I'd like to commemorate a very special day in honor of one glamorous lady by the name of Sarah Jessica Parker. Better known as Carrie Bradshaw by those who claim to admire her as a so-called actress and by those who claim her to be a fashion icon, she has spread her feminine wisdom across generations of women who have adopted Sex and the City as a recreational how-to on life. As Carrie, she has taught women the facts of relationships and dating: from the mythical Mr. Right to the diabolical Mr. Big, this savvy New Yorker has a remarkable grasp on the schematics of the female psyche. Her insight is transmitted onto her little column in the New York Star--oddly enough titled Sex and the City--where various women learn and are blessed if they should ever encounter Miss Bradshaw in her city. She scours New York in search for delectable tidbits and tales to embellish her column with, including the informative stories of her wonderful girlfriends: Miranda Hobbes, Charlotte York, and Samantha Jones. Taboo subjects such as funky spunk, revirginization, the faux orgasm, and so much more flourish in abundance this series called Sex and the City, and if you need further clarification, just read the title. Or perhaps you'll do yourself the pleasure of experiencing this iconic television show, especially if you are a woman. A woman who has never seen this show has not yet developed--they must first witness what not to do in the relationship world and learn from the best.
Sarah Jessica Parker is defined by this character. She is Carrie Bradshaw. Seriously. In every cinematic role she has taken, it has been the identical performance as seen here in Sex and the City. Oddly enough, for those films she receives Razzie nominations, and in the television series she received six Golden Globe wins. Peculiar bit of fact, that is. I view Sarah Jessica Parker (or SJP, affectionately) through the eyes of one who has gotten close to Carrie Bradshaw. Her appearance alone triggers me to giggle at her stylish vanity and seemingly polite daintiness, which alludes to how nice she is in interviews and the like. She is the epitome of pretentious: valuing herself over others yet reaching out to them as if they were charity cases, and dressing glamorously which is actually quite tasteless. Nevertheless, I'm rather fond of the silly girl. Here's to forty-eight years of being fabulous.