An Open Letter of Apology to Samantha Jones

Dear Miss Jones,

Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? I remember covertly watching episodes of Sex and the City as a young teenager while I was (supposedly) channel hopping. Of course, I managed to catch the most outrageous scenes (the one with the woman giving her husband a tantric massage in front of her class and Miranda getting splattered with…stuff). I can’t even remember when I officially sat down to watch a full episode consciously, or which episode it was. Suffice it to say I loved it. 

I knew that I enjoyed the quick-witted banter the girls engaged in over brightly coloured cocktails. The straight-talking sexual content and the fabulously outrageous outfits. What I hated was…well you.

The hatred was visceral. Far too visceral, in fact, for a fictional character. So much so that every time you were on screen, I either groaned or rolled my eyes so hard I almost pulled something. I called you horrible words like; slut. Words that I’m sure singed my tongue as they bounced off. I groused how you were ‘too old’ for the role, and it was frankly embarrassing to watch you. I laughed at your embarrassing moments with a kind of spiteful glee I wouldn’t like to have thought myself capable under other circumstances. 

I would like to take this opportunity to offer you my sincerest and humblest apologies. Initially, I could blame my immature teenage self for not knowing any better. 

Now, with the SATC reboot, And Just Like That, going into its third season and at the age of thirty-something now myself,  I have been forced to reevaluate. Particularly since you are barely involved in the reboot, much to most fans’ ire. I couldn’t help but wonder, Why did I hate you so much? 

The answer is, rather unsurprisingly, jealousy. 

One of your main character traits is your self-assured sexuality. I have never had that, even now. I am depressingly British about the whole thing. Particularly body confidence. You do have an amazing body, way better than mine, and you are nearly twice my age. Why shouldn’t you celebrate such a banging bod? Maybe it’s that pesky Britishness again, but I was brought up not to show off (or if you do, make sure it’s humble or self-deprecating). In the first series, when the rest of the girls are indulging in the age-old feminine tradition of complaining about various body parts (S1, Ep 2), you do not partake. In fact, you say, “I happen to love the way I look”. And there it is, the sentence that conventionally attractive women are never supposed to say. Hadn’t you got the memo? It’s unattractive to consider yourself…attractive. 

Having an active sex life and revelling in it is something women have been criticised for throughout the centuries. And there I was doing the same thing. The irony of it went right over my teenage, backcombed head. I considered myself a feminist. I even had earrings that proclaimed me as such! I was a Sylvia Plath fan! I had even read The Female Eunuch (well, most of it). How could I not see that I was engaging in internalised misogyny?

As the comedian Iliza Schlesinger said, “don’t call each other whores. Don’t call each other sluts. Because when you do that, society looks at you and they say, ‘Oh, it’s okay to talk about women that way.’” And that’s what I did. I watched other characters like Charlie from Two and a Half Men or Joey from Friends seducing multiple women. I thought they were cool and charming. Isn’t it awesome that all the girls want them? How ultimately warped was my logic? 

I was essentially trying on the identity of a feminist the same way I did with goth and electro fashions. I shouted about wanting to be paid the same as a man for the same job, but felt vindicated in throwing fellow women under the bus for not conforming to rigid gender roles and sensibilities. I was wrong, I see that now.

Looking at you with this new information, I would now argue that you are the most feminist of the group. My younger self would have guffawed, but it’s true. A wealthy owner of a successful PR agency who bought her own apartment in NYC. How unlike Carrie, who spent the entirety of the show chasing after a man who made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t his first choice. Or Charlotte, who was so desperate to be someone’s wife, she married a man she barely knew (I mean it was Kyle McLaughlin, but still).

You never expected a man to fulfil you (except you know…). When you left Richard, for the second time, you said the iconic line “I love you, but I love me more.” (S5, Ep 3) I scoffed at the time, how like you to think of only yourself. But I see now, being older and somewhat wiser. Women have always been cast in the role of caregivers, to put others’ needs above their own. Even at the expense of their heart or mental well-being. You refused to play martyr to this cause. I know now it’s one of the hardest lessons you learn as an adult; sometimes love just isn’t enough (despite what Disney tells you), and it’s better for your own sake just to walk away. You were trying to teach me and other young girls to value ourselves and seek healthy relationships. 

 Criticisms aimed at the reboot are rife with ageism. The cast looks too old now to be playing the characters. Particularly, Carrie and Charlotte’s apparently had too much filler. But in the original series, you (eventually) championed age. I am now pretty much the age the girls were when the original pilot aired, and I appreciate this. You described yourself in one episode as “forty-fucking-five!” proudly. When you had a chemical peel for Carrie’s book launch, it had some unflattering side effects (S5, Ep 5). But you were going to refuse to hide your red and peeling face, nor feel embarrassed for getting surgical enhancements which society “nearly demands” of women.

There are many aspects of SATC that don’t sit right with modern audiences. Frequently discussed is how self-involved Carrie is, even for a protagonist. Piggybacking on this criticism, I would say you are the nicest person and the best friend of all the girls. You were the only one who didn’t judge Carrie for her affair with Big and even comforted her (S3, Ep 11). You babysat Miranda’s baby despite not being comfortable around children and even gave Miranda your coveted hair stylist appointment (S5, Ep 6) just so post-partum Miranda could feel good about herself again (something none of the other girls even attempted to do). You were a bridesmaid in Charlotte’s ill-advised wedding despite Charlotte telling you she only made you a bridesmaid because she didn’t want you to “feel left out” ( S3, Ep 12).

And that’s another thing! Despite the show ultimately being about friendship, the other girls weren’t very nice to you. When you said about loving the way you look, Miranda shot “Well, you should you paid enough for it!” which is rather close to the bone even for her. There were multiple times in the series where Charlotte called you a slut either implicitly or explicitly. Carrie treated you more like a fun sideshow act for her own amusement rather than an actual friend. You were the one who used your connections to get the girls into the opening night of every hot club. You were the one who offered to be Carrie’s PR despite her admitting she couldn’t afford you. You charged her only one cocktail (S5, Ep 4). You were the one who helped Aidan choose an engagement ring more to Carrie’s taste, despite seeing the massive pitfalls in the relationship as we all did (S4, Ep 12). You were the constant support and cheerleader to your friends. The only one to encourage Carrie to go to Paris with Petrovsky when everyone else tried to dissuade her for their own selfish reasons. Promising her that “your fabulousness will translate” (S6, Ep 18). You were the friend that we all deserve and should all try to be. Pity the others didn’t seem to appreciate it, eh?

Like many fans of the original series, I have given up watching the reboot. It’s not the same without you, and I refuse to believe you would have alienated yourself from your friends over money. I prefer to imagine you living the life of a wealthy retiree on some tropical island with some chiselled eye candy. 

You were the fun one, Miss Jones. The one whose lines we all remember. There was a time when all my friends and I did was quote: “Dirty martini? Dirty bastard,d” and I’ve still never had the chance to throw a drink in someone’s face.

Wherever you are, Sam Jones, I raise my cosmopolitan (G&T) to you.

Love,

Nicole