“She’s shiny hair, style section, Vera Wang …
and I’m the sex column they run next to the ad for penile implants” – Carrie
I’ve lost count of the number of times Carrie has hijacked the ladies’ brunch with a trivial concern about her relationship with Big, but this time it really is a big one: he’s married.
Yes, we knew he was engaged, but when Charlotte stumbles upon the announcement in the paper it’s no wonder Carrie has a major wobble. She can’t help but compare herself to the new Natasha, who’s taller, younger, beautiful … that’s about it really. But she’s Mrs Big.
“What I wouldn’t give for a working fireplace,” she bemoans as she screws up the New York Times and tosses it aside. Sarah Jessica Parker plays the scene perfectly. Naturally, Carrie loses any sympathy by the end of the episode, when she’s incredibly rude to everyone at a Women in the Arts luncheon (that doesn’t seem to involve any actual luncheon) and trying to drag Samantha home without so much as a martini.
Meanwhile, Miranda hires a ludicrously meddling cleaning lady whose campaign of domestic terror starts with buying her a rolling pin and culminates in the replacement of her vibrator with a statue of the Virgin Mary.
Charlotte’s sub-plot centres on her lack of body confidence and reluctance to get naked in the spa. We’re supposed to cheer for her when some random tells her “I’d kill for your breasts,” rather than finding it super-weird and inappropriate.
The episode closes with Carrie discovering that Natasha doesn’t know the difference between there and their – a minor victory, but it’ll
Carrie’s column: Are there women in New York who are just there to make us feel bad about ourselves?
Fashion: Carrie does admittedly look fabulous in figure-hugging red at the WITA luncheon, but I’m not sure the dress was worth a month’s rent. I continue to find most of the handbags very cheap-looking.
Puns: Carrie said something in voiceover about members that might qualify as a pun. There’s some good banter about women who quit their jobs as soon as they marry. And an amusing wee one-liner from the luncheon registration desk: “Please wear your name tags – last year we had an unfortunate incident with Joyce Carol Oates.”