How insane is it that it has been 10 years since the 'Sex and the City' series finale? I remember sitting on the couch at my parents' house (I was a senior in high school), calling my friend Alysse at the commercials (how ancient is that, we weren't even texting and I'm pretty sure we were using landlines) and crying while Carrie and Big kissed passionately alongside the Seine River. I loved the Huffington Post article An Open Letter To Carrie Bradshaw on the 10th Anniversary of 'Sex and the City' -- this resonates deeply with someone who is still, at age 26, getting over the delusion instilled in me by Carrie Bradshaw and her massive Manhattan apartment. I told myself in high school that the purchase I would make with my first "big girl paycheck" would be a pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes. Ummm. The first paycheck I ever got could not buy one Manolo Blahnik shoe, let alone a pair. Also, Where did I think I would wear said shoes? Toss up between the grimy halls of the high school I worked in or as house shoes because I had 0 friends and 0 parties/dinners/events to attend for my first six months in New Orleans. Oh, and let's not exclude LSU frat houses or the aisles of Whole Foods.
I am still nowhere near being able to afford $1,000 high heels, but there are other elements of the show that I romanticized which have become a reality. I get to be in love, drink fancy cocktails with girlfriends, and write about life in my favorite city in the world. And for that, I think Carrie (and teenage Megan) would be proud.
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