In June 1998, audiences all over the world were first exposed to the dulcet tones of peppy New York journalist Carrie Bradshaw, as she wound her way through the twists and turns of single life in the hit HBO TV series Sex and the City. Audiences couldn’t get enough of her. She had something that so many other female television characters at the time lacked – she had style, and not only the kind of style that allowed her to become one of the best dressed characters on TV. Instead, Carrie had the kind of style that made her bed-hopping antics, witty one liners and endearing (if not slightly irritating) inner monologue must watch TV for six seasons. And Carrie wasn’t Sex and the City’s only asset, together with sassy lawyer Miranda Hobbes, the hilariously inappropriate Samantha Jones and Wasp princess Charlotte York, the shows all female main cast showed audiences everywhere that, far from being sugar, spice and all things nice, these women were tough, street smart and taking the airwaves by storm.
Of course Sex and the City wasn’t just for the consumption of Park Avenue princesses or hopelessly cool thirty something’s. Instead, Sex and the City appealed to a much larger audience, with everyone from teens to middle aged women and even men tuning in, even if only to be shocked by the salacious antics of four single women in Manhattan. Even I myself can confess that since being a twelve year old child, I have been hooked on the show, if only for the fact that it presented the kind of high calibre smut that you just didn’t see on The Den or Nickelodeon back then.
Now, six years after the Sex and the City girls last graced our screens, audiences are as hooked as ever on strong, female characters, take for example the hit series Desperate Housewives. Following on a similar vein as Sex and the City, ABC television’s smash hit show follows the lives of four women living seemingly idyllic lives in suburban America. Just like Sex and the City before it, the housewives have turned into a cultural phenomenon, with each of the female lead characters representing a different concrete persona with their own quirks and gags.
And, just like Sex and the City, it’s impossible to watch Desperate Housewives without pondering to yourself: “which housewife am I?” The question may seem simple, but just like the burning question of ‘whether you were a Carrie or a Charlotte’ or whether or not you like marmite, it requires serious consideration. After careful deliberation, I have decided that I am undeniably a ‘Bree’. Of course I’m not a middle-aged, red haired housewife; I wasn’t married to a doctor who had a fetish for S & M and I’m not having an affair with my best friend’s ex-husband (not yet anyway). But it’s the little things that make you feel an affinity to a character like Bree, like whenever I run to find a scissors to cut a rogue thread from my shirt or get a sudden urge to bake apple pie, moments like those I can stand back, laugh and say to mself “ I am sooo Bree”!
What is it about these characters that grab our attention? Be they sassy singles living the high life in Manhattan or sexually frustrated housewives harbouring dark secrets in Middle America, these women are a winning combination of gutsy personalities, cool dry wit and, most importantly: a killer fashion sense: Its undeniable that a slick set of threads is a key component of our love with characters like Carrie Bradshaw and Bree Hodge (or whatever name she is calling herself this season). Bree’s icy, cool demeanour is backed up by a style borrowed from the likes of Jackie Kennedy and Audrey Hepburn, with perfectly coifed beehives, sweater sets and pearls being the order of the day, while Carrie pulls off even the most obscene of looks with a certain grace and aplomb (trilby hats, playboy monogrammed scarves and jimmy choos? Yikes…).
However, the representation of women in these shows is not without its flaws. Take for example Sex and the City. Where the show falls down is the idea of the characters personalities’ aplied on the basis of their hair colour: The hyper-sexualized Samantha a blonde, the prudish Charlotte a brunette, the persistently PMS-ing Miranda a red head and Carrie, the quirky one, a sort of hybrid of the first two with curly locks to boot. Likewise, Sex and the City, despite often undermining the character of Charlotte as being fatally domesticated and overly dependent on men, showcases a certain yearn towards social norms all the same: Samantha is frowned upon in society. She is the quintessential floozy about town. But Carrie, the main character who plays by no-one’s rules but her own (to a point) is still hopelessly hooked on men, particularly the one that is her downfall, Mr. Big. This contradicts the overall tone of the show, as Carrie is forever drawn back to Mr.Big (and his unconvincing dye job) like iron to magnet. This idea of the over-importance of men in a woman’s life has also been a life-force in Desperate Housewives. Susan is deplorable with men and yet will go to any lengths to get Mike. Edie (the ‘Samantha’ of the show) will similarly jump every hurdle like a show horse, in a bid to catch a man’s eye.
Despite this, we keep coming back for more, because aside from the inaccurate depictions of women, single life and American suburbia, shows like Desperate Housewives and Sex and the City offer us everything that we could want from a TV show: glamour, saucy antics and a host of middle-aged actors and actresses playing a bunch of sexually charged thirty-something’s – TV bliss!
But oh, I diverge. And now it’s conclusion time. So, in your best Carrie Bradshaw mental immitation repeat after me: Are the women presented on TV really accurate depictions of what it is to be a woman in the twenty-first century? Or are they simply homogenised and drones which have been marketed to TV audiences all over the world as a symbolism of everything glamorous and feisty? This writer doesn’t know, and to be frankly honest- doesn’t really care. But as long as I can switch on Paramount comedy on a cold winter evening and hear the droll musings of Carrie Bradshaw, I’m happy enough to sit back and ponder the eternal question – where did I leave that bag of Doritos? *cue Sex and the City music*
