
The first episode of “Sex and the City” opens with a meditation on modern dating from Carrie Bradshaw as she introduces the audience to an “age of un-innocence.” “No one has affairs to remember,” Bradshaw muses. “Instead, we have … affairs we try to forget as quickly as possible.” These words were televised before the rise of dating apps and the juxtaposed ubiquity of hookup culture and the tradwife takeover. Now, Bradshaw might wonder, if culture is all about hooking up, why is nothing looking up? How can one fan the flames of desire if all you have is Tinder? The current dating scene and cultural landscape is very different now than it was in 1998 when “Sex and the City” first aired, but many lessons from the show can still be carried into today.
“Sex and the City” (SATC) has a complicated legacy. It was undeniably impactful. Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda shaped the way a whole generation spoke, dressed and viewed relationships. It brought conversations that many women had been having behind closed doors onto a mainstream stage. However, the show was very limited in its perspective. SATC was based in New York, yet rarely included people of color as anything other than one-off plot points or set dressing. It focused on four upper-class white women, leading lives completely inaccessible to most Americans and despairing over problems many would dream to have.
There have now been a million think pieces criticizing SATC for its depictions of class, race, queerness, therapy, sex and feminism. While many of these critiques are fair, some ignore the intentional presentation of the women’s problematic views. They have differing beliefs about what it means to be empowered, how romantic relationships should function, and what it means to be a woman. Those conversations are worth highlighting, even if what the characters say is problematic or unkind. They’re working through social conditioning and complex issues in a realistic way, and there must be space for that.
The women’s conversations about casual sex as empowering versus demeaning, for themselves or for the approval of men, are just as relevant today as they were then. Dating apps and changing social climate have made hookup culture a norm. For some women, this has allowed them to feel less shame surrounding casual sex and to appreciate physical pleasure unburdened by the idea that sex must be inherently romantic. However, the presentation of casual sex as a form of reclamation or empowerment is one of poor faith. Many women feel pressure to engage in casual sex because it’s mainstream; it’s often presented as a feminist act, and no one wants to seem sex-negative. Unfortunately, this often leads to people feeling regretful, left unsatisfied and with their emotional needs unmet. The Madonna Whore complex reigns supreme. Despite the normalization of hookups, women who participate in casual sex are still demeaned for their promiscuity, while those who abstain are seen as prudes. This culture of disrespect doesn’t serve women. It serves men.
The women of SATC grappled with this dissonance. Samantha found casual sex to be enjoyable and empowering; Carrie did not. Neither act is innately feminist as the choices are personal and circumstantial. The show also presented an alternative to the false dichotomy of traditional monogamy and unattached hookups: casual dating! This mindset is focused on getting to know someone, not monogamously, but still forming a level of emotional connection before physical intimacy. Go on a date, test the waters, and proceed from there. Throughout the show, the women often went on dates, shared a little smooch, and then just didn’t let the guy upstairs. Meet, test, repeat. This wasn’t always the case — the show was called “Sex” and the City, not “Getting Coffee” and the City — but it exemplified a style of dating less common in the app era.
Additionally, it’s important to note that while SATC represented the straight dating world in a nuanced way, it didn’t dwell on the complex social dynamics of queer dating, and as such, offers little insight into the way hookup culture impacts the queer community. While the male-female power imbalance isn’t present in the same way, there are other dynamics that make queer dating its own can of worms — a can of worms the show was not equipped to comment on. (While Samantha may have sustained a relationship with a woman, any contact with a queer polycule would have killed Carrie.)
Although the show would have likely fallen flat on queer representation, a modern version may have provided interesting insights on how apps have impacted the dating world. Dating apps themselves aren’t inherently bad, but they’ve served to further the “love as a market” mentality that was already prevalent in the SATC era. Relationships have been forever connected to economic forces. Marriage was a trade, a wife in exchange for capital. The ongoing objectification of women has perpetuated this mindset, encouraging men to use their partners and sexual conquests as indicators of their masculinity and status. There was no time when love reigned supreme, separate from market forces. However, dating apps have intensified this dynamic, regardless of gender. To create a profile requires one to condense their identity into a few key traits, ideally the most marketable ones. This process, which sociologists Eva Illouz calls “emotional capitalism,” also necessitates cost-benefit analyses based on the traits of one’s potential mate.
People are overwhelmed by their seemingly infinite choices when all it takes to see someone new is to swipe. Why devote resources to a “maybe” when you could be out there searching for your “yes?” Capitalism breeds innovation, after all. Why settle for the product that already exists when there could be something newer or better? Why wouldn’t a multitude of options lead to a perfect outcome? There must always be something else out there, otherwise it’s all in vain. It’s a deeply dehumanizing mindset. This is further exemplified by the premium versions of dating apps, where one can pay more to see who likes them before they send a like in return, can boost their likes to be seen first, and send unlimited likes. People are paying for possibility and control. Those investments don’t benefit them; they just help the apps profit. This isn’t to say dating apps can’t be fun or lead to meaningful connections, but it’s important to remember they’re not a neutral service. They’re built on the commodification of love and personhood.
Another important lesson from the SATC was the women’s resistance to traditional relationship norms. Although the average age one gets married is rising in America, trad wife culture and the shift towards conservatism is attempting to stigmatize single, working women once again. Trad content shows a fantasy of domestic bliss, days spent cooking and cleaning, devoting oneself to housework all while wearing beautifully long flowing gowns, leading a life in service not of oneself, but of one’s man.
Trad wives and the primarily male audience who promote them encourage women to leave their jobs and give up financial independence in exchange for a differently framed life of service. Really, what these women want is a break from the capitalist hellscape of constant work and a way to remove themselves from the “hustle culture as feminism” messaging of the 2010s, but instead they choose to demean women who resist traditional domestic norms. The women of “Sex and the City” faced constant ridicule for being unpartnered, unmarried, working and childless. Yet, even Charlotte, the most traditional of the four, continued to lead her life as she wanted rather than succumbing to the patriarchal pressure.
The most important lesson of the show is the simplest: friendship is an integral component of a happy and well-rounded life. Despite the show’s focus on romantic relationships, some of the most impactful storylines centered on the women’s friendships. They disagreed and hurt each other, yes, but at the end of the day, they always showed up for each other. Their partners came and went. They were each other’s constants. At the end of the day, that’s a universal message. It’s a necessary lesson for everyone, regardless of their sex or their city.