Monday, March 25, 2013

Happy Birthday Sarah Jessica Parker!

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.

Golly, what a delight it is to speak in overflowing praise sarcastically. I surely hope that the introduction you just read came off as mocking, for it certainly was. While I'll agree that Carrie Bradshaw is some sort of fashion icon as well as a role model for multitudes of women, I do not concur with that statement being factual. Not only is Carrie dim-witted in the department of love and relationships, but she has absolutely no sense--fashion or otherwise. Dressing in skimpy shorts and stockings, "matched" with a top that is in a totally different color, may qualify as stylish to the color-blind and mentally unadjusted, but to New York I am sure she'd be silently chastised. Behold, that is just an example of her considerable lack of such a fashion sense. As for her knowledge on men and love, the scope is just as limited. Her key relationship with the notorious Mr. Big, for instance, sets the tone for her entire attitude towards the dating stratosphere. She claims that he has commitment issues when she, herself, cannot commit to the supposedly ideal Aidan in later seasons; she even finds herself in bed with Mr. Big while in a relationship with Aidan. Sure, Mr. Big is married at the time also, but she is so self-righteous in her demeanor, justifying her illicit actions the entirety of this lucid affair. Cheating is cheating, as she so declares earlier at a time or two. Oh, but she cheated with the former love of her life; moreover, he enticed her into the affair, making her a victim in this charade. Then, when all is out in the open, Aidan has to forgive her? And she won't even satisfy his broken heart with the assurance that she will never see Mr. Big again? Absurdity in its finest. I highlight this fallacy in Carrie's character in particular because I happen to be watching that season now, as I work effortlessly on my elliptical. I am a physically active individual. Good girl. Anyway, Carrie Bradshaw has many, many flaws, though somehow she comes off as (dare I say it) likable. Perhaps it is her self-delusion, how she convinces herself of certain things that are far from reality; perhaps her narration has inspired me to write in such a manner that pleases myself as well as you all, I am sure; or perhaps, deep within, I want to be Carrie Bradshaw. Doesn't every idealistic single girl want that? In some shape or form, maybe I strive for her life. Though I certainly hope I am not as foolish and self-absorbed as she is, or as careless with her expenses. Carrie Bradshaw is fabulous, in her convoluted, vapid sort of way, and I can only hope that I will be as lucky and successful as she is. That's all she is, really. Lucky.

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.

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