Writing for the Daily Record, George Galloway outs himself as a “Sex and the City” fan.
It’s the only box set I’ve ever bought which I have actually watched.
The clothes, the clever repartee, the down and dirty sexiness of the girls and their endless stream of men now seems like a distant era – like Harold Wilson’s Sixties Britain.
But, at last, after contractual conflict which seemed set to scupper their reunion, they’re back, the whole palpitating, heaving, fornicating four of them.
Journalists sometimes ask which of them would do it for me.
To which I can only respond: Names of those journalists, please.
The honest answer is all four of them, but it’s too dangerous to admit that.
There’s the sweet one – great marriage material.
The lawyerly red-head – sexy and motherly. Or the voracious man-eating vamp, ankles behind her ears.
But if I had to choose just one, it would have to be the eponymous Carrie Bradshaw.
She’s not the prettiest, the sexiest or the cleverest. But she would be, quite simply, the most fun.
Perhaps. But what exactly makes Carrie Bradshaw “eponymous”? And does this tell us anything about Galloway that we didn’t already know?
(I’ll admit to liking Sarah Jessica Parker as a nerdy high school freshman in the funny but underappreciated series “Square Pegs” in the 1980s. Unfortunately the show was canceled after one year and she got older.)
Now I accidentally saw about a minute of SATC on TV many years ago, and I’ve seen an ad for the movie, so I can’t claim to know as much about it as George. But I’m temperamentally inclined to agree with John Kass of the Chicago Tribune, who writes that SATC is “about four terrifying, rich, aging, elitist women who whine about sex and men and purchase $700 pairs of shoes to feel better about themselves.”
Kass predicts that millions of men will be dragged kicking and screaming by their wives or girlfriends to see the movie. It seems others, like George, will go voluntarily.
And finally: Is it just me, or is that a really annoying hat?
(Hat tip: Tim.)
