Carrie Bradshaw Had Low Self-Esteem
Now that I have your attention…
I think it’s time that we talk about Carrie Bradshaw. Now that we’re all far removed from the bright light of designer clothes and sickening “looks” that she was, somehow, able to afford on a starving writer’s salary — -pre-social media — -with a cigarette addiction and a snazzy apartment: can we all stop pretending that she is #lifegoals?
Listen, Carrie settled for Big. Better yet, he settled for her. Carrie could have done 10,000 times better than a man who repeatedly led her on, married another woman after disappearing on her, proposed to her in the most nonchalant way AND left her stylish ass at the altar. Girl, WHAT?!
The romanticizing of this couple really sends me into a spiral of trying to figure out why we, millennials, think dysfunction is aspirational. Carrie let a man drag her through the mud for 10 years and then decided all was forgiven because he left a pair of expensive shoes in a penthouse apartment? *EYE ROLLLLLLLLL*. I recently saw this tweeted: “What would Carrie Bradshaw do?” and it was RTed a couple dozen times with responses ranging from “I always ask myself this” to “OK, girl, yes!!”.
Well this is what she’d do: run up credit card debt on an expensive outfit or pair of shoes for a date with a man she was interested in that week, leave said date after finding some reason why he’s not Big — -and honestly, girl, that would be reason enough to stay — -she’d then go meet her best friends (one with commitment issues, one who only finds her worth in having a man and the only triple OG in the bunch, Samantha) for a wack alcoholic beverage (Manhattans suck) and then spend her night writing a column that is basically one big subtweet to all the men she allows to waste her time while killing her lungs with cigarettes.
Let’s be real: Carrie Bradshaw is that friend that we’re all worried about. The friend who is in an endless cycle of waiting on some man to realize she’s the love of his life while ignoring all the men who would really treat her with respect — -or at the very least not leave her to share her Mexican honeymoon suite with her friends all because he couldn’t get her on the phone on their wedding day. She’s the friend who’s first two credit cards come back “declined” at brunch but she’s dressed from head to toe in the latest designer fashions. She’s the friend pretending to have it all on Instagram but spends the night crying on Facetime to you about how she just wants someone to choose her first…oh God, Carrie Bradshaw is a mess, child, and it’s time we all admit it.