Charlotte: It’s because women really just want to be rescued.
Carrie: (voiceover) There it was. The sentence independent single women in their thirties are never supposed to think, let alone say out loud.
Charlotte: I’m sorry but it’s true. I’ve been dating since I was fifteen. I’m exhausted. Where is he?
Miranda: Who? The white knight?
Samantha: That only happens in fairy tales.
Nothing screams lockdown like the resurgence of 90’s/ Y2K primetime television, and what could be more Y2K than the infamous hit HBO series, Sex and the City? The above dialogue caused quite the stir when the episode first aired in June of 2000 as part of the show’s third series. In today’s world, if someone, or some character, made such a statement, Twitter would explode with characteristically cut–throat criticisms in 280 characters or less. If you were given a euro every time you heard the word ‘problematic,’ you could probably even pay your crazy Dublin rent for the month, with money to spare for a flat white or two. I suppose the expectation is that the 21st century woman should shudder in her platform Doc Martens and reworked Levi’s at the very thought of such a concept. But, I began to wonder – does there remain a sliver of truth behind the 21 year old line? In this fast–paced, transient time of ours, do we all, regardless of gender or age, yearn to be saved?
Carrie swiftly peppers Samantha’s ever-staunch tough love with the mandatory early noughties feminist quip about ‘being one’s own white knight’. Did the show’s writer, Darren Star, foresee a global pandemic that would force the world’s singles into prolonged periods of solitude? Doubtful. But, in applying Charlotte’s sentiment to modern life, has Covid-19 warped our desire for companionship? It’s safe to say that the general population’s consumption of media increased exponentially throughout the pandemic. People were undoubtedly exposed to more of what I like to call ‘movie love’; a portrayal of love that, while pleasant viewing, is not attainable in real life. However, because social interaction was limited for prolonged periods of time, these unrealistic expectations were maintained for far longer than usual. This applies to those who are new to the dating scene, as well as those with a relationship history. Don’t get me wrong, having standards is not necessarily a negative thing. In the same breadth, it is easy for people to forget the reality of the fallibility of humanity in that our capabilities are limited. Fortunately or unfortunately, life is not like the movies. Perhaps the age of the ‘simp’ is an indirect side effect of the pandemic…
This in turn begs the question; Are we entering an era of romanticisation once more? Is conservative monogamy back in fashion? TikTok, the hottest social media app of the moment, would lead you to believe so. Millenials and Gen Zs’ alike (perhaps spurred on by Swedish House Mafia and Avicii’s EDM classics of the late 2010s) once exuded an undying thirst for recklessness, adventure and eternal youth. In 2015, everybody under the age of 25 sought to live life as if they’d die tomorrow. Nowadays it seems that the only thing the ‘youth’ are yearning for is a ‘Sunday kind of love’.
Suffice to say we have entered into a period of retraction. In a world where influencer culture and the pursuit of a lifestyle of excess is at an all time high, our emotional bank accounts show insufficient funds. In the past, people sought the quick fix. In the pursuit of wealth, many were choosing short-term gain over long-term prosperity. But a shift seems to have occured. A trend has appeared that insinuates that the human race as a collective is craving something more. Or is it that we crave less? In one of the most recent episodes of the final series of ‘Keeping up with the Kardashians’, the world is invited to view, at a distance, the preliminary stages of Kim Kardashian’s heavily publicised divorce from musician Kanye West. In the perfect blend of candid and staged, Kim explains to the family’s matriarch, Kris Jenner, that what she seeks is not the extravagance she has become accustomed to, but the ‘little things.’ It doesn’t take a neuroscientist to work out that what Kim is referring to is not smaller diamonds or downsizing to a condo in Bel–air. In a fleeting moment of humanity, Kim expresses a perhaps universal desire for something intangible; security, comfort, a sense of calm in the never–ending storm of modern day life. And, if you strip back Carrie and Samantha’s dialogue to its bare bones, I think you will find similar sentiment.
The majority of people don’t actually wish for a saviour. In fact, God complexes repulse most of the general population. However, humans, for better or for worse, are programmed to exist as social beings. We need company to function. And so, perhaps it’s not necessarily ‘saving’ that we yearn for, but rather a sense of stability. Such writing is always intentional. While it initially leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth, its purpose is to provoke a thought within you. Often-disguised in arguably woeful language or delivery (or both) is a nugget of wisdom. In a world where the same bland feminist rhetoric is shoved down your throat, sucked dry of any substantial meaning, these primetime moments remind us of our fallible human condition and multi–faceted natures. We can still aspire to be the next Fortune 500 female CEO whilst looking forward to heading home to a familiar face every evening without being branded old–fashioned. Life is not one-size-fits-all and so perhaps we shouldn’t be so quick to judge Charlotte and her seemingly distasteful ideologies. After all, a version of Charlotte lives inside us all.
