Carrie Bradshaw is a big fat liar.
Sarah Jessica Parker (who, as you probably know, played Ms Bradshaw in Sex and the City) once again has us wondering just how she does it, in her latest film about how she does stuff. But the thing I used to wonder the most about when she was on SATC was: how does she afford all those shoes?
Carrie Bradshaw is a columnist. Yes, okay, a regular columnist in a city newspaper, but come on. A few hundred words a week does not a JK Rowling make. So here is this single thirty-something, writing for a living. That’s not such a bad life, it’s a creative one, fitting in with her PR and art gallery friends.
But let’s break this down:
- Carrie lives alone, in a studio that is huge by both London and New York standards.
- She lives in Manhattan, one of the busiest and most central locations in New York.
- Every week she’s out at a restaurant opening, the latest hip bar, or a fashion shoot. Yes, some of those will be covered by a press pass, but come on.
- Then there’s the Manolos. The multiple Manolos. (And the fact that the people who worked at Prada knew her personally.)
Can we have a reality check for a minute? How on earth does a columnist earn enough to rent a large studio in central New York, have a walk-in closet for her shoes and designer clothes, jump in yellow taxis left right and centre (cos girls who wear Jimmy Choos do not take the subway) and still manage to pay the bills?
This is an unfair portrayal of the writer’s lifestyle, and as someone who’s trying to make it as a writer, I take offence. Especially if she was legitimately able to afford this by simply writing down her wonderings about her friends’ sex lives.
That doesn’t even take imagination! She’s just going to brunch, hearing other people’s stories (which, considering the amount of times she interrupts them to say things like “HEY WHAT ABOUT ME?!”, it’s shocking she ever gets enough material from) and then writing them down, without even changing their names. I’m surprised her friends don’t ask for a share of the profits.
The only thing I can think of is that she doesn’t eat. She saves a lot of money on food, which then goes into her shoe savings fund. Except surely the fact that she can’t cook and eats out all the time means she’s spending more money. SO WHERE IS IT COMING FROM?!
There was the one episode where that guy she slept with thought she was a hooker. Maybe that was the answer all along. Or maybe every now and then she hawked a few old pairs of shoes, or an ugly outfit, to a Carrie-fan…
One thing is clear. Carrie Bradshaw fails at money. She usually fails at relationships. She definitely fails at being a good friend a lot of the time. But what she doesn’t fail at is creating a world, a world where a single female writer can rent a beautiful apartment in the best part of the city, go to gallery openings and catwalk shows, and buy thousand-dollar shoes every week. Except there’s one small problem.
This world is a BIG FAT LIE. Thanks Carrie Bradshaw. I write this from the childhood bedroom to which I have returned in order to save money, living on noodles, working in a coffee shop part-time and staring at the glossy copies of Vogue that I cannot waste my money on. In place of catwalks and restaurant openings, I have slam poetry and drinks in Wetherspoons.
But you know what? At least it’s honest.