I raised myself on Sex and the City episodes (oh don’t judge, you’re a serious denier if you can’t name at least 3 major subplots), but sometimes I think that practice might have set some unreal expectations. At the time I didn’t know that I wanted to move to New York City, and I didn’t *really* relate to any of the characters, but hey, it was fun to watch. I struggled to comprehend Carrie’s style, Samantha’s sexual energy, Miranda’s edge, or Charlotte’s Type-A quirks. I adored the characters and the show (still do!), but this was my first impression of New York City and what it meant to be a successful woman there.
Fast forward six years and of course, I landed in New York. I am very aware that my experience completely my own, but I find that Sex and the City is a subconscious benchmark that girls my age often hold ourselves to. I was recently recounting my weekend to a friend who responded with, “that was sooo Sex and the City!”. I had this weird revelation that I wasn’t crazy about that comparison. Six years ago, although I didn’t relate to any of the characters, I idolized them, and that comparison would have been a compliment on high. Back then I thought nothing could be better than a “Carrie moment”, and that would have REALLY meant I made it.
Don’t get me wrong, having fictional icons is the norm, but I’m realizing it can be just a little problematic. I think that a lot of great new benchmarks are emerging for my generation, like Broad City and Girls (both great, great shows) – but there’s not enough media available for young women that portray what it’s REALLY like to be a young professional woman trying to figure it the fuck out. Say what you will about Sex and the City, but there’s no way Carrie Bradshaw could afford herself (I am very aware this is not a groundbreaking statement, don’t worry). Anyway, long story short, I wanted to start the Real Girls Club to get real and if nothing else, make at least one other girl out there make her feel like she’s not alone in New York.