I spent way too much time in high school watching and rewatching Sex and the City. Unlike everything else on TV these women seemed so real, so fun, and so open to dropping major dough on brunch. Being young and impressionable, I assumed the fabulous foursome was living the life I’d live one day. Little did I know, freelance writers don’t own 50 pairs of Jimmy Choos and most women don’t have sexy men lining up outside their posh New York City pads.

Yeah, naive mind. totally. blown.

But now that the show is back on TV and I’m watching reruns daily, I realize that while Carrie, Charlotte, Samantha and Miranda’s sex lives weren’t totally realistic, they can teach us a few important things about sex. So even though I  cringe at awkward love scenes on television and even though I made fun of the disaster that was the sequel, I’ve realized I can actually take a few tips from our four favorite girls on “Sex and the City.”

It’s not always good: Despite age and experience, everyone doesn’t get it right. Even the pros have off days. Charlotte’s perfect husband was impotent, Samantha loses her orgasm while Miranda had to fake them, and Carrie had issues with a guy who arrived too fast, too soon. Be prepared for disappointment if your imagined fireworks are more like sparks.

It’s not always romantic: You effing bitch, you effing whore! Definitely not your standard sweet nothings. Another sex myth I believed back in the day was that soft (or loud!) sweet words are whispered during intimate moments. But the SATC girls debunked that myth. Samantha found a man who was into baby talk, Miranda dated someone who talked too dirty, and Charlotte had a creep who called her some choice names while getting it on. After witnessing the failed foreplay, the soft sounds of Babyface on the iHome may be a better choice in the bedroom.

It’s not all pleasure: A little pain equals a lot of pleasure, right? Wrong. Sure, the middle school sex-education classes told us that sex does involve some pain, especially during your first time. Apparently it becomes less noticeable with more, umm…experience. After Samantha, the one with the most notches on her bedpost, found Mr. Too Big, the grand champ of getting it on felt the pain for days and days. And let’s not forget the thousands of needles that Charlotte poked herself with during fertility treatments. Hopefully the pain is worth it!

Wardrobe doesn’t matter: So much for that black, lace bustier you bought at Victoria’s Secret—when you were 13. Sexy lingerie may be fun to buy and wear, but it doesn’t make for great sex. Remember the furry slippers that Carrie purchased to woo Berger in bed? And the see-through negligee that Charlotte bought to get Trey’s sails up?  Lingerie alone clearly doesn’t get the job done. On some episodes, the girls wore plain t-shirts and boxers to bed—and those were their hottest nights ever.

Safe sex is the best sex: With all of the wild and crazy sexcapades the foursome had, they always made sure to use protection at all costs (most of the time). Even the Super-freak Samantha faced her fears and got tested for HIV. The fabulous four proved that no matter how hot your partner (Smith) or how many partners you have (Samantha), safe sex is the best sex.

What sexy lessons did SATC teach you?

Some of us are the Charlottes who are happy knowing at the end of the day there is a guy that will be thinking about us before we fall asleep. Some of us are the Samanthas who are happy knowing we have a guy we can shag before we fall asleep. Ahh, and then there are those in between-ers like myself. We want someone to love and shag us before we tuck in for the night.

Whichever category you fall into, it’s no wonder we’re all looking for that special person to “complete” us.

Having a boyfriend brings about a sense of pride and accomplishment. It gives us all feelings of worth, self esteem and validation. Oh, and a serious case of the butterflies.

As sad as that may be, it’s the truth. Sure, the powerful and independent woman can find all of that on her own, but the fact is we’ve been taught our whole lives to want a boyfriend. Case in point: romantic movies. Those friggin’ things don’t do jack sh!t for a single girl besides motivate those starry-eyed expectations of how the majority of real guys act. Homegirl, I’m not talkin’ only about movies along the lines of “The Notebook” either. Those Disney Princess movies of carpet rides and glass slippers laced our childhood hopes of boyfriends with metaphorical crack before we got our training wheels off.

So yes, I want a boyfriend! You want a boyfriend! Your dog wants a boyfriend!

And there is nothing wrong with that. It is normal to want to have someone to talk to at the end of the day and to remind you how amazing you are. Someone who is going to give you bear hugs, forehead kisses, and be an olympic gold-medalist cuddler. It’s a part of the human moral fiber.

So for those cynical singles who won’t admit at the end of the day that they truly do want “that special person,” stick that in your juice box and suck it! Claiming you don’t want one may make you feel better about the fact that you don’t have one, but I truly feel that everyone deep down wants a boyfriend.

Thoughts?

But our 12-year-old sister might not understand that materialistic banter and wildly frequent sex is the making of entertainment. Our 12-year-old sister might think those are really things to aspire to. And we wouldn’t want that.

So why, may I ask, has HarperCollins asked Candace Bushnell to pen a new seires of Young Adult novels? Are The Carrie Diaries, reportedly about Carrie’s high school years, just an attempt to get a new, younger audience into SATC? Are tweens really ready for couture and an obsession with relationships that boarders on psychotic? I mean, maybe Bushnell will break the mold and write about something other than New York City, designer labels, and women chasing after men…but forgive us if we have our doubts on that one.

What do you think? If The Carrie Diaires come out, would you want the little girls you love to read it?

Obviously the fashion/hair/bags of the Sex and The City movie were more than noteworthy (I am still drooling over those royal blue Manolo’s). But more blogworthy?

The fashion (or lack thereof) of SATC moviegoers all weekend long.

From the metallic pumps to the teased out hair (yes apparently, some girls still do that) Girls, and a few boys, armed with their favorite girls and favorite bag were decked out in their Carrie Bradshaw best. Girls waited in line for four hours, in four inch stilletto’s (my feet hurt just thinking about it) for the long awaited glimpse of their favorite HBO gal pals.

Now don’t get me wrong, I too wish my closet was outfitted with Carrie’s Louboutins or Charlotte’s Chanel collection– but on a hot, humid Saturday afternoon- answer me this: Why are you wearing a black minidress, red lipstick and clip-in hair extensions to sit in a cold dark theater?

It seems like a waste of a perfectly good outfit to me (not to mention quite an uncomfortable ensemble for a popcorn stuffing feast). But to everyone else at the shows before and after me, throwing on their best SATC look alike outfit was the thing to do. In fact, the chick in front of me was reapplying her eyeliner as the lights were going down in the theater… I do not make this stuff up.

But even though I looked like a shlumpadinka compared to the girls all around me, I couldn’t deny my overwhelming feeling of excitement for the movie. I can’t remember the last time I saw a completely sold out show or the last time I clapped when a movie began and ended! Cheesy? Of course. But who says cheesy can’t be fun?

Here is a brilliant video showing just how crazed SATC fans were to get the first peak inside the lives of Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte five years later. Talk about the best place to pick up girls.

Maybe I should try that for the next Indiana Jones showing. Heeeeeeey fellas!

[Photo courtesy of LATimesblog]

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