! The clothes! (and did I mention the shoes?)

Obviously the fashion/hair/bags of the Sex and The City movie were more than noteworthy (I am still drooling over those royal blue Manolo’s). But more blogworthy?

The fashion (or lack thereof) of SATC moviegoers all weekend long.

From the metallic pumps to the teased out hair (yes apparently, some girls still do that) Girls, and a few boys, armed with their favorite girls and favorite bag were decked out in their Carrie Bradshaw best. Girls waited in line for four hours, in four inch stilletto’s (my feet hurt just thinking about it) for the long awaited glimpse of their favorite HBO gal pals.

Now don’t get me wrong, I too wish my closet was outfitted with Carrie’s Louboutins or Charlotte’s Chanel collection– but on a hot, humid Saturday afternoon- answer me this: Why are you wearing a black minidress, red lipstick and clip-in hair extensions to sit in a cold dark theater? Read More »

The four unique protagonists in HBO’s “Sex and the City” didn’t just open their lives to us. They represented an entire generation of women whom we turned to for comfort, advice, and entertainment.

Some part of Carrie, Samantha, Miranda, and Charlotte exists in each of us and, when the show ended, we said goodbye to a small part of our selves.

If you, like I, played the last episode thinking to yourself, “What am I going to do without Carrie?”, then you won’t have to wait much longer.

She and her pals will be back in a feature-length film, and you can fall in love with the “bigger than ‘Big’” show all over again when it is released in theaters in late May!

The newly released trailer for the film hints at important questions that will be answered: Read More »

This past Saturday night was just like any other: I got dolled up in cute jeans and sky high stilettos and made my way out to the bar with friends. We circled the bar drinks in hand, danced, sang, and collectively winced in pain as our super-sexy shoes grew more and more uncomfortable.

When the lights came on at the end of the night we waddled out as our feet wailed and kicked our shoes off as soon as our butts hit the frozen leather seats of my Volkswagen Jetta.

“Oh my God,” my friend cooed, stretching out her visibly red and blistered toes. “That feels amazing.” When I dropped her off at home, she walked from the car to her front door barefoot, despite the snow on the ground.

I did the same and spent the following morning – as I often spend Sunday mornings - nursing my ailing feet with a hot bath and lots of Band-Aids.

My mother called me mid-way through my foot therapy and commiserated with my pain. And then gave me the best advice I have ever received:

“Get some Cole Haan pumps.” Read More »

I Love New York.

No, I am not talking about the VH1 show, or the person (really, who is named New York?), but rather, I love New York City. The diversity, the nightlife, the arts, the shopping- NYC is the ideal city… if you’re crapping out money, that is.

A cozy apartment, dinners at the trendiest restaurants and of course, as many Manolo’s and Jimmy Choo’s that will fit into my apartment. If that was life as a journalist for Carrie Bradshaw, then surely, my life couldn’t be much different. My biggest challenge would obviously be learning how to run down 5th avenue in heels or pull off that black bra/white shirt combo that she made look so effortlessly cool.

Just when I was about to boycott Sarah Jessica Parker for giving me false hopes, Urban Hostess looks like it can make my dream a reality. Read More »