The sleepy monotony of a Claremont Wednesday afternoon was shaken last week when the one and only Sarah Jessica Parker paid us a surprise visit while touring the Scripps campus with her daughter. She was, for the lucky few that spotted her (or even got to shake her hand, can you imagine), getting a drink from our very own Motley Coffeehouse while wearing bug-eyed sunglasses. As a long-time “Sex and the City” watcher and columnist, I, like anyone else with half a brain, was appropriately gagged.
Parker played Carrie Bradshaw on the groundbreaking HBO comedy-drama series “Sex and the City,” a worldwide phenomenon and my favorite comfort show. Even if you’re like me and didn’t grow up with a television, you probably know about “Sex and the City.” Even if you don’t think you do, you’ve probably heard a reference to it at some point.
The show defined the cultural zeitgeist of the 90s and the early 2000s, and Carrie was the fashion icon of that period. After she made an offhand comment about scrunchies, New Yorkers decided they couldn’t be caught dead with a piece of fabric-wrapped elastic around their wrist for two whole decades.
While Carrie’s fashion and cultural iconography are unanimously agreed upon, something that remains up for debate is the show’s status as a feminist piece of media. Can we call this show, centered around the lives of four female friends in Manhattan, a piece of feminist media? Further, does this label even matter?
For starters, the show was a rare instance of successful Western media from the 90s to 2000s that captured four women who had professional lives and engaged in candid — if not graphic — conversations about sex and relationships. Because of this, it became a torchbearer of third-wave feminism: It emphasized sexual liberation, individual agency and reclamation of femininity. It served as the feminine equivalent of “The Sopranos,” presenting characters who were as unlikeable and complicated as they were endearing.
However, to the question of ‘Is the show feminist today?’ the answer is less clear. First, the issue of the character’s likability: No one likes Carrie. She is arguably more of an anti-hero than she is a typical protagonist. She lies, she cheats, she steals. She has an affair with her recurring flame, Big, jeopardizing the best relationship she has found on the show to engage in secret hotel-room trysts with a married man. But it’s not just Carrie who’s unlikable. For all of the show’s moral victories, there are equally as many moments of unapologetic selfishness, and rarely do any of the group’s conversations pass the Bechdel test. The plots of the show revolve around dating and the endless search for the one.
However, these characters do not have to be likable to be feminist icons. While the viewer may be frustrated by some of the characters’ decisions, the very point is that the women have the right to make these terrible decisions. “Sex and the City” was released in the mid 90s, when the representation of women in media was predominantly confined to limited roles and stereotypical characters. Female characters with agency and well-rounded personalities were overshadowed by their male counterparts, perpetuating the notion that women were less capable or significant.
Today, the show might fail to meet the criteria of fourth-wave feminist media, which emphasizes intersectionality, anti-capitalism and de-centering the desire for male validation. The women are white, wealthy and — besides Samantha’s brief lesbian relationship and Charlotte’s brief one-episode “phase” of bisexuality — heterosexual. Their apartments are all glamorous, their friends and lovers are predominantly white, and Carrie is famously shocked when she realizes that she can’t afford to move houses because she’s spent $40,000 on shoes.
I believe that “Sex and the City” is a feminist show, even though I wouldn’t say that it succeeds in reflecting today’s feminist values. However, I don’t think that the main goal of the show was to champion feminist ideals. Our desire for every show about women to be filled with feminist role models proves that we don’t have enough shows about women.
In the same way that a show about men isn’t expected to exclusively discuss men’s social advancement in society, the same burden shouldn’t be applied to a show boasting a predominantly female cast and audience. Though the women are concerned with dating, this doesn’t mean that they have to serve as role models for all other women. They are allowed to simply be. Trying to box them into any other category is needless and limiting.
“Sex and the City” has become such a cultural touchstone because there was a gap in the market for female connectivity. The message of the show is that while romantic partners come and go, sisterhood is the one true constant.
“I’m a Carrie,” is what I would have said to Ms. Sarah Jessica Parker if I had been lucky enough to meet her that fateful Wednesday. Thank you for creating a character who is unapologetically imperfect. I didn’t get the chance to say any of that, but I did wear a pair of outrageously large sunglasses today.
Arianna Kaplan SC ’27 is very concerned with college social dynamics, our weird nightlife scene, creative nonfiction and philosophy. She will tell you, without fail, that she studied abroad in Paris. Please, please, please ask her about it.