So I don't think that Cashmere Mafia was half as bad as everyone made it out to be. While it's true that when I was a teenager and early-20s-er, I was handfed a steady diet of Sex and the City didactism, and maybe the reason I liked CM was because it looks, sounds, and feels a whole lot like SatC, I'm not convinced that all the railing on about how the messages CM sends about women in New York not being able to "have it all" makes it unlikable.
Maybe I'm just cynical. I mean, while a handful of my New York friends have gotten married, thrived in their high-powered careers, and maybe a couple of them have had kids, the vast majority of working, career-minded young women I know are under 32 and either divorced, divorcing, or single and dating.
I've always thought that it takes a certain type of person to voluntarily live in New York as an adult. (To be honest, since I grew up here, I've always wanted to not live here as an adult, and one day, when the exchange rate gets better, I'll probably move back to England.) That person is probably driven, success-oriented, a self-starter, fiercely independent, ever-so-slightly (or a lot) egotistical, and yet content (thrilled, even) to sacrifice basic elements of quality of life and live in a small box stacked high in the polluted sky with all the other small boxes filled with type-a personalities.
What ever led any of us to believe that in a city filled with every-man-woman-for-him-herselves, we'd ever find happiness with each other?
(Also, have you ever noticed that New Yorkers are pretty lonely people? I hate that about New York sometimes. There are some amazing people out there. I've met them. But sometimes this city feels like a buffet trough of pigs in a blanket -- we're all so wrapped up in our loneliness we can't get past ourselves. This all applies to me too.)
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