Sex and the (mother) city

Whew… feel bloody knackered. My company has just recently become involved inFashion Sponsorship. As an indirect result, I was at the Cosmopolitanin-Jean-ious Fashion Show last night. Vapid expression, pouty lips, big hair andreally scary androgynous female form…Not me, silly. I`m referring to the models.I was a bit more circumspect about my pout (It`s really hard being a gorgeous,glamorous, single social butterfly…).

I digress…looking around that room at the post-show cocktail party (a.k.aSchmoozing and hook-up session), I was stunned to realise that most of theroom was on the ‘pull` or the prowl …or, alright…just looking to get laid. Andif you gently sniffed the air, and your sense made it`s way past the Chaneloverkill, you would have picked up a bit of Eu De Desperate on the air. With asmile I stood there taking in their overt body language, theI-want-you-right-now looks and the forced attempt at cool. Bt nobody`s actuallytalking to each other. It`s all posture and strutting and it`s all a bitshallow. Jaded?

As I write this blog, I’m sitting at my desk, looking at the fake foliage rightoutside my faux view of the world outside. My feet are killing me thanks to anew pair of Manolo Blahniks. I’ve just returned from a quick lunch with thegirls where we dished out loudly about our sexual escapades the night before,and where I received tons of compliments on my fabulous Swarovski necklace, MarcJacobs wrap dress and Furla handbag. Or maybe not… But as I type away at my desk, no Manolo`s on my feet it`s 9West, I can’t help but wonder, “When it comes to real life, is it at all possible that my friendsand I could be mirroring the inner-city woes of the ladies in Sex and the City?”

Despite the outrageous outfits and lifestyles, the series worked brilliantly forsix seasons because the women it featured were utterly believable. Each womanrepresented a female archetype, which we could all identify with. There wasprissy Charlotte, ever-sexual Samantha, fiercely independent Miranda, andlovelorn and fallible Carrie. Most women are combinations (in varying degrees)of the four, and therefore found something instantly relatable in each of thecharacters. Whether you were a prude or wildly promiscuous, you could feel theirpain (in fact, there is a quiz on the HBO site which allows you to figure outwhich SITC character you most resemble.

I`m a Carrie…Fashion, Shoes and seriously dodgy relationship decisions. Yep, sounds about right). Like the characters in the show, I`ve thought about the fact that women had been relegated to either being mothers or being defined by their careers (lawyer,doctor, etc.). If they happened to be single gals, they were often shown desperately seeking a husband.

Sure, Charlotte dreamed of becoming a Mrs. but the series quickly proved that her marriage to the ultra-WASPy Trey was just anillusion, while her relationship with her friends was the everlasting reality. Then the question begs: How the hell did we get into this mess? How did we get to the point where we`refeeling like the good ‘ole gals from Sex in the City? What happened to thetraditional gender roles and attitudes towards relationships and dating? And,when did everybody in Cape Town get so damn desperate?

We`re so busy trying to meet Mr. Right (Now) that we have forgotten what it`slike to just meet people. And, yes, it`s hard to meet the right kind of personin the social set-ups we have. Bars aren`t always ideal; work is never a goodidea and, if you`re like me, your urban family doesn`t get a healthy influx ofnew people introduced to it. And when we DO finally meet someone we remotelyhave a connection with, weforesee problems before it actually happens and it`s simply because the age of innocence has passed and we anticipate the crap before it actually strikes thefan. In order not to succumb to the exhausting process of making the connectionbetween you and your prospective partner work, we approach it with kid gloves, aclinical attitude totally devoid of emotion and (god forbid) hope.

So, we`ll trundle along, making shallow connections, with shallow people and (sometimes)have shallow meaningless intimacy with said people. Because it satisfies onebasic need, but it`s still emotionally safe.The answer is so simple, isn`t it. I find it so easy to love myself. I have noissues with who I am and what I am. Then why the hell would I want to spend mytime pursuing situations, which will ultimately not be satisfying? And, no, I`mnot knocking the possibility of just going with the flow and having fun. I`vebeen accused lately of being Madam Social Butterfly and, as a result, I havebeen meeting people all over the place. The point is that none of the people Imeet are suitable as a) friends or b) prospective …um..romantic interests.

So,why play up to that. I think not. I meet you. You meet me. I like you. You like me. We don`t bore each other =first date. Back to Sex in the City… They talk about sex without emotion. And as Big gives Carrie a lift in his limo,he’s un-phased by her jaded attitude when it comes to relationships. “I get it,” Big states. “You’ve never been in love…” And that`s it really, isn`t it. I have loved and I still love. But…I now wonderif I`ve ever felt the sweetness and giddiness of being in-love. Would it make adifference to my jaded heart? Maybe not. But I might not be so intolerant of everybody out there in the MotherCity trying to meet The One on a Saturday night in De Waterkant.

And I might give myself a chance to just maybe…fall in love… feel some butterflies …daydream

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