The conundrum with second chances. Am I right?
Via: Sex And The City Best
Via: Sex And The City Best
Something I’ve been working on is messaging Kim Cattrall, adjuring her to reprise her role as Samantha Jones. I don’t know what kind of hoodoo, voodoo, shit is going on, but literally every time I turn on an episode of Sex And The City, it aligns exactly with what’s occurring in my life. I finally realized it’s another synchronistic universal message, confirming and guiding me through life. Although it can be dated in regards to the multi-cultural tapestry that is in fact New York City, let’s face it, some people straight up only have white friends.
As a native to said tapestry I can attest to the fact that we haven’t come as far as we pretend, even NYC can be problematic in the neighborhood divisions. I mean this is the place that turned affluent black Seneca Village into Central Park, the inception of Robert Moses Projects project, taking homes from colored families for highways. I happened to be one of two black families (before I said three, but after serious discussion, it was decided my adopted ex-friend with his white mom didn’t count), to grow up on the Upper East Side. FYI my ex-friend is a Jewish, black, homosexual, I’ve grown up with combinations of complex people that I now realize are complete anomalies to the majority of the world. In fact my entire life is an anomaly. I too lived in a bubble, until the world gave me varying experiences of highs, lows, and people from all walks of life, not just mine, for me to see the full scope of things. So yes, Sex And The City can be a bit problematic (it’s not intentional), with the name plates and what not, but it’s still one of the greatest pieces of art ever created. Well written, apt and essential in a woman’s search for self.
I can truthfully say Samantha Jones changed my life. I was a Charlotte at one point, but used the Carrie in me to observe the discrepancies between gender expectations. It made me a bit of Miranda cynical, but then I said fuck the dumb shit and let my inner Samantha shine. No longer wanting the emotional restraints women are conditioned to have, denying ourselves pleasure to be subhuman to the patriarchy, I lived a very Billie, Sasha, Sex Life lifestyle. You know why? Because Samantha fucking Jones gave me the balls to do it. She gave MILLIONS of women that prerogative. Samantha Jones loved herself, giving me the courage to do the same. She was also the only one in the black club, ready to throw hands.
Sex And The City works better together, because the characters are so varied it allows women to be who they want and not some cookie cutter, dubbed a freakshow for wanting an identity of her own, however she sees fit. FEMINISM. The show is GROUNDBREAKING, the characters, cultural icons. Do you know how many times my friends and I STILL reference SATC, as it soothed some hardknock we were going through, no matter the ethnicity?
I implore you, join in, send Kim Cattrall a message on why we need her. A biologically tribal species, we need the band back together, for the sake of humanity. I rest my case.
*The photo of Ringo Starr and Sir Paul McCartney is only there so everyone can acknowledge Ringo is carrying the class. I love you Sir Paul, but blonde highlights, with that mustache makes you look like an adult film star. Give Ringo his flowers for this photo.
Watching The Beatles last performance always kills me inside, but everyone was swagged out af. “I Got A Feeling” hits different during that final concert. I can’t take another heartbreak, Kim Cattrall PLEASE! How did SATC impact you? What would you write to Kim Cattrall? Via: Gigi Engle & Golden Earth Boy
Be Samantha Jones bold when it comes to taking control of your sexuality. For centuries and still, depending on your cultural background, there’s been a stigma surrounding sex. Purity, especially for women, being valued over pleasure. When I started the liberation leg of my sex esteem journey, a pastry chef, Theresa, called me a slut. After confiding in her of my weekend escapades. Pointing out Julian, a co-worker/friend does worse, she replied “So he’s a boy.”
“How ridiculous,” I opined, holding her accountable, to assess our actions by gender. If I’m a slut, he’s a slut and she’s sexist. Why do women have to be judged at all? I asked before walking away, leaving her mouth agape. She didn’t have an answer to something she never thought about. Theresa was merely regurgitating what society taught her, no questions asked. Are you guilty of mindless herd mentality when it comes to sex and other areas of life? Or do you examine and question why thing are? Via: Capsule 98
A savage. Photo:VelvetCoke