The Carrie Bradshaw In Every New Yorker

A few weeks ago a friend from Brazil hit me up for a casual promenade at MoSex, also known as the Museum of Sex located on Fifth Avenue in downtown Manhattan.
Currently exchanging at Columbia, he garnered interest for MoSex thanks to the
museum’s advertising bombardment in every subway line ever. You simply cannot miss it unless you do not move around the city at all.

We went in expecting a horny screening of people intertwined in the absence of love, threesome or fourplay you name it, but instead were greeted with a comprehensive presentation on the impact of human sexuality upon cultural evolution, in accordance with the museum’s official statement. More than perversion, it offered education on sexual history through interactive booths that engaged us in its surprisingly very scientific findings.

The nature of MoSex made me realize that sex is more than its portrayed sagacity. In a city where strangers live in high density, the secret desire for intimacy grows stronger than can be repressed. Carrie Bradshaw drives us mad with her ability to create friction in the abrasive pace of Manhattan avenues, on which ground Sex and the City offers entry to an admired glamour in the midst of a stressful reality. Jump starting HBO, the six years series achieved tremendous success in celebrating the adulterous beast inhabiting our deepest urges, as if living through Carrie was the magical elixir to letting it out.

Carrie’s halo radiates from her confidence to give zero shit about anything that binds her to her age. Trashing decency by default, the “sex” in the city has less to do with sex and more to do with liberation. It serves a manifesto that destroys stereotypes and legitimizes whatever you want whenever you feel whoever you are. Casual sex is perfectly noble in Carrie’s dictionary so long as it brings her joy. Fangirling over Mr. Right at 32 is equally reputable if both Carrie and Big rejoice in her childlike curiosity. Carrie’s powerful contagion lies in the innocence that has remarkably lingered through her prolonged sexual career.

Seeking an escape after a long day of cubicle prison, we plunge into the Bradshaw night life as physical ecstasy neutralizes the static pressure at work. Perhaps not to the same extent, but it does take jumping out of the box to jump into it again the coming morning. That being said, Carrie’s influence seldom stays within the context of sex and permeates to every dimension of life. Before Sex and the City, alcohol came in standard packages and people were considered crazy for ordering a margarita, the grandfather to what we would now call speciality cocktails. Mixing shots with flavored spirits to form a rainbow of “-tini”s, the practice mirrors Carrie’s distinguishable personality—juicy innocence dirtied by intoxicative profanity.

Much like how Sally in Mrs. Dalloway decapitated flowers from their roots to let afloat blossoms in a bowl, Sex and the City is all about severing established connections to enable new ones. Who says that breakfast and lunch have to be separate? Brunch gives you the same account of nutrition but saves you from waking up early only to eat again in a few hours, so why not give it a try?

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Sabrina He

Sabrina studies International Relations and French at NYU. Moving from Montreal to Beijing to Vancouver to Manhattan, she is a trilingual Chinese French Canadian culturally confused 90% of the time. A keen observer, she strives to shed light on the "diamonds in the dust" hidden inside her every day journaling. Having interned at various law firms, she now seeks to illuminate her creative outlet through Monologue Blogger.