Today we're covering the 2008 movie Sex in the City. I've talked about my relationship with

Sex in the City before. It was absolutely foundational for me. The show started in 1998,

and I started watching it immediately. I was 15 years old. I saw the first episode of it at my

friend Amanda's house because she had HBO.

I couldn't tell at first if I liked it. That first season, like many first seasons of many shows,

it hadn't found its tone yet. I also couldn't tell from that first episode if it was going to be a show that

was interested in love stories, and this won't surprise you. I only wanted to watch love stories.

The plot of the first episode revolves around the question of whether or not women can have sex,

quote unquote, like men.

Then Carrie meets the man who will turn out to be the love of her life, Mr. Big.

And he asks her if she's a hooker and then humiliates her and leaves her on the corner of a street.

I was seduced by the show and repulsed by it.

I genuinely just couldn't tell if it was for me.

And that is what I was trying to figure out when I watched those first episodes of Sex

in the City with Amanda.

Was this show safe?

I still haven't figured out if Sex in the city is safe for me, but I never stopped watching it.

It became a touchstone for me.

Even when I hated it, I loved the clothes and the styling more than I hated the story.

So by the time the movie came out in 2008, I still didn't know

if this franchise was safe for me, but I did know that it was being made with me in mind.

And in 2008, that in and of itself felt huge. So I went with my friend Rachel to the matinee on opening day. Even at three in the

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