21 years ago, the show Sex and The City aired on HBO and displayed glitz and glamour with a charming xylophone as Sarah Jessica Parker strutted down the streets of New York. Young girls everywhere fantasized about moving to the big bad city and going against all the odds to be successful, beautiful, and overall, fashionably rebellious. Let’s be real, we all dreamed of being a Carrie or a Samantha, taking on the town and dating the most eligible bachelors.
Fast forward to 2019, Brady and Lilly are 21 sucking their Juuls and taking selfies while eating avocado toast in Williamsburg. It’s a completely new generation and the “’Sex in The City’ New York” is no longer.
I myself fantasized moving to New York as a young girl. I dreamed of having a one bedroom apartment, never using my kitchen, going to fabulous parties, and having dates with gorgeous men. Carrie Bradshaw, how different your world was…
After living in New York, I’ve realized a couple fallacies. First off, New York is expensive and I don’t care if you have the most popular sex column in town, you absolutely cannot afford designer clothes, shoes AND a beautiful one bedroom apartment in the Upper East Side. Also cooking happens a lot, even if it’s ramen noodles, it happens way more often than trendy dinners downtown.
Most of all the so-called fabulous parties are filled with Instagram posers doing duck face in their Kylie lip kit. The only thing that’s cool at these New York parties is how many likes you can get on the picture with a skyline view.
Now the dream is not dead. I am not a New York hater by any means, but it is a totally different city than when Miranda called Charlotte from her car phone (ok that never happened, but you see my point.) Dates, for instance, are set up from this magical finger tool called Tinder. You set up a meeting with a stranger at a bar, you look around for him in his bike helmet as displayed by picture #3, and result to messaging him on the app “R U here? I’m at bar in a yellow shirt.”You proceed to talk to him and realize that he smells like 8-day old salami and if you met him in real life first, you would have never said yes to a date.
Yes, now we have Uber, airdropping, and Eataly, so life isn’t so bad. We also have the #metoo movement so we would have blurted out to all of Vogue that Ron Rifkin took his pants off and was wearing fashionable suspenders.
2019 New York has its pros, but for all the girls out there dreaming of a move to New York, remember that running through the city in heels in a snowstorm on New Year’s Eve is actually extremely dangerous.
I couldn’t help but wonder, is the L train running?