The Last Supper…

Season 2 is complete & I would like some credit for knowing that Aidan was a very bad idea from the get go.

We’ll get back to my i told you so later. Let’s kick off with the good, eh? Anthony is in love. Excellent. I’m not convinced by the whole internalised homophobia plot, but I am pleased he has a happy conclusion.

Miranda & Steve finally have the closure I was begging for. A recognition of what they shared & a promise of a friendly future. I loved Steve’s ‘I was right for a really long time’. It is lovely to see a relationship breakdown being portrayed as something other than failure. It doesn’t always last forever, but that doesn’t erase all the good that people share. Another big tick.

Che remains annoying. The tequila in Carrie’s kitchen, their insistence that those jokes were funny & to be honest their presence at the dinner wound me up. Nya’s (I had to remind myself of her name, which is not a good sign) handsome bar dude being the chef was a bit too romcom convenient. Similarly Seema’s I love you’ freak out was cliche, but I can let some things go. Carrie acquiring a kitten pleases me immensely. Bonus points for naming her Shoe. Samantha’s cameo was a let down, however at least in keeping with her character.

Which brings us back to where we started; Aidan. Now that she has sold her home & purchased a giant place he’s about to make redundant, he can bear to enter that apartment. The minute Carrie upends her entire life, he discovers that he can’t possibly take his eyes or thoughts off his kids for a second. Obviously a parent should always put their children’s needs first, but I’m not sure constant supervision is what his teen requires. It’s now that we learn that the ex wife is not a constant in the lives of the kids she flew to NYC to warn Carrie off. Aidan literally clicks his fingers & expects Carrie to freeze. There is only one possible answer to his 5yr wait proposition; FUCK OFF.

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How about no?

Every now & again I realise that I kind of hate all the latest ‘must haves’. Summer 21 is definitely one of those moments. Thus, I invite you to join me as I trash all the things I really don’t want.

Big Collars

Everywhere I look folk are adding massive collars to everything they own. I can’t stand it. It’s twee in the worst possible way. They’re the ugly offspring of 80’s maternity & flower girl fashion. I feel especially nauseous when I see someone sporting a large doily style collar on a pastel knit. It has to stop. Please.

Pale blue cardigan with white lace colour
Nope

Pampas Grass

Is that even the correct name? It’s that awful fluffy stuff that keeps turning up in floral arrangements. Usually accompanied by weird dusky pink dried flowers. It’s another 80’s revival that we should have left to rot. The fluff gets everywhere, they always flop & there’s that urban legend about swinging. I’ll stick to fresh blooms, thanks.

pampas  grass & dried flower arrangement
Nope

Hankie Tops

I’m usually all for a 90’s throwback. It was a bloody good decade with some excellent fashion. Hankie tops, however, were awful then & even worse now. I still have nightmares about the lemon yellow gingham hankie top I struggled to keep my boobs in on a second date in 1998. I can’t forgive the pitiable piece of fabric masquerading as a garment.

Candlelit Concert

In theory, I actually love this idea. The first candlelit concert I saw advertised was Vivaldi’s Four Seasons in a beautiful theatre. I could see the appeal. It must have been a success because now there is a candle lit EVERYTHING. Abba, Disney, Daft Punk, ballet (is that safe?), songs of Barry Manilo! I’m out.

Bare Midriff Belt

I couldn’t tolerate Carrie Bradshaw belting her belly button. So, I’m definitely not going to find it charming this time around. Can’t we ever learn from our mistakes?

Carrie Bradshaw wearing Gucci belt on bare midriff . ASOS model wearing jeans & belt in bare midriff
Nope & Nope

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