Skip the City Sex...Give me those Hats!
I, like virtually every other female on the planet, saw the movie "Sex in the City" this weekend. If you enjoyed the TV show, the movie was a much-needed fix, a rollicking raucous time. As a woman who will never, by any stretch of the imagination, be labeled as "fashion conscious," at least I can live vicariously through the trendy do's and don'ts sported by Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte.
"Sex" is about putting yourself out there...in wild style most people would could never afford or be caught dead wearing in public, and in relationships, good or bad. The fashion parade in this movie was, for me, like a hidden treat in the popcorn box. It was almost a distraction, trying to follow the dialogue, as I took in high style at every turn: the Manolo Blahniks, the Dior...everything glowed like a candle at Christmas, no doubt thanks to the super cinematographer and thousands of key grips with keylights.
Don't get me wrong, I do love a good six-pack of abs on a man, and there are some hunky specimens in this flick. I like Chris Noth, but at one point, I swear it looked like he'd been made up for a funeral! And there were glimpses of body parts that I wasn't really prepared for, since "Sex" was a TV thing, and there are TV things, and movie things...shower scene...you get the idea.
No, what really sent me over the enjoyment edge was the array of hats displayed by these gals, particularly Samantha. Hat wearing, for women, is passe these days for the most part, unless you live in Paris or belong to a Red Hat club, and so simply to see them onscreen was big fun.
My favorite was Samantha's outrageous straw hat that could have sheltered a third-world country under its wings. And though at first I laughed out loud to find her face under all that shady straw, Kim Cattrall carried it off perfectly...she knew it was ridiculous, but there's a price to be paid for haute couture, and she pays it with interest.
I don't have the self-confidence to wear that 50-gallon straw concoction without injuring myself or bystanders, and there's no way on earth you could ever persuade me that a turquoise bird headdress is an acceptable bridal accessory. But hey, that's why we go to the movies! "Sex in the City" is the wannabe movie for Everywoman. We may never have the good fortune to live in a chic walk-up in Manhattan, or jet to the Coast to meet our svelte 20-something lover, but a girl can dream, and the dream should include outrageous hats.
I always say, "if you're gonna be a bear, be a grizzly." Or a turquoise bird!
